#Mayor Buckman x Reader Drabble

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mayor Buckman x DeadWife!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Buckman gets a visit from his sweet 💛 dead 💛 wife 💛.

Warnings: Death, talk of legal age difference. Unedited because it is 4 in the morningggg.

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball and @slxsherwriter.

She was young when they married, he was almost 30 and she was just 19. When she died she was still too young, only in her own 30's. She'll always be too young.

She's too young now in fact, sitting on the edge of his bed as he wakes up from a heavy deep sleep, looking just like the she did the last time he saw her happy- before she got sick; golden on the inside, and ridiculously kind with that sweet smile on her face that always melted him.

Vaguely Buckman recognises that you shouldn't be here at all, that you're deader even then him, but he can't find it in himself to care. Not with you holding his hand in your lap again and your soft voice in his ears again. He just doesn't care.

"Hey, there, darlin'," You whisper in a voice so much quieter, so much softer then it ever had been before; gentle eyes clear of the tired fog though that had filled them all your last weeks. That took you away. "... How are you?"

"I- " How does he respond? God, he doesn't want to be a sad sack for their reunion, but he sure can't lie... not to the ghost of his wife! That could be bad, conscience-wise. "Well, uh... I'm afraid I've been thinkin', lately, sweetheart."

"Thats dangerous." You tease, your smirk as gentle as your pretty eyes. When he opens his mouth to rebound with his own remark, you giggle quietly and shake your head. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Well, um," Suddenly he moves carefully to sit up against the headboard. He feels like he should be semi-straight up to tell you this; to have this conversation with his wife. Though, you'd think if you were watching over him and the boy's then you would already know- wouldn't you?? "I, uh... n- no way to pussy foot around this one really. I, uh- well doya remember Boone?"

Recognition flickers across your face, like 'oh' and you nod. "Yeah, I like her."

"I do too, sweetheart. Um, and the thing is,... we- we're uh... we've been... she- I- " Never in his life has Buckman struggled so badly with his words. Good God. How hard is it to say he had fallen for the crazy old bitch!?-

"... I know, George." You assure him, a little amused tone in your ghostly soft voice. "We know all sorts of things, over here. We get all the news- sometimes before you do."

"You- what??" Buckman looks exasperated and baffled at you. You kill him, even decades after you're supposed to be gone. Decades after he's supposed to be gone.

Giving a dainty shrug, the movement too perfectly smooth for it to have been made be a human, you grin. "I was waiting to see if you'd be able to say it to me."

"Well, heck- I tried!"

"Yes you did. Very noble, George." He can hear the eye roll in your tone, but let's it go.

For a few moments the two of you are silent together. He feels anxiety boiling in him, but you look calm as bath water as you gaze around the room; your old bedroom. You look serene. "... So,... What do you think? Huh?"

Your gaze flickers back to him, and you give another shrug. "... you're happy?"

"... yeah, darlin'," He tells you, all gentle.

A smile spreads across your face, and you nod. "Then I'm happy."

"... really?? No sorry- I mean- you're not jealous at all?"

Here was his wife, his person. Who he was so lucky to meet, who he was so lucky to get permission to ask to keep. Who he was so lucky to have liked him back; his best friend. The mother of his children. And she was telling him that she's just... fine... with him moving on with someone else?

-Really??

Something about that jostles him. For weeks he's been agonising over this, wondering how you would react, if you would hate him for 'forgetting' you (though fuck knows, he couldn't do that even if he tried, which he would never). But you're... fine??

He's relieved, but he's also shocked. He doesn't think he could be that big if he was in her shoes.

"George... " Your voice is really as gentle as a feather right now, and he feels comforted every time you speak. Perks to being a ghost and not whatever mockery of one that he is, he guesses. "... I loved you, and I will love you in some way forever. And I know you loved me, I know. And I'm glad you were my husband. But if we're honest with each other if we lived in this modern time, we never would have even looked at each other that way. If we had the chances that people do now, if we knew the things they do, I would've found someone... my age, at the very least." You tell him, only half teasing. "And you might’ve been with Boone from the start, because come on let's be serious. We never made half the sense that you two do."

It's hard to hear, and there's a sad look on your pretty face, and he wants to gather you up and hold you tight and assure you that in a hundred lifetimes he would do the same thing by you- but he's afraid if he moves then you'll evaporate like smoke. And he can't be sure of the sentiment, as deeply as he might want to be.

With careful fingers though, you reach over and graze your fingertips over a cheek bone just like you used to; When you were both alive. You look overwhelmingly sad, then. "... you have other things to atone for, anyway... " The softness in your voice doesn't go away but a darkness descends over the room; a coldness. And- is that thunder tolling over head all of a sudden?? What on gods green earth!?-

"Huh??"

"You're gonna have to think harder if you want peace. And not, about me."

"W- wait but- Hold on, what do I gotta atone for?? Y/N- " You're beginning to fade and turn translucent, and Buckman feels a sharp fear at losing you again. "Wait, wait!- "

"Before I go- how're the boys?" Surely you already know!- But-

"They're dumbasses- I mean they're good- wait." He reaches out away from your hands and your lap where he hasn't dared to lift his hand from this entire talk, and tries to grab you. But his hand goes right through. "Wait wait, sweetheart hold on a second- How's Scarlet???"

You give a final smile. "She's wantin' her daddy to come join us. So remember what I said." Then you disappear like dust in wind, leaving only an indiscernible weight in Buckman's chest and the memory of your face and your voice clearer in his head then ever for the first time in a long time.

You forgave him... but what the hell was that last bit??

[tinalbion]

Michael Myers Masterlist

HCs s/o With Epilepsy

HCs Skinny s/o

HCs Secret Child

HCs Skin Care Routine

Blind s/o Drabble

HCs Teleporting s/o

Cuddling With A Flustered s/o Drabble

HCs s/o Who’s Scared of Loud Noises

HCs s/o With Prehensile Tail

HCs Dead s/o And Raising Their Child

HCs NSFW Plus Sized s/o Who Teases

HCs Mermaid s/o

HCs s/o With No Motivation

HCs Australian s/o

Slashers With a Symbiote Drabble

HCs NSFW Male s/o

Story - Meeting A Ghost Girl

HCs Washing Their Clothes

Sick s/o Drabble

HCs Taller s/o

Male s/o Scenario

Easily Scared s/o Scenario

HCs Nympho s/o

S/o With Insomnia Scenario

Playing ‘Just Dance’ Scenario

S/o Who’s ‘In Heat’ Scenario

S/o Who’s Half Snake Scenario

One-Shot ‘Somebody’s Watching Me’

Unholy Trinity - S/O In Haunted Houses

Michael & Others x Reader who makes Flower Crowns

Michael & Others x Reader Who Trips

Michael (& Others) x Reader Who’s A Masseuse

Michael (& Others) x Reader Who Asks Them To Dance

Michael (& Mayor Buckman) x S/O Who Has an Identical Twin 

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mayor Buckman x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: You have a little crush on the mayor, so you let him teach you how to ride horseback 🐴🐴🐴.

Warnings: Ehhh, unedited.

Tagging: @marinerainbow and @masqueradeball . Yes an Englund character that is not Jim or Inkubus!, here we goooo. ^^

When you learnt, while you were 'gathering intel' about him (Just chatting with him), that Mayor Buckman preferred to ride horseback then to sit in the back of a carriage, your first thought was to how much a him thing, that seemed to you. Old fashioned and hands on- and you were sure that he had been a cowboy or a ranger in another life so this was perfect.

Then, secondly you realised- that you could use this.

And oh, he was so easy to convince to spend a day with you (Or maybe more if you're really hopeless. Really lucky, more like), teaching you how to ride. You were hopeless at it, after all- which wasn't all-together a lie (you truly hadn't ridden since you were a child and your father took you out for the day. Honest-to-god, you hadn't even touched a horse since then) but it didn't hurt that you bat your eyelashes at him and pleaded your ineptitude a little bit. The Mayor's ego got inflated as expected and he was more then happy to set up a time and a place to meet with you the next day, excited to flex a skill he enjoyed and telling you to dress comfy- you don't wanna get a rash. The rubbin' can be hell, trust me.

For a moment you weren't sure if you were allowed to laugh at that, after all most men think a woman who laughs at dirty jokes is untoward- and did he really mean for it to sound the way it did??- but he seemed to wait a moment for you to 'catch up', an intrigued grin on his face, so you cracked a grin and that earned you a shoulder squeeze that gave you butterflies before he bid you goodbye. For the rest of your day all you could think was God, you liked him.

~

The next day, Buckman met you in the centre of town looking pleased as punch to see you and offered you his arm. You would walk to the stables together from there, and while you strolled together you got a chance to get a look at what he was wearing. And you were confused.

"I thought we were supposed to dress sensible, Mr Mayor??" You ask, fingers slipping into the nook of his arm.

He was just wearing his usual yellow and green clothes, just with the new addition of a cattleman hat to protect him from the sun (Perpetuating your belief that he's a cowboy in some universe somewhere), which seem heavy and restrictive to you for an activity such as horse riding. Was he?.. not?... going to ride?... Shrugging his broad shoulders, Buckman flashes you a charismatic grin. "Aw, it doesn't bother me none anymore! I could ride in anything, I was only worried about you- those dresses a yer's sure are becoming," Here he pats your hand peering out from the crook of his arm and your heart damn near flies up into your throat. "-but I don't think you'd have a good time on the back of a horse wearin' them. Which reminds me- " He turns his head fully to you, your faces closer then every before due to your linked arms. His one-good-eye flickers so obviously up and down your body, and yet- you don't feel uncomfortable. "You look absolutely lovely today, too. Its not often ya see a girl in pants- but I'm sure you know ya make 'em look better then any man."

... You swear. If this man truly does not know what he is doing to you then he is the densest son of a- "... sure, of course I know. "You shrug, a playful smirk playing at your lips despite the hurricane of butterflies raging around inside you at his words. "But it doesn't hurt to hear it."

"Well- I'm happy to take the responsibility." He winks.

~

"Alright, now- I gotcha some stairs so you can get up on Annabelle here nice and easy, how's that sound?"

"Very thoughtful." That was a concern of yours- how you might look struggling to push yourself up onto the horse today. Of course, you imagined that Buckman may have to put his hands on your waist in order to help you, which wouldn't be such a bad thing- but this is better. With the little stairs by Annabelle the sweet saddle horse, you don't make a fool of yourself at all! Which is definitely preferable.

Besides, he still holds you hand as you step up. He doesn't let go a few moments after he needn't have been touching you anymore, also, and that makes you grin to yourself as you take up the reigns.

"I thought so. Now!" Buckman gives a clap of his hands, as if to say lets get to it. You take in a deep breath, tightening your grip on the reigns. Here we go... "Annabelle here is one of our nicest beasts, real friendly. Mostly wants t' spend her days grazin- not a big racer. So I thought she might be perfect for you today, hm? Don't be afraid to pull on those reigns though darlin; if she decides to stop and have a munch; you ain't gonna hurt her I promise."

"Mhmm... " You hum, leaning carefully over Annabelle's beautiful, thick auburn neck to give her a pet. Oh, she's so lovely! "Still seems rude... how old is she?"

"Hmm," Buckman screws up his nose in thought and lord you cant help but think he is equally as lovely. "I think Bella has gotta have been with us for uh... maybe around 25-30 years?"

"And what's the lifespan for a sweet thing like her?"

"Probably about 35 years, I think. Whydoya ask, darlin'?"

"Well then I think she's earned some grazin' time, dontcha think? Pretty girl's on the homerun, and this grass looks delicious." Eyes shifting from Annabelle's pointed ear and her big eye and her long, long eyelashes to Buckman; you straighten up again and flash a grin. "I guess if she stops to take a munch, we'll just have to stop too and entertain eachother!.. Can ya handle that, sir?"

Theirs a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a grin slips across his ridiculously handsome features and you feel its a good thing you're on a horse- otherwise you might've lost feeling in your knees seeing it. "Oh I sure can, don't you worry."

~

Your interactions with the mayor went on much like that for the rest of the day; you would make a hint towards this being a little more then a riding lesson and he would give you that grin and agree- but nothing was every actually said. No admittance was uttered, by either of you. He was being frustratingly opaque and keeping his thoughts on you to himself.

You were being driven mad. The day was lovely, and you felt butterflies basically the whole time (Especially whenever he would touch you- which he seemed to take every opportunity to do. Reaching over from his horse to balance you on yours or help you lead Annabelle in a certain direction, guiding your hands to hold the reigns properly, and giving you those good job shoulder squeezes. Those even turned into hand squeezes the later in the day that it became and the bolder he became)- but you were being driven mad, all the same.

When finally it was time to get off of the horses, Buckman jumped off of his - Thomas, - first and quickly tied him up while keeping up conversation with you. Then he tied up Annabelle and then rounded the horse to where your legs were hanging.

He looked up at you and held out arms. "Well? Come on, off ya hop. Lets go. I'm gonna buy ya dinner, for doin' so well today."

Ordinarily you would be thrilled that he wants to take you to dinner now, but- is he suggesting you literally jump off?? A 14-15 hand-tall horse?? "You want me to- what about the steps??"

He shrugs, and you can tell he's enjoying this- there's an evil twinkle in his eye now. Almost a matching smirk on his mouth, too. "Dunno where they went. C'mon, I promise you'll be fine."

"I'm gonna break my legs springing from a horse like this." You exclaim incredulously, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness. "You sur, are gonna get my legs broken." All day he's been messing with you like you're a fun toy and and now he's going to get you broken.

This man!! He's so lucky he's cute.

"I'm not tellin' ya to spring off the horse, darlin'. No, no, no... Slide, like a banister."

"A living, banister."

"Exactly. C'mon- I promise, ya wont be hurt."

He is not budging. Oh lord- he's serious.

Chewing on your bottom lip, hands on the saddle on either side of you, you peer down at how far away the ground is and analyse the distance. The chances that you'll misstep and twist your ankle. How you can use this man to break your fall-

Finally after a few moments, and a reassuring look from Buckman, you take a deep breath and release your bottom lip- you don't want to accidentally bite it off when you land. "Alright... but if I trip, I'm taking you down with me. I don't care if you are the Mayor."

"Of course. Wouldn't think any less of ya."

Giving a little, concerned whimper, you carefully pushing yourself off the side of Annabelle. The fall is swift and before you even land, he's caught you; hands on your waist and easing you carefully the rest of the way to the ground so your feet make contact with the dirt softly. Huffing from the short exhilaration of that experience, you drop your hands on his shoulders and, after momentarily gathering yourself, give him a half-amused, half-perturbed look. "... well, thank you."

Under the shade of his cattleman you can see his face clearly despite the glare of the late-day sun, and the 'innocent' look he has pasted there. He gives a shrug and a sigh, and doesn't move his hands off your waist. "Oh, I wouldn't let a lady like yourself get hurt Y/N, come on now. Gimmie some credit, here."

Rolling your eyes, you don't move to step away from him at all either, like you maybe should have. If you were a respectable lady. Standing this close to a man might get you pregnant, after all- depending on the man- "Hm. You're right, I-... " Realising that this is the perfect moment, alone and relaxed, you stop talking. Should you?... should you ask?... "Buckman?" You ask, looking down and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"Darlin, you can call me George."

"Alright, George... " You take a deep breath, and drag your bottom lip through your teeth before looking up at straight at him; tilting your head to the side. "... look, are you ever going to admit you like me?" Immediately he opens his mouth, but you hold up a finger to stop him. "As more, then a friend."

... for a few moments then he doesn't say anything. And you think for a split second that he's still not going to admit it, and you're wondering why the hell- When a grin spreads across his face.

"Well, I was plannin' to see if you'd like me to court ya at dinner tonight, but- I suppose this moment's as good as any."

"You- what??" Immediately your eyes fall open wide. He was what?? He was going to- He had plans??

"Should I take this as a yes, then, sweetheart?? Hm?... "

"I-... I... " You cant believe it. Yes, he should, but- words. God, words!! They're gone-

Suddenly your close proximity is more comfortable then before, Buckman - George!! - letting go of your waist in order to touch your face, instead. Curling most of his fingers back behind your neck but touching his thumbs to your cheeks; holding you close to him so the brim of that cattleman nearly brushes your forehead. "You are adorable, sweet pea. You take your time takin' this in; I can wait. I'll be right here. But remember," he takes on of his hands off your skin, in order to boop your nose, and winks. "Granny's place closes in a couple a' hours, hm? So if you're hungry... yamight wanna think fast."

Your lips part, still racking your brain for the right words to top him after this- but coming up empty. "... for gods sake." Giving up on words, finally, you take his wrists in your hands and get up on your tip-toes; closing your eyes and kissing him for the first time.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mayor Buckman x Fem!Alive!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Yours and the mayor's routine for late-night town meetings.

Warnings: Pleasant Valley, I suppose, though its not the focus at all. Also unedited- I have to go to work but wanted to crank this out quickly!

~

After sending Boone off to gather the meeting, Buckman brewed a quick cup of coffee and went over to your house. See, your a new inhabitant of Pleasant Valley- and you're alive. So you still sleep. So he'll be waking you up, to go to this midnight town meeting.

Which you're never too pleased about.

But you are the most damn adorable sleepy person he has ever seen, so- he always volunteers to get you.

You meet him at the door, unbothered to change out of your pyjamas which is fine- he just might have to get you your coat for you. Its a bit nippy out here tonight. "Buck... " You groan, the no-longer-familiar haze of sleep still ever clear in your voice as you fight to just keep your eyes open; Moving slowly, limbs heavy as they're pulled by an invisible force back to your warm bed. "I hate you... "

"I know sweetheart." Buckman hands you the coffee, wrapped in a cloth so you don't hurt your hands, and curls your fingers around it before then reaching around you- to the hooks on your wall, close to the door. He retrieves a nice warm coat, and then looks expectantly at you. Turn around, then...

Giving a sigh at the effort, you do so and he helps you into the coat before you turn to him again and he pulls it snuggly around you while you take a little sip of the coffee, and- fuck. You have to admit, despite his inclinations towards the unholiest time for meetings and other things, this man really knows how to make a good cuppa. This is glorious. "... Thank you,"

"Not a problem." He grins, that suspicious grin he makes when he thinks he's succeeding. "Now, c'mon. We're gonna be late." Buckman is all-too-pleased to accept your gratitude, even miniscule as it was, and offers you his arm which you take immediately; curling your arm around his and leaning into him.

You let your eyes slip closed for a moment and let him guide you down the stairs, sinking into the older mans support. "I was having such a good dream... "

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He sounds sympathetic but patronizing at the same time, and you give a sigh against his shoulder, before straightening up and looking out into the dark all on your own- out of spite. The two of you are heading towards the centre of town, where the rest of the ghosts will be waiting for the meeting, and you just hope there's a seat left over. You yearn for a seat. You cant... you cant stand for half an hour! That would be- no- that would- that would be torture!

When you get to the meeting Buckman leads you up to the front, where Boone and Harper are and Harper teases you rather cruelly about how you look. Like a frazzled squirrel, he says.

... You don't even have the energy required to snark back at Harper, tonight (Or today?? God its so late... ), so you just give an indignant sniff, and turn your head away. Then you let your forehead fall forward onto Buckman's shoulder as he tells Harper to shut up for you, and close your eyes again. "Y/N looks darn cute with that bed head a' hers- "Oh, that makes you wince, and give a tiny little snort. You do not- but thanks- but you do not- "Now, wouldja watch her while I do this meeting? Don't let her fall asleep, or she'll miss all the news."

"Sure, sir."

After helping you into your seat, almost like a gentleman, Buckman gives your shoulder a pat and leaves you for the centre stage. Harper gives a snort for whatever reason, beside you, and you flash him a glare. Shut up.

"Just let me know if you start ta' fall asleep, Y/N. I'll be sure to give ya a good prod."

This boy is so mean!-

~

After the meeting is, thankfully, over- you get up all on your own - the sleepiness starting to slip away from you damnit, - and give a frustrated sigh as you look out into the darkness. Such a long... 5 minute walk... to your bed...

None the less you need to do it, so you give Harper a waive goodbye and start heading off. You're not too sure what the ghosts do all night, though you do assume its quite boring, but he goes off somewhere with purpose, seemingly. It does make you wonder... just not too hard as you trudge forth. You're too exhausted for wondering.

"Gonna sleep in t'day, darlin'?" Buckman catches up to you quickly- his energized strides being much faster then your tired little paces. You turn your head as he falls into step with you, and give a little smile.

"Yeah, definitely."

"I thought so," He nods, chuckling. You turn your head away again, breathing in fresh night time air and noticing it, for the first time tonight. Its lovely... but not as lovely as your pillow.

Almost on auto-pilot, you link up with Buckman again- your arm going through his and your body leaning into him as you walk; The feeling almost like being back in your bed. Just... on the move. Legs achy.

Exhaustedly, you let your head rest on his shoulder, allowing your eyelids to once again fall shut. Their preferred position, right now. You let out a sigh, and don't see him grinning down at the top of your head.

"Well, here's your house sweetheart. Steps," He guides you up the stairs and opens up your door for you- going inside with you and closing it behind the two of you. Once inside the peaceful, dark house, his voice takes a softer, quieter tone. "Watch out for the hallway stand- good girl. C'mon, now, lets get you to bed."

"Mhm, yeah... "

Up the stairs you go and around the corner, to your bedroom, where Buckman disconnects from you and puts out the candles you had lit before the meeting in order to help you wake up, with his fingers. While he goes around the room, hissing when he burns himself, you discard the coat at the end of the bed and plop down at the edge; Giving a moan at the feeling. Oh, even sitting on your mattress!! Its so nice... This is where you belong. Nowhere else. Just in your lovely, lovely bed...

Buckman gives a chuckle at the sound you emitted, turning around to waive you down. "Lie down there now, go back to sleep. You did a great job."

Pft, you roll your eyes but do as you told; Feeling the pillow on the side of your face as your achy body stretches out out under the covers you pull up to your chin. "Don't patronize me, old man... "

"Oh, I would never," He teases, and you don't even have to open your eyes to see he'd be smirking at you. "Alright- Sweet dreams now, sweetheart. I'll see you later."

"Goodnight... " Your eyes crack open slightly, watching him leave and oddly feeling a pang in your chest. So quickly you take a deep breath in, and sit up again- reaching out to him. "Buckman, wait."

"Hm?" He stops at the door, and turns around. Theirs a mischievous look in his eye like he knows what's coming... fortunately for him, you don't have the energy to prove him wrong.

"... " Huffing, you relinquish your dignity and ask him. "Would you stay here tonight??"

"... I'd be honoured, darlin'." His grin widens the cat that ate the canary and the mischievous twinkle turns into an entire galaxy, and yet you don't take the request back.

You roll your eyes... but feel more peaceful as you fall back onto the pillow and he drops his own jacket unceremoniously, overexcitedly, on top of yours. "Uhuh... "

As he gets into the other side of your bed, your body is once again on autopilot; Moving into the middle with him and wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your head in his chest, and effectually letting out a the most content sigh as he coils his own limbs around your waist. This is is even better then being alone in your bed. You feel so comfortable...

And you're asleep, snoring. Buckman laughs.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Masterlist: Mayor Buckman

🔞 = Smut || 🔂 = Poly || * = Requested

---<- 🥀🥀🥀 ->---

Blurbs: How Self Conscious are they in Order of Most to Least.

Blurbs: Most Delusional Yandere's to Least.

Blurbs: Most Possessive to Least.

Blurbs: Period Sex 🔞.

Blurbs: Shovel Talk.

Blurbs: S/O thinks they Smile 'Too Much'.

Blurbs: Unsolicited Dick Pick.

Drabble: Horror Villain Apocalypse.

Drabble: Mayor Buckman x Fem!Alive!Reader- Sleepy Meetings.

Drabble: Mayor Buckman x Fem!Bartender!Reader- Here for you.

Drabble: Mayor Buckman x Modern!Reader- Let me leave.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Addicted.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Inspired by the song According To You by Orianthi.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Sick You.

Drabble Set: Platonic!Horror Villains x Reader- Bonding.

Drabble Set: Platonic!Horror Villains x Reader- Bonding Part 2.

Headcanons: Awkward Moments.

Headcanons: Dating Horror Villains things Dump.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x Reader- Six; The Musical AU.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x Reader- Types of Kisses.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x SunshineIncarnate!Reader.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x Reader- You Almost Choosing Another.

Headcanons: Supernatural Villains Soulmate Marks.

Horror Villains and: What they would Put in the (7MinsInHeaven) Hat.

Imagine: Being too Late to Save Them.

Oneshot: Granny Boone and Mayor Buckman x Fem!PleasantValleyResident!Reader- Throuple.

Oneshot: Hewitts / Pleasant Valley x Reader- The Multiverse Theory and the Horror Fandom.

Oneshot: Mayor Buckman x Reader- Hell.

Oneshot: Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone x Fem!Undercover!Singer!Reader- Haunted.

Oneshot: Yandere!Mayor Buckman x HarpersFiance!Reader- Preachers Daughter.

Slashers / Horror Villains As: Animated (Children's) Movie Villain Songs.

Reactions: Horror Villains x Reader- Love Potion.

Reactions: Horror Villains x Reader- Finding out you're a Virgin 🔞.

Reactions: Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader- Them Getting Confused for your Grandparent.

Would They or Wouldn't They?: Abandon You After Their Own Orgasm 🔞.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Masterlist: Granny Boone

🔞 = Smut || 🔂 = Poly || * = Requested

---<- 🥀🥀🥀 ->---

Blurbs: Period Sex 🔞.

Blurbs: Shovel Talk.

Blurbs: Unsolicited Dick Pick.

Drabble: Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbien!Reader- You and her Beard.

Drabble: Horror Villain Apocalypse.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Sick You.

Headcanons: Awkward Moments.

Headcanons: Dating Horror Villains Things Dump #2.

Headcanons: Supernatural Villains Soulmate Marks.

Horror Villains and: What they would Put in the (7MinsInHeaven) Hat.

Imagine: Being too Late to Save Them.

Oneshot: Granny Boone and Mayor Buckman x Fem!PleasantValleyResident!Reader- Throuple.

Oneshot: Hewitts / Pleasant Valley x Reader- The Multiverse Theory and the Horror Fandom.

Oneshot: Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone x Fem!Undercover!Singer!Reader- Haunted.

Reactions: Horror Villains x Reader- Finding out you're a Virgin 🔞.

Reactions: Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader- Them Getting Confused for your Grandparent.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mayor Buckman x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: I honestly dunno what it is. Its not nice. Not the usual. Its just Buckman being horrible and you standing up for yourself- to destructive ends.

LOOK- sometimes we wanna scream at horror villains, and that's good. 🤷 Haha

Warnings: Abusive relationship, sexism, abuse in general (Emotional and physical), non-sexual choking, mentions of racism and homophobia. Also this was very quickly written before bed.

"Jesus christ!" Your head is about to explode. How big can this mans ego possibly be? You didn't think it was possible for him to get any more obnoxious but tonight has properly corrected that meagre scope. Eyes blazing, you stop walking away and whip back around on him; Both your faces twisted in anger. "You really think you're king of something, don't you?! Well you're not. You're the mayor of a tiny little town the world forgot about a century ago that's just holding onto existence by stealing scraps from the bottom of the bin!"

"We're thriving, young lady- "

"Don't call me 'young lady'! And don't use that tone- UGH!" You turn around again, bolt a few steps, scrape the tips of your fingers back over your scalp, then turn around again. "You aren't thriving. You're selling your dignity, what very little of it all you sick, backwards hicks had in the first place, to survive. Because you think its going to take you to where you're supposed to be but guess what? There's no promising that what you're looking for- The afterlife, your daughter- " Buckman's eyes flash with animosity at that part, the maddest you've ever managed to make him, and you gain a generous rush of victory at unlocking it. "Even exists. Maybe everyone that dies just gets stuck here in this miserable place, like you. And its great big cosmic prank, telling you different. So you just get to spend the rest of eternity working towards something that never was."

You know that must have occurred to him, as his hand shakes as he raises a finger at you. "You better hush up, now. For your own good. I took you in- I can kick you out, too."

"Please!" You scream, throwing your arms into your chest; Begging. And you're absolutely sure that everyone else in town can hear the two of you now if they weren't already pressing their ears up to the walls when you rushes out of the pub in a huff minutes ago; The mayor you were mad at following at your heels, equally mad. "God- Please! Release me! I'm done, here!" You are so done, here.

When he had asked you to stay all that time ago, you thought you loved him. That was a falsity. Now if he asked you again, and you got another chance- you would turn around and run.

He was a monster, to his roots. And you were so sick of it!

"You know I cant do that." Buckman's shoulders lower, along with his voice, causing your anger to nearly dissipate, you nearly close your mouth again and cease to say what's the truth- but then you think back to all his faults again and you're furious once more. Like molten lava is burning up your insides and the only way to cool it down is to scream and let the air in. Your glaring eyes worsen, deepening into an ugly scowl as he steps forward and reaches out- and his fingers clench around your forearm like iron; Yanking you forward before you realise what he was doing. A yelp escapes you, falling towards him. His voice almost comes out comforting, you would believe it was to make you feel better, truly... if it weren't for that unmistakably patronising tone. Like he were talking to a disobedient 5 year old at the store. "You're just being hysterical, Y/N. Come on home, I'll make you some tea and give you some attention. Would you like that?"

Your stomach rolls- because yes, a part of you would. You would like for him to just be the person you thought he was; Charismatic, chivalrous, sweet. You could allow yourself to sink into his arms and let his voice lead you; Be a quaint little house wife for him- you really could. You could go for that.

And you had.

But now you'd seen, and heard, too much. You had been here too long. He was racist, homophobic - didn't even realise his son was as straight as a fucking spring, - , sexist, egomaniacal, and manipulative- Unapologetically so. And you couldn't turn a blind eye to the bullshit, not anymore. You were already going to hell, it seemed, for how long you had.

So your stomach rolls, and you wrench you arm viciously and gracelessly out of his familiar grip. "No!"

"Y/N, darlin'- " His tone is threatening when that once, all-too-lovely pet name slips out, and his eye glowers at you. His face says shut up and get in the house, or I'll make you regret it.

"Or what!?" Throwing your arms out to either side of your body, you widen your eyes at him. "'No more Mr Nice guy'?? That's a little much, even for you. Don't you think!? Besides I think that has sailed." You hiss the last part out between grit teeth.

Gritting his own teeth, Buckman comes forward towards you this time; Grabbing you by your upper arms to hold you in place and you don't move to throw him off but your horrible glare does intensify, feeling as if it might be able to throw him off you on its own if only he would take it seriously. "Listen to me- you're makin' a scene."

You could not give a flying fuck. "You're sad!" You suddenly blurt, realising that its futile to argue with him, so all that comes to mind and to mouth is all the nasty things you want to say to him. That you want him to know about himself. The things that hurt you, because you wish he could be different. "You're ridiculously sad, and pathetic, and- just- broken. And I have to get the hell out of here before you make me the same- like you did the rest of these thugs!"

A cruel smirk spreads across his mouth. "Oh sweetheart... if I am, then it has already rubbed off on you. Its far too late for escapin'. Whatever high ground y' think you have is nothin' but the heels on the boots I gave you." Raising his chin, looking down on you in pride, Buckman's fingers clench tighter around your arms tighter and you gasp; Wincing and looking away from him for a moment, holding in a cry.

But only for a moment- before you look back to sneer and glare right in his face; Because you aren't wearing anything he gave you, today. Which is the reason he was frustrated in the first place, earlier. You were wearing what you came to this horrid little town in; Your jeans, your Halloween T-Shirt, and your runners. So you sneer, and watch that smirk on him turn into a frown full of hatred. "Oh sweetheart, I don't think so." You tell him gently, calmly, even though a storm rages on in your eyes and burns at your chest.

"I should've thrown those in the fire."

"Well, hind sights a bitch."

Then a hand wraps around your throat and you take a deep breath, lifting your chin to escape his new confining grip- This wont be the first time he's done this though, hand straining and getting comfortable in its place around your neck. His eyes darken impossibly. "I still could."

"Burn me, throttle me, drown me, break me- nothings going to change the fact that you have no control over me." You narrow your eyes at him. "None."

After half a damn moment, the bastard perkily tilts his head to the side. "And yet!" Is all he says, before smiling - a horrible, spiteful, evil expression, - , and promptly increases the pressure around your throat.

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabble Set

Part 2 to this post.

Plot/s and Includes: Basically, your relationship with each horror villain has changed (Developed to friendship/platonic love) since your sister/friend + their S/O died, independent of both your relations to them.

Jason Voorhees x DeadS/O'sStepSibling!Reader- Set during the events of FVSJ; Jason saves you from Freddy. You're his person. And no one will touch you.

Which totally works for you.

Mayor Buckman x DeadS/O'sSister!Reader- Some dudes at Pleasant Valley wont leave you alone no matter how many times you ask/tell them to go away until the mayor comes to the rescue (Their rescue) + Some nice fluffy 'coming out' and acceptance by the old fashioned coot. Reader is a lesbian, and unrelatedly... a badass.

Warnings: ATTEMPTED RAPE, Sexual harassment, blood, and crude language (Respectively by drabble except the crude language- that's throughout)

Notes:

Yep, no Hoyt, sorry ): I really cant write for him at the moment.

Yayyyyy, more non-romantic drabbles! ^^ I really should do more of these. There's also this one though if you haven't read it and want more platonic love immediately XD: Slashers x Reader(Mostly Chucky and Michael) || Oneshot)

Also Jason's genders are not specified but Buckman's is a female.

Jason Voorhees:

One minute you were mistakenly trudging through the forest towards Jason's cabin, unknowing of the shit that is currently going on in his life, and the next there's rough, hard tree bark digging unpleasantly into your back and you're winded.

Slowly opening your eyes from the shock of being grabbed and rammed into a big tree (Luckily your head didn't clonk back into it, lest you would feel dizzy, too.) you find the unfamiliar burnt face of a man in a horrible brown fedora practically licking his chops at you.

Oh, boy.

"U-ummmm... " Awkwardly straightening up against the tree, hands still in your pockets but now balled into tight fists, your gaze flickers around the forest of what you can see behind the guy. No signs of Jason. No signs of anyone, actually. Its deadly quiet except the sound of trees rustling overhead and leaves floating to the floor. When the man doesn't say anything, you feel compelled to do so yourself. "Hello? I'm- I'm Y/N... "

Perhaps spending so much time with a machete wielding forest maniac has destroyed your sense of self preservation, a little bit.

This does not, though, prevent the stutters from appearing in your voice, and the high tone you speak in. Because the way this man is looking at you chills you to the core.

Where did he even come from?? The burn ward!? How has strayed so far from the hospita- wHAT is THAT on his HAND!?

Your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and your body stiffens up even more, as a hand comes up into view and theirs knives instead of a fingers. Or- maybe there are still fingers. You don't know. You're a little focused on the knives that are nearing your throat to really care about the mechanics of this thing.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-

"Y/N... " Oh jesus, his voice sounds like someone took a cheese grater to his lungs. Jason where are you?? "Now... this, is God... " Is this man seriously referring to the finger knives as G o d? You would honestly roll your eyes but ah... not in this kind of prickly situation. His lips suddenly stretch into a bright smile. "Say hi!"

Great, a loon.

But you are not one to argue with the knife-fingered man, so... "Hi... hi, God... " I'm still looking around and hoping, praying that Jason appears out of nowhere like he tends to do, like he isn't the behemoth that he is but Easy-Bake-Oven-Gone-Wrong doesn't seem to like that, and you flinch sharply when the blades suddenly slam haphazardly, hard against the tree right by your head- one catching your cheek on the way and causing a long, luckily not-too-deep cut, there. Like a cat scratch. Still, a hiss escapes you and you look down, catching your baring's again.

This is really happening. This is really happening.

You're stuck in the middle of the forest, where no one will find your body for days, and no one can hear you screaming, with a man possessing a weapon... your heart starts to finally speed up, and you start freaking out appropriately. Breathing becomes harder, heavier as you glance back up at the man.

... He's smirking. Undoubtedly pleased with your new, panicked state. You flinch again when a hand, not the one with knives, holds the side of your head in a mocking gesture of 'comfort'. Your eyes snap closed, too. "Tut... scared? Oh, don't be... I'm only going to turn you inside-out!"

He's gotten so close now and you can tell without even opening your eyes, which squeeze even tighter closed, as you feel his breath on your hair. "Hmm, but first thing... "

A knife digs in between your skin and the waistband of your pants and your eyes suddenly snap open, fists coming out of your pockets and trying to push him back by the shoulders. "No- No no. Let me go, let me go- JASON! Jason, help me!!" With a knee to a side of his hips you force him to stay back and off you and with a forearm you keep him from moving closer- but then you see the knives, wriggling nearing your soft, fleshy side and gasp- Oh no.

Breath catches in your throat, no longer screaming for Jason, and your mind's just racing - what can you do, what can you do, what can you do, - when heavy footfalls appear out of nowhere and suddenly, to your utter relief, the burnt man is ripped away from you- and lands, groaning in pain a good couple metres away on the forest floor.

Jason is in front of you now instead, and as you both breath heavy - you calming down from your blind panic earlier, and him trying to level his fury at seeing you in trouble, hearing your fearful screams, -, Jason just looks at you. Assessing you thoroughly with his eyes. Are you hurt? Any marks!?-

You can tell when he sees the scratch on your cheek because he stiffens up, and rights his shoulders, and intensifies his search. Grabbing your wrist firmly - but not painfully, - he yanks it up so he can see under it and look for any tears in your clothes or signs of blood, and you just sigh- tired from being scared and not super energised enough to call him off. "Jason... - I'm fine. Just shaken- ah!- " You nearly trip when he twirls you around to see your back and roughly bush off bark and dirt from the back of your jacket. Luckily you manage to fix your footing before you faceplanted into the ground and got a mouthful of dirt like the man Jason flung off you, holding the arm that Jason has not got hold of, out for balance.

When he's assured that, visibly, you're okay, he lets you go and looks at your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that he was scowling at the cut on your cheek, before his dark eyes flicker to yours and you manage to give a soft smile, despite the uncomfortable way your heart and stomach are still flipped. You do feel safer though... as long as Jason's here. He wont let anything happen to you.

He does not seem entirely convinced of that smile, which is fair, as it doesn't totally reach your eyes; But he manages to step back from you. You cross your arms and sniff, feeling a dull throb as wind screams across your cheek and look to the ground for a moment- catching your baring's once again.

When you look up this time, Jason's pointing in the direction of his cabin. You open your mouth to object, say you kinda want to go home now, but the man reads your mind and turns you around gently by the shoulders, and pats you on your back till you get moving.

Like, off you pop.

See you soon.

Just gotta rake up up some crap off the forest floor.

Mayor Buckman:

These three assholes have been following you around on and off since lunchtime today at the bar. Goddamn you just wanted to enjoy some whiskey with Boone, but no- No, evidently that was no in the cards.

Because these three douches, decided that their desire to harass you was more important then your decision to do what you felt like. Jesus christ. You are fricken furious.

Every other week, especially during spring break, a group of kids including at least 2 boys like this turn up, heading for beer pong and body shots and decide, because they're held up here by choice, that they can spread the party animal lifestyle with everyone here.

And generally that's okay because the residents of this town are more then happy to humour them until their deaths- but you, have never, offered any inclination that you are part of this.

My god, are you pissed off. Totally, and utterly, furious.

What the fuck is wrong with these people!?

And yes, you do acknowledge the irony in that statement coming from someone who hangs around a group of cannibalistic, confederate ghosts but alas- you're too mad right now to see sense.

You! Are not! Here! To Entertain! Stupid sex-obsessed college boys!!

Not to mention the fact that you are a motherfucking lesbian. A fact these 'gentlemen' have not even considered. Of course.

Doesn't matter.

A large hand suddenly comes down to connect and caress the bare skin of your upper arm suddenly and you immediately whip around- knocking the bastard in the face with your elbow. He goes 'oof' and his head snaps back satisfyingly swiftly and you smirk in triumph before scowling, again. "Do not touch me."

"Fucking christ, bitch!" The blondes nose starts to bleed down over his lips and onto his stupid beach boy's tank top as he covers his nose, looking horrified that you would do such a thing- even after you told him, quite firmly, more then once to not touch you. "The hell was that for!?"

Ughhhhh, what a goddamn moron.

His two friends are kinda chuckling at the side over this; Covering their mouth and sniggering to each other. Your poisonous gaze connects with theirs, slowly, and they quickly try to stop laughing...

before just collapsing into total, uproarious laughter- bending over and holding their stomachs and knees. Your eyes narrow at the display.

"Oh- my god, man! Haha." One of them fights to speak, glancing up at you but only beginning to laugh harder. "You're trying to look scary, haha b-but hahaha... ohhh my god... " He wipes away a tear. "haha, you just look, ha ha... cute... "

At that, you roll your eyes deeply and turn away. Jesus christ, you need to get out of here. You hate them; that's it. Total dickwads.

But once again,

they mother

fucking

touch you.

One of the funny boys, who's still sighing and lightly giggling, drops a heavy, sweaty, stinky arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him. "Oookay, baby. I'm sorry- we, we're sorry. We wont do anything to you again. Just come on back and have another drink with us! We'll even pay- right boys?"

"Yeah!"

"Fucking bitch, I think she broke my nose. Probably a dyke- "

A slapping sound reverberates around the area, and oddly enough- it didn't come from you as you stiffen up slightly under your skin. "Dude! Don't say that."

"Yeah!" The guy still fucking holding you, leans his face in closer to you, and smirks. "We still have a chance, I think."

Where in the world did he get an idea like that!?- OH-

You've had enough, and take hold of the part of his sticky, floppy arm that's hanging over your breasts and pull him taught against your back- then bend over and fling over and onto the damn ground.

He lands with a groan - hopefully on some pointy rocks, - and his hair spreads out around his head like a grotty, poopy halo as his face twists in pain. "Ohhh... "

Yeah, 'oh'.

"Christ, whore!! Uncalled for!!" The guy, the ginger, who slapped the other guy moments ago exclaims accusingly at you- fury in his eyes. Oh good, even playing ground.

You're about to rush at him next, but you barely lift off before an arm - a familiar, beige suit clad one this time, - curls around your waist and yanks you back, behind them. Buckman approaches the men carefully, hands up in a gesture of surrender as you just stand back, arms crossed tightly and seeth.

Honestly, you're probably steaming.

"Woah, there. Now, what seems to be the problem, here?" Buckman glances back at you shortly, before offering ear mostly to the two standing, boys. The ne on the ground is still by your feet whining and you consider stepping on him. You are so mad. You don't remember the last time you were this mad. "I'm sure we can talk it out."

"That chick just went crazy, dude." At that, you let out a puff of laughter. 'Dude'- Buckman must just be loving, that. We were just offering to buy her a drink! But the stupid lesbo punched me in the face! And took down Trent- look! Bitches insane."

Rolling your eye, you slowly release a sigh- calming down. Buckman turns to raise his eyebrows at you like is this trueee?, and you avoid his eyes. "I elbowed him- I did not punch him." The mayor sighs, evidently exhausted, before gathering his wits again.

"Ach- technicality, slut!"

What is with these boys? Calling you a slut and whore. Isn't the problem that you aren't either of those things???

"Okay, okay, okay," Buckman turns back to the boys, raising his hands in a 'stop' gesture this time. "First of all, we don't need ta' be usin' language like that. You sure ain't gonna get anywhere with a lady like that, especially this lady." With a thumb he points back at me, getting eye rolls from the two boys he's standing before. "Second of all, allow me to apologise genuinely for her behaviour- "

"What!?" You squeak out, totally shocked. He didn't even ask you for your side of the story! The true version- He but waives you off.

The ginger smirks at you like a weasel and you struggle against the urge to jump on his back and rip out his hair; He seems to recognise the look in your eye, and averts his gaze back to the mayor.

You cross your arms again and look off to Granny Boone and some of the other women, to distract yourself. "Stupid fucking canary man, with the deeply offensive fucking eyepatch, and little dismissive waive!? Do I look like Y/S/N to you?!-"

"- and offer a free meal for each of you at Boones infamous, hotel bar. Just tell 'em that Mayor Buckman sent ya, and they'll bring you on out some of the yummiest gruel you ever did taste. Sound good? Can we put this whole mess behind us, hm?"

Uh, no-

"Oh, sure!"

"No?!- " Another slapping sound. Again, from the red head to the bleeding blonde.

"Dan! F r e e f o o d !! Shut the fuck up."

Trent just groans on the floor, sitting up suddenly and dealing with the headrush that comes with recovering from that particular attack.

You're just enjoying the view of him holding his head and moving suuuuper slowly, when Buckman trudges over to you and links his arm with yours as he passes- effectively dragging you promptly along with him. "Yeek- "

"Now, What. Happened? You know we aren't supposed to bother the guests," A small, devious smirk stretches one corner of his mouth at the word 'guests', but quickly he moves on as you roll your eyes. "And there you were- bothering them."

For a moment you consider explaining yourself as you turn your head to look at Buckman, but ultimately decide you're too tired and make 'pfft' sound, looking away again.

He slows to a stop and rounds on you now, gripping your arms so you don't walk off. "Don't you 'pfft' me, young lady." You peek up him from under one eyelid, as you have now closed them and turned your head away stubbornly and see the man giving you a stern look if you've ever seen one. It honestly cracks a little smile out of you- Who does he think you are? His wayward child??

Then you close your eyes tight again and cross your arms more cured around your chest, looking down to the ground uncomfortably. Taking a deep breath, you look up again and open both your eyes. "The bastards wouldn't leave me alone. Kept touching me when I asked them not to."

At this, both yours and Buckman's eyes snap to his hands on you but you just give a shrug.

Quickly he moves on- "Well that's understandable. Don't you worry- they'll be all yours soon enough." He winks, conspiratorial about the whole thing. You roll your eyes, but sigh.

"Right... hah... "

"Also, pumpkin," He slips an arm over your shoulder this time and the two of you start walking again. "What was that I heard about them callin' you a... errr... I think the term was 'lesbo'? Any idea what that one is is?"

Your chest cavity, and everything inside it, goes cold all of a sudden.

"Iii... uh... it means.. lesbian... "

Glancing at him to see his reaction, you see that he just blinks. In 0.2 seconds, he's going to get awkward and you're going to feel uncomfortable, and you desperately want to avoid that but you don't know what to say so your mind absolutely races- but- he speaks up first.

"Oh- well I get it, then. Reprobates were callin' you that just cuz you didn't reciprocate their disgusting feelings??" You double take at the freezing cold, hard look in his one eye as he says that, and honestly start to feel a little bit chilly under the hot Georgia sun.

"I- I guess, yeah... "

He shakes his head, looking away. "... wastin' perfectly good food and whiskey on good-for-nothin's like that... "

As he mutters to himself some more, language becoming darker and more foul as he disappears deeper into his own little world, you start to feel quite awkward. And waive a hand in front of his face. No no no, none of this right now. No thank you, sir-

Good grief, how did Y/S/N deal with this all the time, I am at the end of my tether with this man...

He wakes up with a jolt, glancing around then at you, flashing a pleasant smile. "Sorry, pumpkin, my bad. Just burning thunderwood." Clearly. You start moving again, and you realise with frustration that you're headed towards the bar. "Anyway, even if you did like women- who could blame ya? Certainly not me." He taps the side of your head with fingers on the arm laid out over your shoulders to get your full attention, and lowers his voice. "Granny Boone, either."

Then he winks, and lets go of you- your eyes wide at him.

You slowly let out the breath you were holding back anxiously before, shoulder dropping. What... really?? Is he saying what you think he's saying??? He nods, and smiles brightly. Ohhhh, that's why she dealt with him, you think, sighing with utter relief.

Then you glomp him.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mayor Buckman x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: (This is set right after the events of the last drabble, Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbian!Reader except this is a completely different reader and we follow Buckman after he left that drabble) You multitask running a bar on a Friday night, fending off Hank (An OC I guess?) who’s self-proclaimed love for you can be a real hassle, and comforting the mayor on a bad night.

Warnings: Reader gets harassed, but its not a threatening kind of harassment. Hank’s just annoying and you can handle it.

~~~

“Hank, go home.”

“But love! - love, stop wiping down the tables. St- Stop it. I- I’m trying to profess my love to you baby!” The man falters, as you continue to finish wiping off a table and move on to the next empty one to take the empty glasses. “Come, come on… “

“No time, Hank.” You roll your eyes, getting back behind the bench, putting the glasses by the sink and, just as the man raises his finger as if asking to talk again you drop down to your knees to grab a new rag. “Very busy!”

“Honey, I love you!”

“So, so, busy!” For god’s sake, Hank! Get the hint!

“But! -“

“Excuse me Hank, thank you. Y/N, rum if you please?”

Hank looks unsure, stepping back and letting Mayor Buckman sit down in the stool he was blocking as you get up and flash the harasser a ‘Oh, what can I do???’ kind of smile and shrug combo. Hank looks at the mayor, looking almost defeated. He’s been up to this business all day, it’s about time he gives up! “Mayor!”

“Coming right up, Mr Mayor.” Quickly turning to get the bottle off the shelf and a clean glass, you ignore whatever Hank’s now doing for a moment. You’re sure he’s looking wounded again and mopey but that’s not really your problem, now is it? Finishing up pouring a nice big pint for the mayor, you turn around and see both men doing the exact same thing- the picture of vanquishment. Two sad sacks sitting side by side with their elbows on the bench. Hank, holding his pounding head and Buckman rubbing his eyes.  

It honestly makes you want to laugh a little bit; But, you’re a professional. And as bartender, you are also the town therapist.

“Your rum.” You set down the drink in front of Buckman and he quickly wraps his hands around it, dragging it towards him. Staying busy, you start washing the dirty glasses from before with no need to plan your next movements table-wise. You’ve been doing this for years, so you have a system. In a moment, you’ll hit tables 2, 4 and 6 to ask if the parties there need refills, then see off tables 7 and 5 who were just having dinner and then have nothing much to do since all the parties are going to need are refills from then on.

So plenty of drunk therapy time.

Drying the glasses, you turn around back to the bar to see Hank drop his face into the wooden bench and Buckman finish his drink and push the glass back, tapping the rim for more. Well, I know whats wrong with Hank… Sighing, you tilt your head at him. “What’s up, Mr Mayor? Paperwork getting you down again?”

“No… “He rubs under his nose. “Just… ah… women troubles, I suppose… “Buckman rolls his eyes

Hanks sits up straight, pouts with a splinter in his nose and hits the bench. “Talk to me about it, brother.”

“Calm down there Hank.” You deadpan, before tapping your nose and looking meaningfully at him and returning to your mayor as Hank finds for the splinter and winces. Your furrow your eyebrows sympathetically to Buckman as you put down the glass you were drying and pour him more rum. “Sorry to hear that sir. Granny Boone and you are having trouble?”

“Nothing that we haven’t always had.”

… Oh.

OH. Oh.

You clear your throat, trying not to give anything away to Hank who’s listening. You know all about Boones lover; you should have known it was about her. The lady comes in here every now and then to drink and she let slip once about what’s going on between the 3 of them, and it was big news for you to hear - still is, actually, -, your jaw nearly hit the floor when she said it, but you moved on. Such is your creed as a barkeep; Besides, that was definitely not the craziest, and most certainly not the most horrible secret, that you’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing about in this post.

“Uhm, you mean, the other woman?” Buckman’s eyes blow open and he opens his mouth to shut you up as Hank raises an eyebrow in surprise and curiosity. You wink and smirk when Hank is looking at Buckman instead of you, leaning on the bench and hoping he gets the hint. “Theodosia? Your perfect purebread? Gorgeous, silky black main?”

Hank makes an ‘Oh’ face and nods; That makes more sense, doesn’t it? A horse. Horses are always getting between wives and their husbands. And its not a surprise at all that, with a horse like Theodosia, Buckman would show favouritism. Right?

Hm. I’m so clever.

Feeling Hank calm down beside him, Buckman relaxes also and looks at your cautiously, cradling his glass again. “Yeah, Boone just doesn’t get a man’s relationship with his horse. There ain’t nothin’ I can say to explain it to her.”

You shrug, getting out a glass and holding it out to Hank, raising your eyebrows. He nods and smiles widely at you, so you pour him some rum as well and slide it over to him. “Well, I myself don’t understand your predicament truly- I mean, I’m not involved. But I am sorry for it.” What do you say in a situation like this? ‘Tough break, bro’? “Sucky, truly, ah…” Nope, that’s worse. “Sucky… “Don’t say it again! “Uhm, I mean… Tough… tough break, bro?”

Oh my god.

You take a deep breath and compose yourself, holding the bar. When you open your eyes to give Buckman a half smile so he knows its okay to laugh at you, you’re surprised to see he doesn’t look ready to make fun of you at all. He’s looking at you rather kindly, actually- maybe not like he feels much better about his situation because of your words, but maybe like the effort you made was cute.

Smiling, he pats your hand. “I appreciate the effort, Y/N.”

You grin brightly back. “No problem!”

Hank looks between the two of you a couple times, mouth setting in a firm frown and a look of displeasure deeply creases his forehead. Leaning forward, he sticks himself right close to Buckman so their arms touch and he’s definitely within the little bubble you the Mayor found yourselves in. Buckman doesn’t move. “Hey Y/N.”

“Yes Frank?”

“Hank!”

Oh right! Rats. Back to life. Wake up, Y/N! That breaks you out of the moment. You turn and smile apologetically at Hank, pouting and just all around looking completely mopey about the situation. “Oh! Sorry Hank, haha. Another drink, is it?”

Damn the mayor and his cuteness- Because that’s all that was. A moment of appreciation.

You blow air out of your cheeks as you turn for the rum again without an answer from Hank, widening your eyes at the same time. Better be, at least…

“Uh, yeah, sure darlin’! And, to remind you sweetheart! -Of our date! Tomorrow! I made us plans I did, at Granny Boone’s bed and breakfast! We’ll have brunch- all fancy like. OH! Sorry, Mr Mayor, should I not talk about her?” You roll your eyes, laughing just enough that air puffs out of your mouth and your shoulders jump once at Hank’s lack of subtlety. Turning around, you even catch the boy looking wide eyed, with high concerned eyebrows at Buckman, grabbing his arm. Buckman’s giving him a pinched smile, peeling his hand off of him and assuring him its absolutely fine.

At least, you think. He’s not on Buckman’s lap anymore.

Or pulled the mayor up onto his lap. You make a sudden sour face, pouring rum yet again, and shudder. Ugh, you’ve been there, unfortunately. Its not the most pleasant place to be. Or maybe that extra lump was just for me… God almighty Y/N, stop thinking about Hank’s lump, it’ll give you nightmares.

“Here you go, Hank.” Crossing your arms on the bench on leaning on them, you wink. “And don’t you worry; There’s no need to get all to get all bent outta shape over George- I’m just, appreciating the view.”

Hank’s mouth drops open and at your use of the mayor’s first name, jumping to conclusions that you knew he would, making you start to laugh. But you grin and have to look away to protect your face - your blush, -, at Buckman’s reaction to your words. Your, what could be, possibly, if you s q u i n t, flirt. His eyebrows have risen in surprise, but there is nothing innocent about how he’s smirking. “’George’?!-“

Immediately you sober up, cutting off the flirty attitude before you lose yourself, or say something you, and Buckman would regret. You take a deep breath, yank your rag off your shoulder with a finesse the practise of something unbelievably mundane over and over gets you and head towards tables 2, 4 and 6. “And we’re not going on any brunch tomorrow Hank, Jesus. Get it together.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plots / Includes: Just some very short, very self indulgent, very fluffy drabbles of them taking care of you while you’re sick because I am dying (: (: (:

Human!Chucky Lee Ray: The bastard climbs through your window (Even though you have told him a million times that he is WELCOME to USE the FRONT DOOR.) not looking for much more than a hook up… and finds you curled up in bed; ‘Dying’, as you tell him.

Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: You’ve been totally overworking yourself at the pub recently and today you wake up sick as a dog- and well, there’s no damn way that your partners are going to let you leave the house until you’re 100% better. *This is set in the world of This Oneshot, where they’re in love with you but you’re uncomfortable with the whole thing… but also subconsciously like them a lot too.

Wheezy Weasel: Turns out your boyfriend, who is not the picture of health himself, is actually quite good at taking care of people when they’re sick. You now know how the rest of the Toon Patrol have survived to adulthood. (Sidenote: Especially Smartass. That man does not stop to rest.)

Warnings: Boone and Buckman lightly kidnap you but only out of love, and Wheezy undresses you but its really not sexual at all. Its all fluff ^^

Tag list: @marinerainbow , @miss-understood and @astridflo

Human!Chucky Lee Ray:

“Easy does it, easy does it… agh!- “

The sound of Chucky toppling through your bedroom window rouses you from your heavy dozing session, and when all the pain comes back to your head and your nose starts dripping once again you let out your own groan; Throwing the blankets over your head to hide from the world. “Chuckyyyy!”

“Fuck, I always forget how high up this damn window is. You should put a step stool here for me, one of these days I’m gonna break my face.” He grumbles, making a cacophony of creaky and flappy sounds as he gets up and brushes himself off. 

“Get outtt,” You groan again, squeezing your eyes shut. His loud voice is grating on your very sensitive earbuds right now. Feeling the bed dip beside your hips, you assume Chucky has sat down and when a hand lands on your waist, you sigh. “… I’m sick, Chucky… “It would be nice if he would comfort you, but you kinda doubt it.

“Ohh… Yeah, that explains the clinical atmosphere in here. You at deaths fucken door, or something?”

Sniffling, you roll over under his hand to face him and nod under the covers. “Yes.”

“You are not, shut up.” Despite his annoyingly harsh words, Chucky slides down to lay on the mattress next to you, above the covers though. “Well, guess I’m not getting any… go back to sleep, then. Just stay under those blankets, I don’t need to be catching whatever disease you caught.”

Peaking just your eyes out from under the blanket and your noise is as nasally as it gets- it makes him snigger but you ignore it. “You’re staying?”

He smirks, yanking the blankets back up over the rest of your head. “It’d be kinda of rude of me, to turn up here to fuck you but just leave cuz I can’t… wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess I’m staying here.”

“… Thank you.” You know Chucky’s not great with his emotions, he’s always either too hot or too cold but this is an uncharacteristically soft moment for him- you’re going to enjoy it while it lasts.

It jostles you when he moves to get comfortable, stealing a pillow that was half under your head and folding it under his own, sleep entering him voice as he settles down. “Mhm.” Okay. Comforted by the fact he’s going to stay, you let your heavy eyelids fall shut again and snuggle closer to his warm body. “… mm, sleep tight… “

Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone:

At first when you wake up and force your body up into a sitting position, you have no clue where you are. You’re squinting around at the unfamiliar bedroom you’re in all alone, feeling a confused sense of dread flood your blood stream- the kind where you don’t move a muscle, just your eyes as you gaze about the room and try to figure out the puzzle.

… Until you’re suddenly thrown into the worst coughing fit of your life- just really terrible. It make syour eyes water and mucus build up in your throat. When it’s over, thankfully, you give a big, terrible sniffle and groan long and hard into your hands. Whatttttttttttttt? No… I can’t be sick… Noooooo… You have a business to be running! Where the fuck are you and where did this virus come from? None of this will at all do-

“You’re awake, then! ~ “The door immediately across from you opens up then, and you’re not even surprised at who comes in- exasperated, yes. Nauseous at the sight of syrup drenched pancakes in her hands, yes.

But not surprised.

“Boone… “You start, and find that you’re voice is as course as it gets, and promptly lose your mouth because- ow.

“I think you should go back to sleep for a while, but I got you some breakfast here to pick at first! You need your strength, sweetheart~ “

I’m not your sweetheart, you think, giving her a deadpanned glare as she comes forward with the stack of sugar dressed up as Breakfast. Usually pancakes would make you happy, but right now with how you’re feeling and your sore throat? Hell no. Just smelling them make you feel like being sick. “… that’s okay.” You force out, despite the pain. “I’m fine. I’m just going to go to wor- “

“Your throat must be killing you,” Boone laments, ignoring you entirely as she sinks down on the bed beside you. “Georges coming with some lemon and honey tea, that’ll fix it right up!”

… that actually does sound pretty helpful. “Thank you, but- “

“Don’t talk honey, we’ve got you.” Boone cuts you off again. Yes, that would be the problem, you sigh in resignation, but go totally stiff when the woman reaches over and tucks some of your hair behind your ear; A deeply concerned look on her face. “Where is that old bastard with the tea?” She seems to mutter to herself, then, and you’re rolling your eyes when he appears.

The mayor takes a seat on the opposite of your legs that Boone is on and wraps your hands around the mug in your lap, wrapped in a tea towel so it doesn’t hurt to hold. “Goodmorning darlin!~ Gotcha some tea, here- careful, its hot.”

Yep- not your darling. But thanks, I didn’t realise that tea was hot. Nodding gratefully nonetheless of your sarcastic inner thoughts, you cup the mug carefully in your lap and your body actually relaxes to the smell- embarrassingly enough. You can feel the stuffiness in your head clearing as the steam wafts up to your face.

Boone’s feeling your forehead, which must feel like a kettle, and frowning. “Make sure you force some food down, too, an empty stomach’ll just make it all worse.”

Taking a glance at the pancake sin her lap, you press your lips together in a straight line quickly and look away. “… How did I get here? Y’all didn’t kidnap me, did you?”

It was a joke, apparently a poor one though because Buckman almost looks guilty when he goes to answer. “Well… not per say… I don’t think… “

What!? “Not per say??”

“Well, you fainted at the pub and we- well, we made an executive decision to just… take you home after that.” Honestly, it’s a mystery to you sometimes that he is the smooth talker in this damn town. You open your mouth to say something about his lack of tact, when the full meaning of his words set in.

“- I fainted??!”

“You’ve been workin’ real hard lately, sweetheart,” Boone explains, producing a damp cloth from a bowl on the side table and pressing it gently to your head. At the same time, her husband pats your hand, and- And it feels good, damnit! You wish you would have the strength right then to fly out of there like a bat from hell, but you just… don’t. Too tired, too sick… too weak. “It was likely to catch up to ya eventually- you really shouldn’t push yourself so hard... ”

“I’m fine- “  

“Oh, so you don’t mind collapsin’ on the floor in front of the whole darn town every now and then?” Buckman cuts in, raising his brows at you- to which you roll your eyes at and turn away from him. Well, no, you don’t enjoy that. “In that case, maybe we should just install some mats- “Turning to Boone, he continues the lark and if looks could kill then your mayor would be dead and buried by now. “What do you think, dear, bear skin or cotton?”

“I’d say both, considering the big ol’ egg forming on their forehead here.” Oh, so it will be twin graves.

“So right.”

“… “Cheeks warm from more than just your fever, you glare at them both hard for a good moment, before being angry at all becomes too exhausting a thought and you just give a deeply frustrated sigh; Lifting the mug to your face and avoiding eye contact with either of them.

Hopefully you get better real quick.

Wheezy Weasel:

As soon as you admitted that you were sick, Wheezy had you up on your feet and was marching you off to the bathroom. “C’mon… “He mumbles in that lazy drawl of his, closing the door behind you both. You stand there with your arms crossed, just struggling to stand as you watch him reach into the shower and turn the taps on. He feels until the water is a good, hot temperature and steam billows out of the cubical before stepping back and gesturing with his thumb to the stream. “Test that,”

While you reach in delicately and check it yourself, nodding when you get used to it quickly, Wheezy kneels down and starts unlacing your shoes. You drop your arm back down to your side, the limb too heavy to hold up for long, and give your boyfriend a little peculiar smile. “Wheezy… “

“Just relax Y/N, I aint gonna try anything.”

“I believe you… “You’ve been together for nearly half your lives now, seeing eachother naked is not a big deal. I mean, you like it of course, but it doesn’t have to be about- its not always- there’s not always a sexual undertone. You feel comfortable with him, is what you mean.

“Okay, step outta those.”

As you follow his instructions, slipping your feet easily out of the sneakers that he loosened up for you, he gets up again and unbuttons your shirt. “I can take care of myself, you know?”

He gives a huff and rolls his eyes. “As a matter a fact, no, I don’t know that. You tried to go t’ work today. So that means, I’m in charge now.” You can’t help the little, tired grin on your face as you let him help you out of your shirt, even holding your arms up for him when he guides them up into the air so that he can lift your undershirt carefully over your head. “So deal with it.”

“Yes sir.” You tease, getting a rough chuckle from the smoker as he moves onto your pants. Getting more and more tired the more you stand, you take advantage of his presence in front of you and wrap your arms over his shoulders to help hold you up; Letting your head fall forward and your eyelids fall shut while he focuses on unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping your bottoms.

Once he shoves your pants and underwear down, you step out of them and he chucks your discarded outfit onto the bench before guiding you towards the shower. “Alright, lock the door when I leave. Don’t need Greasy or Psycho waltzing in here while yer relaxin’.”

“Hmm,” You hum, eyes still closed. When he gives you a kiss on the forehead, though, you open them up slowly and look up at him only slightly adoringly… okay super adoringly, because he’s perfect and oddly kind and you know you’re so lucky to have him. “Okie.”

With his hand still cupping half your face, Wheezy gives you a half stern look. “Stay in there until you feel your sinuses loosen up, okay?”

“Yep~ “

“I’ll bring ya pyjama’s in a couple minutes and leave ‘em on the floor outside. Then go straight t’ bed, and I’ll bring ya some soup.”

“Yes sir… “

“Hm,” He huffs again, a lazy smirk spreading across his face for a moment before he gives you another forehead kiss, pats your back, and leave you to it.

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You know you shouldn’t be with them, but you cant control yourself when they're near. You’re Addicted (Kelly Clarkson).

I'm hooked on you, I need a fix, I can't take it Just one more hit, I promise I can deal with it I'll handle it, quit it, just one more time, then that's it Just a little bit more to get me through this It's like I can't breathe It's like I can't see anything Nothing but you

Includes: Bill Sykes, 2002!Captain Hook, Mayor Buckman and Scar (Colours coincide with warnings so all blue warnings are for the Sykes drabble and so on)

Warnings: Dark themes throughout. References to his Mafia/Gang/Crime group, use of guns, inability to leave a bad situation, fingering and teasing, AFAB reader wearing a dress, this one the smutty one tho is probably the least dark, gore, public execution, yandere character and activity, manipulation, not letting you leave a relationship you're not comfortable in, allusions to smut. Lemme know if theirs more!

Bill Sykes:

It didn’t feel like this at the start, when you first met Sykes. So lost and… stuck. You thought he was so interesting, and he made you feel like an adult for once in your life, like a full person- he treated you like one. And for someone just out on their own, freshly grown up and all alone… it was special.

It made you think he was special. Like he was more than the nasty, lowlife criminal he really is. Which you know that he is- you’ve been at the business end of his pistol enough times to realise that, now. But now you’re in love with him, somehow. Yes, in love. With Bill Sykes; Bill Sykes, with his cigars and his money and his penchant to send men in slow driving cars to watch you walk home. Not to protect you, not to make sure you’re okay. Just to make sure you’re faithful to him, or something. You stopped believing he was just overprotective when your friend, Rick went missing after you stayed over in his apartment once. Sykes never said anything about the incident, or Rick, but the next time you saw him after Rick’s body was found he had opened a particularly expensive bottle of win and convinced you to finish the whole thing with him.

And that wasn’t the only friend you believe Sykes to have killed, it’s just the only one you’re sure of. But no one really loses 5 friends in a year, do they? Not unless something sinister is going on.

Despite all that, though… you’ve stayed with him. Why?? You don’t know. All you know, is that you can’t leave. Every time you even think about it, your chest starts to constrict on you and for some reason all these different excuses start to pop into your head. Like how Sykes really can be lovely, to you. He still makes you feel special, like you’re the most important thing to him. And he loves you.

And… you love him.

That doesn’t mean you don’t want to leave, though. You’ve packed your things and gone to the airport so many times. Made plans with your parents to stay with them for a while until you find a new job, somewhere else, so many times. But every time your boarding number is called you can’t seem to get up out of your seat.

You always end up calling your parents to tell them you changed your mind on visiting, and then going to see Bill.

He always welcomes you with a sly grin and your favourite place in his lap, where he can hold onto you tight and you know you couldn’t escape him even if you really, truly tried. Not against his size and strength, never. Which is where you are now, resting your head on his wide chest and breathing in second-hand smoke. You’re both silent, just enjoying each other’s company and listening to just the sound of Bill’s pen scrawling across paper.

Your eyes slide slowly to the gun on his desk, the pistol he’s pressed into your forehead, your temple, and even pushed gently into your mouth before- all foreplay, he would say. But you recognise the look in his eyes from when he really has killed people. In front of you.

So you would know what he was capable of, probably.

Now though you give consideration to picking it up yourself this time, wondering what he might look like staring up the barrel over those glasses. Would he be scared? Would he stutter and beg? The idea sends a little thrill through you. Your fingers itch to reach out and grab it, to see for sure how he would look, but the comforting feeling of him breathing against you has you looking away from the gun again.

Instead you look up at his face, glasses perched just under his eyes and a cigar bitten down between his teeth as he focuses. You feel the familiar desire to press kisses to his neck, his face- and know you couldn’t shoot him. You love him.

It’s fucked up and you know this whole relationship was one huge giant mistake, one you absolutely regret, but you can’t help the way he makes you feel. Like you’re capable of killing someone- of killing him. Like you could do it, enjoy it, and move on. And you like that feeling.

“… you okay?” He asks shortly with the cigar still between his teeth, noticing your staring.

“… I’m good.” You quip back cutely, snuggling into his body again.

Bill then puts down his pen, and you get a cold feeling in your chest as he pulls the cigar down to rest in his hand against the edge of the desk. What does he know? What does he need to talk to you about? You know his cues, and this will be bad. “Y/N, I’m gonna ask you something- you’ll tell me the truth, right?” You don’t look at him, but you nod. “… Where were you before you came here tonight?”

Sucking in a deep breath, you close your eyes. “Don’t you know? You’ve got a tail on me most of the time- “

“… Y/N.” His voice is gentle and quiet, but the tone he uses is dangerous. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest, and you take another deep breath.

“I… was at the airport.” At this, you look up at him- needing his reaction. You see his nostrils flair buts that’s absolutely it. “I was going to leave you.” You add, for clarities sake.

While his fingers tap on the wood of his desk, making an actual sound for how heavy they are- how strong they are- Bill thinks. Finally, after a few torturous minutes in which you’re terrified and aroused at the same time, waiting for him to just do something about it - shoot you with that pistol and bring this whole damn thing down to its inevitable end, or tell you to get on the floor and let him destroy your throat, whatever, - he finally speaks again. “Why’d you come back?”

“I love you.” The words come out without hesitation, the electricity that Bill brings into your life lighting up inside you as you’re faced with his wrath. “I really do. I couldn’t leave you- not ever, Bill.”

At this his eyes actually soften, and your mouth nearly falls open with surprise- that’s how receptive you are to him, that’s what he’s done to you. You’re connected, now. His reactions create reactions in you, and you reactions make him feel things the man hasn’t experienced… maybe ever, in his terrible, scummy, sociopathic life.

He lets out a relieved breath and reaches a giant hand up to your neck, tucking his fingers in beneath your hair and brushing a thumb over your lips.

That’s that. He loves you, and you love him. The end.

2002! Captain Hook:

God, you want so badly to stop wanting this man! He’s mean, he’s ruthless, and never surprises you, except for when he loses his every-loving mind out of freaken nowhere.

But you can’t leave him.

Because of moments like this, when he’s so alive and electric that you feel alive and electric- the only times you feel those things in this hollow little world, Neverland. These are the only moments you have to live for, with the brim of Captain Hook’s hat scraping your forehead and your shoulder blades digging into the wall. With his namesake leading down the delicate skin of your throat and his mouth planting desperate, needy kisses on yours.

His good hand gathers up your skirts and catches them against your stomach so they’re out of the way before it goes right ahead and slips beneath your underwear, fingers slipping into you almost out of muscle memory. You rip your mouth away from his, turning your head with a hiss and he smirks; Leaning into the side of your head. “My dear… you’re resisting again~… “

“Well you’re foul- “You snap in explanation, trying to not let on how turned on you are by him - him and his voice, his whiskery face, the evil smirk on it, - but the leisurely pace at which he chooses to pump his fingers within you draws a whine out of you; Muffled only by you biting down onto your bottom lip.

“Oh really?~ You seem rather certain of that and yet… “There’s that hook, that terrible hook that’s done terrible things, dragging down your cheek at the same time as you feel his lips moving against your ear. He’s too close, he’s smothering you- and you’re enjoying it. “You allow me to befoul you like this, and you moan for me… Its rather confusing, my dear, and you know you can’t have everything you want so tell me; Do you want me, or would you like me to stop? Speak up, stop biting your lips- it’s not good form. “

As his fingers slow to an even more ridiculously slow pace, crawling against your walls even while you throb and need him, you shudder and shake your head. “- I hate you and I need you to continue.”

“Oh, that’s not going to do it my dear.” Now his lips are really on you, leaving warm kisses all over your neck, across your throat, and then up the other side of your neck.

“Ughhh… that’s the truth… ” You’re throbbing and needing so terribly that your hips actually give an involuntary buck towards him, and a gasp slips out of you.

“That was a lovely sound, why don’t you make it again for me?” Now he actually takes his fingers out of you, and instead just brushes his knuckles against the flesh of your mound and god- fuck- its awful. Its torture. You find yourself up on your tip toes just trying to get them back down where they were.

“Hook- “

“Do you have something to say?”

“No.”

“Then, my dear- I’m afraid we’re done here.”

With that Captain Hook breaks off rom your body entirely, taking his lips and his hook and his fingers with him- your skirts fall down to your feet once again and you feel cold in his absence. He gives a smirk at the dishevelled appearance he’s leaving you in, before turning around to leave his quarters-

But at the last second you catch him, wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. “I want you. I want you, I want you. Please, please ta- “

“Oh now dear,” Before you can finish your sentence, the man has got his hook against your lips with an ah, ah, ah sound. “There’s no need to give up all your dignity, yet. Piece by piece, will do.”

You’re a little rougher with him this time round than usual. You’re always a little rougher.

Mayor Buckman:

“No!” You cry, wriggling against the restraints that wicked man put you in; Ropes binding your arms behind you, your shoulders to the back of the chair and your thighs to the seat. "No, no- " And they’re tight, you can barely move under the strain, and you think your blood circulation must be cut off because you feel so cold. All around you are screaming Pleasant Valley folk, chanting for him to do it.

Kill him, slice him up, create a corpse and leave it out for days while you watch.

Hurt him, torture him, skin him alive strip by strip.

Stab him, spit on him, rub dirt into his wounds.

"No! St- Stop! ... Please... " You scream until your throat's sore, but all it does is spur them on- they get so loud you cant even hear yourself and you ears ring and eventually you're just sitting there, aching and exhausted, watching Buckman kill the man you love.

God- you didn't know, is what you keep thinking. You didn't know, you didn't know! You didn't know Buckman was this way, this utterly insane. So absolutely crazy, that he would do this when you found someone else! If you had known you never would have-

A gasp catches in your throat when Buckman drops the head into your lap- you hadn't even realised it was over, or he was approaching. Now the head bleeds out onto your dress and the ropes, a mangled mess of what used to be a person you thought you could finally be happy again with, and Buckman hangs over you with a dirty, cruel grin on his face.

You refuse to look at him, turning your face, damp with tears and grubby from dust kicked up by the mob around you... going quiet now. So quiet that you can hear the blood pumping inside your ears.

"... there. Now Y/N- darlin'?" He gets a handful of your hair and drags your head back so you have to look at him. "I'm sorry I had to do that, darlin', but it had to be done- how am I supposed to trust you again with that old ratbag hanging around, huh?"

You don't say a thing in response to that, preoccupied fighting a battle inside- because the moment he touched you, this foul, wicked, loathsome, evil person- you felt those same butterflies you always felt when he would pay attention to you... before all of this.

How?... How could you feel like this?? After everything he just did-

Warily, you look at him now; Teeth grit and a weak glare in your eyes. "Wh... why?" Your voice is cracked, quiet and frail from all the screaming before and the dirt caught in your lungs. "George we... George we were over... Before anything... happened... with- "

"Don't say his name~ " Buckman says quickly, giving you a stern look to which you close your eyes a moment and turn turn your head. The rest of the mob still surround you, watching the two of you like starved wolves, so you look back to him. "Your voice must be killin' you." Is all he adds to that, grinning in an awfully pleased sort of way about it.

"George- " Answer, please!

"Sweetheart- of course I had to kill your little beau." He sighs dramatically, looking up to the heavens for a moment as if they would have anything to do with him. "Dontcha know? I'm in love with ya, Y/N. And you love me- that little asshole back there was just unpleasant detour in our relationship!"

"You're... crazy." You spit, despite those butterflies persisting- every time that he looks at you.

"Oh sweetheart... I for sure am." Now he lets go of your hair, letting it fall and your scalp relax again as he kneels down in front of you. "Which I why I'm thinkin' you wont be pulling this shit again. I'm all you need and you know that now, because if you do try it again... " One blue eye slides down to the head in your lap- the blood and the stink, you're sure, moulding itself into your legs at this point. "Well," He chuckles. "You get it, yes?"

"I- I... " For the last time, you think to argue, to fight- but some reason you cant do it. And its not because you're tired, or beaten, or weak.

Its because at some level you know that if you really truly prove to Buckman that you don't love him back, that you want nothing to do with him, then he really will be done with you and that feeling... stops you. You don't know why, you don't understand it as you stare at him, but you just know that you don't want to lose him. You cant.

You should, you should want to. You know that. But, god, now you cant help wondering if the man whose head in your lap died not because you loved him... but because you needed a good reason to leave Buckman.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god. Save me. Save me save me save me-

Finally, you bow your head; Totally defeated by your own twisted feelings. "... yes."

Making a little, victorious hm, Buckman reaches up and curls a hand around the back of your neck and presses his forehead to yours. "... that's my sweetheart... "

Scar:

Every time you go over there to his secluded little cave, you think this is the last time. You're going to say goodbye to this loser and clear your conscience.

But then Scar greets you, rubbing up against your side and licking a kiss across the side of your face while intertwining his tail with yours and your mind goes totally blank. What were you doing? You had something to say...

"How are you today, pumpkin? This way... " He leads you to a cool, dark corner of his cave and the two of you cuddle into each other; Him resting his chin on your head.

"Same old, same old, Scar... " You yawn, ready to slip into your regular nap with him as he does the same- when suddenly your thoughts come crasing back to you from before and you gasp. Wrenching yourself away from his body, you get up and back away. "Actually!- "

"What?" Scar looks totally unamused, having been ready to sleep. "Cant whatever this is wait? I am rather sleepy- "

"No- I- Scar, I think we need to stop doing this."

... Slowly, he raises his brows. Like, oh... Deliberately he pushes up off the ground and stalks around your back. "Stop what?" He asks dangerously when he appears close at your side, causing you to flinch and look away from him- those eyes, are dangerous. "We just rest together, my dear!..." There's such unadulterated innocence in the way he says that, because its true, but... you and he both know there's more to it then that. There's a connection. A connection you should not have.

Not with him.

"Then you wouldn't mind my leaving," Taking a turn, you go to leave right away, while you can bring yourself to do it, but Scar pounces in front of you and you're stuck inside those eyes venomous green eyes. You part your lips to speak, but you're too slow- its like he's hypnotising you.

"Y/N... I never sleep as well alone as I do with you... I thought you enjoyed our naps?"

You do! "I do, but... the, uh, the others are starting to wonder where I am during the day... "

Scar gives a shrug, aloof and unsympathetic. "So tell them. Its not as if we're doing anything particularly scandalous, my dear. Though, we could- "

Snapping your eyes closed against him, you turn your head away and take a deep breath. "No, its just... we cant- ... you're not- ... Ugh, I just have to go!- " When you attempt once again to swerve around him, Scar places his paw over one of yours and steps in closer to you- your noses just about touching.

There are his eyes again, half hooded and cheeky. You recoil from him but he just leans his further, before licking another sloppy kiss to your cheek and rounding you again; You feel his eyes on you all the way around and try not to flinch. Don't let him know you have such a reaction to him. He heaves a great sigh behind you, before setting down in front of you again. "... I know, I'm not big brothers favourite person, am I? Hence why I live out... here... " After giving the dank little cave he lives inside a grimace, Scar quickly regains his pleasant, care free persona and grins; Offering a quippy little shrug. "Oh well. That shouldn't affect us, should it? Not unless you're a very shallow person, Y/N... after all I never did anything to you, did I? You really mustn't judge a person because of what other people may say, dear."

"I- I know that! But you- "

"What?" His eyes go wide, and innocent again- just waiting for your big excuse. "What have I done that was truly so terrible?"

"... " Your mind's blank. Oh, fuck. Of all times!- "Everyone says that you're bad news, Scar. That has to be for a reason."

"Pah,' He rolls his eyes and looks away from you; Totally unimpressed. "Shallow."

Gasping, you shake your head in defence. "I'm not!- " Suddenly Scar lunges, then, pushing you back so that you're on the ground and he's on top of you. Your jaw drops once again. "Hey!"

"... Prove it."

"Excuse me?"

"Prove it, my dear... You say that you're not shallow." A crooked smirk slides over his sharp teeth... before he leans down and nuzzles your nose. "So,...prove it."

Your heart is pumping absolutely wildly inside your chest- the familiar feeling of Scar's body against yours in a completely different way then your used to, those terrifying eyes drilling holes into yours, that devilish smirk doing sinful things to your insides...

God, this male sucks.

"Fine."

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You’re with, and are in love with (Villain A), but for a long time now you’ve noticed that they way they treat you… isn’t up to scratch. And now this other guy, (Villain B) comes along and you feel loved and beautiful and competent all the time, with them. It’s a choice between someone who makes you believe that without a doubt soulmate are real and this person is yours, and the one that makes you feel really, really good. You give (Villain A) a choice.

Includes: Drayton Sawyer / Mayor Buckman (Horror Villains), Eric / Peter Hayes (Misc), Nina The Killer / Candy Pop (Creepypasta), Riddler and Edward Nygma / Barbara Kean (Gotham), and Human!Scar / Human!Shere Kahn (Disney Villains).

Warnings: Toxic or unhappy relationships, BLOOD (Nina and Candy Pop’s part- only a little but still), swearing, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE (Riddler.)

Notes:

Inspired by ‘According To You’ by Orianthi. You can also listen to the Elise Lieberth version if you’re gonna!! It’s a lot more soulful and matter o’ fact, rather than mad and desperate. Both are soooo good, though.

Quick directory: If you’re looking for anger, I will send you to the Riddler and Eric and if you’re looking for sad I will show you two Drayton and Nina and if you want a happy ending, go to Scar! 

This is in your POV

~~~

Drayton Sawyer (Villain A) and Mayor Buckman (Villain B)

According to you I'm stupid I'm useless I can't do anything right

“Drayton!” Get back here, you basta-

“I’m too busy for this talk, girl / boy / kid!” He cuts off my thoughts with that dreaded phrase, that I hate hearing come from him and waves his arms dismissively without even turning to look at me. That phrase. That awful, familiar phrase. ‘I’m too busy for this talk’. Jesus Christ, it hits a nerve. He’s always too busy! “And so’re you! Grab the other end a’ this hay bale for me. We’re movin’ it on to the truck- Nubbins thinks I can get some money off ’em from passin’ famers. Better then having ‘em sit here and get eatin’ by Bubba.”

Gaining courage from my frustration, I march over there and slam my foot firmly down on the bale of hay. Drayton looks up from the side he was gearing to pick up and scrunches his face up in his own frustration. “What the hell are you doing? Get your lazy ass foot off this bale!”

“We have to talk, Drayton.”

“About what?!”

Has he already- Forgotten- What I-

I was just talking to him about it!!

“Oh my god Drayton, how self-absorbed can you be?? I was just talking to you about it!”

I feel stupid for feeling guilty for what’s going on, now. I suddenly remember what drove me to this situation- he doesn’t care one lick about me!

“Uhh… “He has the good manners to look ashamed for a moment, voice hesitating as he tries to remember something he knows just isn’t there in his head at all. “My bad.”

“Yes, your bad!”

He sighs in frustration, standing up straight and setting his hands on his hips with an annoyed vigour. He raises his eyebrows, as if to say ‘I’m waiting??’ and I control the urge to growl at him. This is not the way I wanted it to come out, and if he was even a little less infuriating, I would check myself and calm down- but he isn’t a little less infuriating and I want to throw this bale of hay at his scrawny ass.

“Well what’s goin’ on, girl / boy / kid?”

Ohhh, fucking Christ I hate it when he calls me that. Like I’m a child. This may fly with your brothers, Drayton, but we’re the same age! Goddamnit.

Mirroring his actions by putting my hands on my hips in an exaggerated way and raising my eyebrows back at him, I blurt it out firmly. Leaving zero room for him to possibly hear me wrong. “I’m having an affair.”

A moment of silence passes, and of course, now is when I immediately start to feel all the emotions that anger just a moment ago was blocking out. Regret, guilt, heartbreak… I take my foot off the hay back to the firm ground and my eyes well up with tears from the sheer force of the feelings. Drayton’s hands slip off his hips.

“… that Mayor?”

I’m surprised for a moment that Drayton knows. He could pick up on who it must be, which means he was noticing me. Its sort of good, to feel that he actually paid attention to me that one time, when we met... Buckman… but it isn’t enough to make up for the past decade. Looking away from him, I breathe and mess with my hair a bit simply for something to do with my hands. “… yeah.”

Dumbly, he tilts his head slightly to the side. His voice even stutters, which is so not Drayton. “… why?”

I hate myself for hurting him.

Looking back him, some tears break free down my cheeks. “Because! I forgot what it felt like to be liked. It… took me by surprise.”

“Maybe we should have a, ah, a sit down, then. Lets, lets go then. While the boy’s are out. To the kitchen, yeah. Come on, girl / boy / kid.”

He turns around as he says it, plus a lot more that isn’t important is just his ramblings as we walk off, but I wince from the name he gave me again.

Eric (Villain A) and Peter Hayes (Villain B)

According to you I'm difficult Hard to please Forever changing my mind I'm a mess in a dress Can't show up on time Even if it would save my life

The cruel grin on Eric’s face as he stands over me, doesn’t scare me. It just reminds me of how hurt he is. It’s true, I haven’t done anything… but now he knows what I’ve been thinking. About Peter, of all people, and probably more importantly what I’ve been thinking about him; Eric. “He’s not much better than me, you know.”

Grimacing, I fiddle more nervously with my hands that are in my lap and look down the barren hallway that I was able to corner him alone in. That’s very true. “I know that. That’s not the point.” When I look up, he’s scowling at me.

“Then what is the point?” He sounds mad. Like, bull mad. But I don’t waver, because under this shame- I’m pretty damn mad, too. I feel like my eyes flash at him not understanding the situation after I already, explicitly, explained to him what was wrong with our relationship two seconds ago. But its like all he heard was that I thought another man, Peter, a boy my age and not my instructor, was making me feel better than he was and he ignored everything else. If I wasn’t so pissed, I would understand. Jealousy is a serious emotion. I get that.

But he isn’t jealous.

Eric is possessive. Which is only one of our problems.

“The point is that I love you. I want, you.” It’s so true. Every word. I want Eric. I want him! Goddamnit, if I could genetically engineer a man who looks, acts and thinks like Eric, but with Peter’s attention span then I fucking would do so in heartbeat. “But you treat me like I’m just this small part of your life, like a hobby you can pick up and put down any time you like! And, god, you insult me! You disrespect me. I know you’re overworked and hormonal, but I don’t know how much longer I can wait it out before it isn’t a phase anymore!”

His goddamn nostrils flare, this time. “So you want to break up?”

Oh my god. My heart leaps up into my throat and, instantly, the word ‘No’ leaps right out of my chest, clear as day. “God, no. I don’t want to break up! I want to work through this together. I just want one thing in these negotiations Eric, and that’s to be liked by you.”

He breathes out slowly through his nose, and watch his shoulders and chest slowly drop. His eyes focus on the ceiling. “Y/N, you know I love you- “I get up from my seat abruptly and square up to him.

“Yes I know that! But that isn’t the same thing as being liked!” I am begging him. I am pleading that he understands, and we can be happy again.

… Because if he doesn’t, I have to do what’s best for me.

And as far as I can see, that is Peter. Or being alone! But honestly, the Peter option is looking better and better every second. Peter is an evil little shit, and violent, and deeply messed up, but he treats me well. He would never hurt me- emotionally or physically. And damn, I like spending time with him! And I really, really want that.

With Eric, if I can.

But all I’m seeing in this conversation is that option getting smaller and smaller.

For a good few minutes, he just stands there. First, he was breathing heavily… but now he’s just thinking. I watch with round eyes, and wait patiently. What’s happening? What are you thinking? Please, Eric.

Finally, he reaches over and squeezes more arm for a moment. It’s a comforting gesture, but when I look into those blue eyes of his, all I see is empty. He’s leaving. “We’ll talk about this later, k? I’ve got shit to do, now.”

For me, when he walked away, that was the end of everything right there. The last straw. I feel empty, too.

Nina The Killer (Villain A) and Candy Pop (Villain B)

According to you, according to you But according to him I'm beautiful Incredible He can't get me out of his head

“NINA!” I cut off her screaming with my own, nearly damn well shredding my vocal cords to cut through. But I succeed, and she’s now just glaring at me, twisting the tip of her knife into the tip of her finger. At first it wasn’t affecting her, just a nervous habit, but now theirs blood and I wince. Moving forward, I gently remove the knife from her hands, put it away in my hoodie pocket and carefully take her hands in mine, instead. Then I look back up at her, and look firm. “You’re just distracting us both. Don’t you wanna work through this with me?”

Through grit teeth, barely moving her face, she tells me. “I feel betrayed, Y/N.”

A rush of guilt for hurting her floods me -my stomach, my heart, - and I feel physically nauseous. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“Are you really gonna listen to me?” I counter, causing her to flinch at the very thought of hearing me out. She looks away, but doesn’t remove her hands from mine and after a moment, sighs in utter defeat and frustration and nods fine. “Okay… um.” I hadn’t really thought about explaining what’s going on, to her. Being with a Creepypasta like her, who’s been traumatised and emotionally wrecked, you learn to keep your problems to yourself in fear they’ll relapse and hurt you. It’s not a fair or decent relationship in the slightest, I know, but it’s what we have. It’s what I’ve been perfectly happy with for years now. It’s what we’re fighting for.

So… I guess… I don’t have much of a choice, now. Taking a shaky breath in, I start and hope I don’t get murdered. “I feel like… you hate me.” She freezes under my touch but I don’t look up to see her face. “Like Jeff will always be more important than me, to you. He’s the one you want, he’s the one you have the connection to... and I understood that at first. I could take it… but- but the longer we stayed together I realised I always thought you would become more accustomed to me; That you would want me. But you don’t. Its always him-“ She tries to wrench her hands from me, but I clamp my grip down hard on her and drag her back, looking up into her face with a determined, probably pretty pissed off look on my face. “Nina. Still talking, here.”

“Its… its not true!” She doesn’t look so sure, her own determined-pissed off look dissolving into nervousness, chewing on her bottom lip.

“It is.” That look is all the admission there needs to be. Theirs no more supposing about it- Jeff will always be a step ahead of me. That Michael Jackson looking bastard. “And if I‘m going to be with someone, then I want to be number one. And, i-if you can’t… “I chew on my cheek to force myself not to cry. “Nina, Pop does want me like that.”  

I want to show her through my eyes, how serious this is. My desperation for her to just step up for me, and my stubborn desire to be wanted like he wants me.

God, I thought this conversation might help- but I don’t feel like stopping what’s between Pop and I now, ever.

I think its over with me and Nina, as she looks innocent and wide eyed and lost and… heartbroken.

It is the end, then.

She detangles her hands finally from mine, and cups my face in thin, freezing cold, shaky hands. “I wish… “I gather her middle against my body, in between my arms and bury my face in her neck, tears running freely down my face now. “Oh god, I wish.”

I wish we’d met before all that with Jeff. It definitely would’ve been us.

Me too.

Riddler and Edward Nygma (Villain/s A) and Barbara Kean (Villain B)

She's into me for everything I'm not According to you I need to feel appreciated Like I'm not hated, oh no Why can't you see me through her eyes? It's too bad you're making me decide

My back hits the wall a little too hard, causing my head to knock back into it and my vision to go blurry as he speaks his ironically phrased ‘peace’, so all I see is a very deep scowl and green. I’m pared from his crooked teeth and the dark, hateful way his eyes will be zeroed in on me. “How could you do this to me?? I allowed Ed to keep you, I- “He makes a constipated face as my vision clears up, his fingers digging deeply into my hips. I wriggle and twitch slightly, and try to quietly pull them out of my skin, but they are not moving, and I don’t even think he feels me struggling. So I give up, focusing instead on just regaining my vision. “I STARTED TO LOVE YOU TOO!”

Rolling my head against the wall in boredom, like a student waiting for that bell, and I don’t even flinch when he screams in my face at this point, although I do admit; It of course isn't pleasant. “Ugh, Ed, your breath stinks- “

“I AM NOT ED!”

“Okay, Riddler, your breath stinks.” Same-Same, for me. 

“Treat this seriously- you’ve betrayed me.” He is so mad. No matter how vehemently this guy tries to tell people he isn’t Ed- he sure is controlled by his emotions like Ed. He wouldn’t be this mad if he wasn’t heartbroken. Fucker was born from emotions.

Well guess what Riddler? I’m heartbroken too. And you put me here.

He scrapes his fingers against my skin, and I just grin wider.

There is nothing quite like annoying this man- especially when he’s treating me with such little respect. My eyes flash up to his and I grit my teeth. “I thought you were smart, man. I don’t love you the way I loved Ed- the way I now love her. Mistake number 1. You shouldn’t have ever let yourself fall as deep as you have, here.”

“But you do love me?!” He’s desperate and trying to reassure himself, and at the same time remind me of that fact. And oh god, I know. I know that I love him. Despite his many, maaany faults, I love him. He is what’s left over from Ed, my first love, who’s a whole lifetime away from me now. I’m attached to him, the Riddler, whether I like it or not!

And I don’t like it.

That’s why I’m leaving.

“Mistake number 2. You couldn’t just check yourself- because you’re so perfect, right? You couldn’t just look at how you were treating me and work on it? If you had, we wouldn’t be here right now. I wanted you… but you can’t see me the same way Barbara does.  

I wrap my fingers around the object in my pocket, feelings its need. It’s about fifteen centimetres long, and black, with little nibs at the end designed to leave a nasty lasting impact.

He’s looking at me, waiting for what else he did wrong. Always a learner, and a sucker for pain. “Mistake three- the Hamartia. You then gave me a choice, between you and Barbara. You should’ve known I would never pick you. I love you, yes.” For a second my voice is soft, and I let go of the weapon to reach up and cup his, and more importantly Ed’s, beautiful face. My grip becomes slightly tighter after a second. “But I love her, too. The difference is just that she sees me and sees someone beautiful. You see a possession. I.e. you think it’s a given that I’ll be with you.”

His eyes go cold, and even darker. His mad, laughing smirk makes its appearance, and I move one hand back into my pocket. “What makes you think I’ll even let you leave?”

“I didn’t think that.” I admit, watching for his reaction. As soon as his smile broadens like the sad, mistaken gremlin that he is, I pull out the taser and push the button, pressing the needles into the Riddler’s neck.

He immediately loosens up everything, and flings back awkwardly to the floor. 

“I’m so done with you. You took Ed from me.” My voice wobbles and I cover my mouth, pressing my lips tightly to each other for a moment to pull myself together. Then I glance back down at the Riddler’s twitching body one final time. “And don’t think for one second that you’ll just come pick me up later; I’m going to Oz’s.”

Human!Scar (Villain A) and Human!Shere Kahn (Villain B)

But according to me You're stupid You're useless You can't do anything right

We spent all day fighting, and now I’m just… tired. And sad. I’m so tired, of pleading with him to like me. Always doing more, for him. Making his favourite meals, smiling when he tells unfunny jokes, agreeing ‘to an extent’ -a bare faced lie, - with the shit he spouts… Today, an actual fight about how I feel, was just the crux of this mess that I’ve been hoping was a relationship for so long. But it isn’t a relationship; Not a proper one.

If it was, I wouldn’t be killing myself trying to be happy.

So I’m leaving, officially.

I give Scar one more cuddle, burying my head in his chest for a good minute, begging myself to be strong and let go, then slip out of the bed and collect my suit case. I packed this while he was cooking dinner earlier, and hid under the bed. Of course, I’ll have to come back and get the rest of my stuff… but Kahn say’s he’ll help me.

Even still in this room, where Scar’s and my relationship turned from beautiful to a monster, the thought of Kahn makes me smile- I can’t help it. Just the mention of him in my head, and then his face comes to mind -Smirking at me, about to tickle me and I know it,- and the corners of my mouth perk upwards and my teeth show. It feels really, really good and I can’t wait to see him.

Taking a deep breath, I leave the room and the apartment all together. There is a slight nauseous feeling in my stomach from doing so, but I push on and the further I get to the exit, the freer I feel. 

Finally, I twist front door open and take a deep breath through my nose, feeling one last moment of longing to go back, but knowing I wont. I cant. It’s violet walls that Scar and I painted together when we first moved in, that now give me headache... And its white wood theme, that was supposed to brighten up the place when he used to leave me alone a lot at home... and the knitted coasters I spent time choosing and making to avoid hanging out with him… I leave it all, closing the door behind me. 

Thinking about all that makes me want to cry, but I’ve already cried to much about all of this- it would feel like overkill.

Besides, I need to focus a little more on not smiling, which would be in such bad taste, when I see Kahn waiting for me outside. I tilt my head to the side. “No car?”

“Nope, we’re walking darling. I thought it might be better for you tonight.”

I take a deep breath of the fresh air while Kahn takes my hand in his. It feels good. “Yeah, you might be right… That sounds good.“

[slashingdisneypasta]

Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbian!Reader || Drabble

Plot: I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so here it is. Just some petty bickering between you and your lover’s beard. This is what happens when a gay woman’s bisexual lover marries a straight man. There is also, of course, feelings.

Warnings: Eh, bickering. Boone does not mind seeing you and Buckman fight at all- in fact, she watches it happen. So, she’s mildly abusive.

I was fine with the men Who would come into her life now and again I was fine, 'cause I knew That they didn't really matter until you I was fine when you came And we fought like it was all some silly game Over her, who she'd choose

(Lyrics from ‘It’s Over, Isn’t It?’ From Steven Universe)

~~~

Knock knock knock!

“Aghhhh… “The primal, frustrated groan escapes you before you can restrain yourself. You both pull back at the same time, whether because you really both felt you needed to or because you knew she would and refused to endure that embarrassment of seeing her run off to him again you would never admit. You close your eyes, letting your hands fall from her soft hair to your lap, defeated for the time being. “At least he’s learnt howta’ knock… “

“That’s right.” Boone grins, eyebrows furrowing in a look caught between amusement and empathy, especially when I open my eyes and pout up at her. Her hands find your upper arms, near shoulders and holds your comfortingly. “There’s that. Wait right here, I’ll just see what he wants- it is his home.”

You take such a deep breath that your shoulders raise, and then fall dramatically as you sigh it out. “Okay… “With one final comforting squeeze to your shoulder, Boone gets up and rounds the corner from the living room to the front door. You amuse yourself with picking up your tea and dragging it to your lips as you hear the door open and quiet voices.

Like a secret. Like an inside conversation between them.

Her, and him.

Rolling your eyes and your shoulders simultaneously, trying to shake off the jealousy, you try to enjoy the feeling of steam on your face and the smell of the tea. It is nice. You brought it over from the town to the west when you went to visit and attend a ball.  Its jasmine and apricot and, honestly, you bought it for the packaging on its own. A beautiful deep purple and marmalade coloured box with intricate gold designs around the label. You had felt a bit magical just buying it, actually.

As you take a sip, the conversation at the door stops and instead footfalls replace the noise- footfalls that are definitely not your lover’s. Too heavy.

You hurriedly put down the cup and the saucer back on the table because you don’t trust your suddenly icy fingers not to shake too hard and spill the drink just in time for George to stick his head around the corner and greet you. For some reason, despite him being the second, the intruder in this relationship, the whole thing between you and Boone still feels clandestine. He knows all about it, he knows his role as her ‘beard’- yet you still feel like the outsider. The other lover.

It’s not a nice feeling.

“Afternoon, Y/N. Sorry to interrupt your lil girl’s night, hope ya’ll are havin’ fun! - I just forgot my hanky. I won’t be a moment.” Oh my God, he’s so patronising. ‘Girls night’?! It’s a date, you son of a bitch! He flashes a fake smile; A politician’s smile, before popping off up the stairs to search for it.

And, hanky??? I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous or translucent. You were headed to the bar for the night, sir. You couldn’t have used a napkin for your sniffles!?

You raise the tea back to your lips, throwing your head with elegance instead of pushing back the hair. “Of course, sir… “

“I just new you would understand!” He calls back, ruffling through some draws in the room above you. Boone, looking apologetic - but, still. Half amused. Half happy. Because he’s here, - sinks back down into the couch beside you, knees touching yours. That does calm you a bit- those small bits of affection always do. The small things always still feel rebellious, even now.

“Hm, really.” You ask sarcastically, raising your eyebrows at Boone but responding to her George. She grins and shakes her head, always liking it when you’re cheeky. Finishing another sip of your tea, you set it back down again as George comes back down the stairs, pocketing a particularly gaudy napkin with G.W.B stitched into it in thick lettering.

Then, to your horror, he looks between the door and the room you and Boone are sitting in and decides to come and seat himself down on the couch across from the two of you. Boone quickly, immediately puts a hand in both of yours, in your lap and you hold onto it like your life depends on it.

Or, like Georges life depends on it- which it very much might right now.

This man just loves to toe the line with me, doesn’t he… You think, glaring daggers at him. He’s so cheery, like he really doesn’t see much wrong with interrupting like this. Like he’s just being ‘cheeky’.

Oh noooo, no, no. He’s mistaken. He’s waging war.

“So, how have you been Y/N? Boones told me you went to a Ball in neighbouring Greenvill. How was that?”

Sarcastically, I quip back. “Oh, Greenvill was fine. Grapes are good this time of year- “Immediately I snap out of my restrained silence and lean forward, pointing a finger at him. “No, no, no. Don’t do this to me. We are not going to do this. No. Walk your britches out that door right this moment!” Boone squeezes your hand and pats it, watching your and her husbands now darkening glares at each other with a cruel entertainment.

“Oh, I’m just bein’ polite, dear. Do we have a problem?”

“Yes!” Absolutely!

“Well you can talk to your community representative about that! - Oh, wait.” He makes a show of putting his finger to his chin and looking as if he has just remembered something. “That’s me, isn’t it??”

“You know very well what this day is- mine. My day. What can I do to make you leave? Do you take bribes?”

“Now sweetheart, you and I both know there ain’t nothing you can give me that I can’t get myself.”

Oh, you are going to launch off this seat and dump the tea over his smug, patronising, misogynistic head. “Oh, well, what about threats, then??”

“If you can dish it out then I hope you can take it, too, Y/N.”

Seeing the line, the unspoken line that we never cross coming fast like a steam train, you pull back. Straightening your back and taking a deep breath through your nose, you calm down. He does the same, glancing up and muttering something to God, and Boone just looks from you looking silently at your knees and fuming, to her husband rubbing his hands together and looking down at the floor; And she smiles. An evil twinkle in her eye that neither you nor Buckman catch.

“Okay, Bucky, I’ll see you later? Y/N’s right, we were havin’ a date, and its not over yet.” Boone winks conspiratorially to him and you roll your shoulders back in discomfort- so does he. Her thumb rubs gently over your knuckles, and you let out all the breath you were holding in in an attempt to be quiet and calm. “That was my polite way of askin’ for you to leave, in case you didn’t catch it.” She jokes, with a hint of seriousness- because she really was hinting for him to leave. But she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

Its like the tenseness of the room doesn’t even touch her.

“… “Georges glance at either o you in turn is dark, tired, before he gets up and straightens his back again after leaning on his knees for too long. “Course. Have a good evening, you two. Uh, “You can tell he’s struggling to think of a polite goodbye as he slowly moves out of the room, and you make yourself watch for a moment. Out of respect. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like him. There’s too much love and hope for the same woman between us for us to ever have a non-confrontational conversation as things are they this way, but we’ve both been in this horrible situation that he’s enduring right now, too many times. When you have to leave her, Boone, to be with the other. Like you’re the outsider. And I can sympathise with him… sort of… for that. “The tea smells lovely.”

Then, he leaves- but not before flashing you a look, and you share a moment. One teensy tiny moment without hostility.

A sharing of the wish that neither of you had to do that walk.

Then the man’s gone and Boone lets go of my hand, bunching her fists in your skirts to get your attention back which you gladly give with an - at first, - empty smile. “Now, where were we? Ah, I think we were just… about… here.” Our lips connect, and I forget all about what I was just thinking about.

Here. Always here.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains Drabble #1

Plot: The Horror Villain in your lives S/O(Who you were also very close to) has just died, and you’re there to watch them crumple. 

Includes: Jason Voorhees, Mayor Buckman and Sheriff Hoyt 

Warnings: Angst 

Hah, I think these just get shorter and shorter, which is funny because this is not the order I wrote them in. 

~~~

Jason Voorhees:

Today, I’m going to visit Jason. Who I guess a normal person would my… brother-in-law? Stepbrother-in-law, because his girl was my stepsister. Not that that matters now, she died in a car crash 3 weeks ago. Which is why I’m checking on him, bearing a new tablecloth to lighten up his creepy little cabin and ginger ale. She said once that he liked that stuff, and the tablecloth was my idea. I didn’t know what else to bring him in this situation, since I only met him once! But I thought I should, bring something.

The time I met him was because she wanted someone to know about him, that she trusts. In case something bad happened. Which, evidently, it did. How she knew it would happen? Well, there’s an ongoing news segment dedicated to the investigation they distastefully opened the day of her funeral, when the coroner that checked her out mentioned a gang tattoo hidden on the top of her thigh. Jason doesn’t need to know that part though.

From what I gathered about him when she introduced us and I stuck around with them the day we met and what I remind myself of quickly in my head as I leave the Ford Fiesta I got for my 18th birthday 3 years ago, is that mostly he’s a delicate soul. At least, when it has to do with her, or his mother. Her name’s Pamela, but I hope that doesn’t come up because their relationship scares me and I don’t want much to do with it. I especially don’t want to bring her up to him. 

I start walking towards his cabin, recalling other things about him I could mention or just that I should remember. His favourite colour’s green, like oak leaves and definitely not moss. He drowned because some councillors who were supposed to be watching him were getting jiggy with it in the forest, and because of that he has an ingrained hatred and need to eradicate all premarital sex havers.

Pft, that’ll be fine then. My lame ass is still a virgin. Not that I’m bitter about it or that I’m going to mention that, at all.

Finally, I reach the Voorhees’ cabin, which is clearly what is seeing as I can smell the stench of Mum’s rotted head wafting from inside that still haunts my dreams from last time. I put down the bag with his new, green tablecloth, ginger ale and my Christmas cookies -because I need them to get eaten and its been a month and they’re still sitting in my cupboard, and this seemed like a good a time as any. Maybe Jason’ll appreciate the patters I painstakingly iced on them. He supposedly has the brain of a child,- on the ground and stan dup straighter, biting the inside of my lips.  

Taking a cautious step forward, wondering whether I should knock even though the door’s open, I call carefully. “Jason? Hey, it’s Y/N. (Your Stepsisters Name)’s, sister? We met, and I just wanted to check on you. She asked me to.”

When in doubt, make sure he knows who I am and my connection to her. She’s his soft spot.

No answer.

I shuffle to the side, seeing if I can get a glimpse inside the house and see if he’s actually in there, without overstepping and walking on in. “I brought ginger ale- “

Suddenly heavy footsteps come up behind me and stop close by. I whip around, and suddenly I feel like a fly in comparison to the giant that is Jason Voorhees. I soften my expression and pick up the bag, offering it to him. “Did you hear all that?”

He nods.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

Again, he nods. I let my muscles relax, and go to sit down on the moulding, termite ravished porch. Before I start taking things out of the bag, I peer up at him, and make sure this is okay. “Is it okay that I sit here? I’ll get up if its not, its okay.”

No nod this time, I guess he got tired of it which is understandable- I would too if that was my only mode of communication. Instead, he walks over, movement weirdly purposeful, and sits down beside me. The wood moves worryingly under his weight, but stays sturdy thank god.

I flash him a kind smile, and start showing him what’s in the bag. Once I’m finished, I decide to cut straight to the chase, because he is not responding to any of this. Not even the snowman cookie awakened a reaction, and that one is freaken masterful. I turn to him, as he holds gently onto the ginger ale between his knees but doesn’t open it, and drop my forearms onto my knees. “So, Jason. Sweetheart, you gotta tell me o-or… Morse code to me, or whatever if you’re okay or not. Because that’s what I’m here for. For her, and therefore you are too. You get me?” I peer up at him, hoping he understands. Because I’m already getting emotional, and I don’t want to start crying again. I will, if we have to go through this painstakingly slowly.

Again, he doesn’t nod. But he does turn his head to look ahead of him and away from me, which I take as him understanding, but avoiding the conversation.

But hey! At least he isn’t walking off or stabbing me. Swallowing, and taking a deep breath, because we have to do this and theirs a tiny part of me that wants to for him and not for her, although the brunt of it is for her, I carry my pointer finger up and ever so gently pat the bottom of his mask. He turns slightly to look at me, and I look softly, empathetically at him. “I, for one, feel terrible.”

His shoulders relax the tiniest bit, so I go on. “I-I mean… I didn’t know her my whole life. Our parents got married when she was already 12. But I was 8, and she was my big sister after that. And, she was… the better one of us! Its true! I mean, you fell for her! And, from what I can tell you have trust issues. Rightly so, but still. She broke through that because she was so good. I can’t… “I let out a heavy breath, but not looking away because I’m brave. “Help, but think that… it should’ve been me, and not her. Okay?” Ohhh god. That sure doesn’t become easier the more times you say it… More a moment, I allow myself to pause. Worry my lip, look away. Then I push back my hair behind my ears and look back at hum, refreshed. Surprising me, when I look back, he’s looking at me. I whisper. “Is that how you feel?”

A moment of meaning passes, before slowly he nods. A more meaningful significant, and consequential then the other nods -other movements, -, simply because its slower. It feels like he’s seriously agreeing with me, like he’s saying ‘Yes, yes. That’s how I feel, I agree. You aren’t alone’.

Its honestly the most understood that I’ve felt since she died. Even her mother wouldn’t look up from the funeral pamphlet and I haven’t seen her since. But Jason, feels like me. Just another flavour, and another face.

Taking a deep breath, with tears filling my eyes now, I nod and take his hand. “Yeah… yeah. I’m sorry about that.”

“One day it’ll get better.”

Mayor Buckman:

I cross my arms and lean back on the house, watching the townspeople as the go about their day. One in particular, troubles me who I don’t let up my disappointed gaze on for minutes, as he bobs through town with an obnoxious smile on his face. All week, I’ve watched Buckman to make sure he’s okay after the funeral, and he’s failed every single test.

She entrusted me with his wellbeing and health, and I’m going to take it seriously. Because, although I don’t have as high a appreciation for his existence as she did due to him… well, trying to kill me and feed me to his crazy people, I acknowledge how he changed, for her. While she was here, the death toll in Pleasant Valley went down to all time low from the last century. Because, he had something to continue for, I guess.

But now he’s desperate to go, and although that makes sense, and I can accept it, even if it meant my last connection to her would be lost, he’s going too fast. He hasn’t even given himself time to mourn. She died, and he’s acting like she just left and he’s going to be seeing her real soon. Which, of course, may be true… But she died. Its going to tear him apart if he doesn’t sit down a second and stop grinning so crazy wide.

It’s a bit scary, actually. How full on he is right now.

As a couple new victims -teenagers, on spring break. Nothing new, - who’ve agreed to stay the night go to the room’s they’ll be staying in, our revered Mayor disappears into his home, uncharacteristically. Curious, I push off the wall and follow. “Buckman?”

“Oh,” Is the only response at first, which I take as ‘Please, come in!’, and do. It’s a very wonky ‘Oh’, coming out twisted around every which way, like you were feeling one way and tried to sound a different way. Chewing the inside my cheek, I creep across loud ass floorboards to the livingroom. There, he’s standing by the window with the blinds closed. He looks tired as hell, somehow. I don’t know how a ghost can look so exhausted, but he does. And it’s a weird thing to see on the usually vibrant southerner. “I was just looking for my good handkerchief, this one’s got the wrong pattern- doesn’t match.”

“Oh, stop it.” I walk on in and sit myself down on the couch, patting the spot beside me for him, bossily. “Why don’t you just mourn?”

He gives me a forced smile, not at all in it, and pointedly refuses to sit with me. Oh, boy. “One doesn’t mourn, when you know you’ll see them again soon.”

Okay, ignoring the fact that neither of us know exactly what happens after you really die and he could just disappear into nothingness rather then see her again because we don’t want to make him mad… Changing tact, I turn to him inquisitively. “Buckman, what are you gonna do when you see her again? What do you wanna do?”

“Ah, well, first I’ll intend to hug the stuffing out a’ her, but after that I believe it’s become a bit personal, and we don’t have that relationship my dear.”

“Okay.” Let’s move past that, because the last thing I want in my head is this man and my sisters bedroom activities. My face darkens determinedly, causing Buckman to squint suspiciously at what I’m about to throw at him. “Well, if you don’t sit down and be sad for more then the 2 seconds it takes for you to meaninglessly switch handkerchiefs, you won’t have the energy to do that. You’ll probably faint, if you can even do that in heaven or… wherever you’re going, and then there will be no hugging.” His face darkens, because he knows I’m right. I lean forward towards him, and reiterate. “No hugging. Zip!”

“Okay!” He raises his hands, begging me to stop causing a self-satisfied smile to come to my face. For a moment more, he thinks -I’m sure, - about leaving and avoiding this again like he has bene since she died, but catches my eye and that does it. He gives a defeated sigh, and sits down beside me. I change my expression to sympathetic, because I know how he feels. She was my sister. I loved her, too.

Awkwardly, I drop a couple pats on his back, as he sits doubled over with his face in his hands. Then even ore awkwardly, I cough into my shoulder. “Tea?”

“Ahhh, yes please.”

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: 

I grip my spoon so tightly that my knuckles go completely white, but I let him go. Hoyt leaves the room, and the house, and I manage not to scream at him to come back and face me, because Luda Mae asked me to. That’s the only reason I didn’t throw the spoon at him.

… But, he’s crossed a line.

So, I push out of the seat and stomp past Thomas in his breakfast seat and Luda Mae pouring him water and out the door after him. “Oh, Charlie!!”

“Who the fuck- “He turns around, as he was heading for his car and his eyes land on me. Immediately they darken from being irritated, to mad and promptly, sticks up his middle finger at me. I grit my teeth, reach him and snatch it out of the air, throwing his hand back to his side. “What do you want, I’m a busy man.”

“You’re fucking unemployed, shut your trap.” I point with my thumb back into the house, and incredulously at him. “What the hell was that?? I haven’t seen a face like that on Luda Mae… e-ever. Ever. I have never seen her that hurt. What the fuck??”

The look Luda’s face appears in the forefront of my mind again, that appeared on her delicate features right after Hoyt told her to ‘shut the fuck up’. He has never used language like that at her before. God, her face. It was a horrible mix of shocked, and destroyed. She thought, we all thought, that if Hoyt still cared and respected anyone in this family then it was her. Evidently, we were wrong.   The fire in my eyes intensify, thinking about the flagrant disrespect. To her! Of all people! That sweet woman! Since I came here, with (Your Friend Who Was With Hoyt’s Name), she has been the kindest.

Hoyt, the least kind. So, I feel zero guilt in tearing him a new one out here.

Oh, you go ahead and flare those nostrils at me Hoyt, I’m not moving. “It’s a family matter, you can stick your nose out of it.”

“Oh,” I say, clutching my heart. “I’m wounded!” He doesn’t think I’ve heard that one before? Well, he’s more of a moron then I thought. “Bottom line, Hoyt, I haven’t seen you be that awful, since you fell in love with- “

“Don’t you dare say her name.” He warns, opening the car door and plopping himself in the front seat. He tries to slam the door shut, but I plant myself between him the door, and hold it open making him deeply sigh. Seeing I wasn’t about to leave, he promptly picks up his gun and a rag and starts cleaning it.

“The person you became with her is worth being. She would never forgive you if you crumpled now. I, would never forgive you.” I point to the house again. “She’s turning in her grave!!”

Hoyt scoffs, a cough of a laugh nearly, and continues to wipe his gun off- of what? I have no idea. He’s just cleaning his gun. Which looks perfectly clean to me. “Well she ain’t here, is she?” He looks up at me next, and the look in his eyes is cold, but not cold enough to force me to back down. “And I don’t remember us ever being friends.”

“Hah, we weren’t.” We will never be. “But guess what? I’m here and I’m here to stay. I won’t let you spiral into a crotchety mess, or even more of a disgusting mess then you’ve always been even with her. And I won’t exactly like it, but I’ll live with it. Because- “

“I don’t need any of your help, honey- “

“Because,” I continue, through grit teeth. His eyes flash at getting cut off, and of course, I revel in it. “I loved her too. I won’t let you become something she would hate. She loved you. Far be it me to understand why, but she did. You could see it in her face, and the way she talked to you. And it hurts so bad, imagining what she might be thinking, watching you now. If she could see you, if she’s seeing you, whatever your stance on religion, she would be heartbroken.”

He looks up, and this time squints at me. “You think I care what she would feel?”

At that little remark, I slam the door in his face, and lean close to the window. “Yes.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Yandere!Mayor Buckman x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Preacher’s Daughter 

Notes: 

Completely based off ‘Preacher’s Daughter’ by Maggie Rose. I totally recommend it- its such a spooky, beautiful murder mystery song! 

This was going to be drabbles (With a part for Jafar and Hoyt as well, and possibly Offender) but then this one reached a thousand words on its own so now its a Oneshot. 

So there is possibly a Jafar part coming up on its own soon. 

This was soooo fun to write- I need to write more messed up stuff more often. 

Plot: Pretty straight forward- He’s obsessed with you, and he’s been planning his revenge since you turned him down. You will never get to marry Harper. 

Warnings: GORE, unhealthy obsession (Yandere), death of reader, forced kiss, impending death of canon character (Canon divergence), power imbalance, possible age difference if you want it 

~~~

“Okay, I’m definitely going, now.” You grin and roll your eyes at your sweet boy, letting go of him and making to go for the 5th time. Harper himself makes like he’s finally going to say goodbye for a moment, then changes tact and grins that charming grin of his, tugging you back to him for one final kiss. Hopefully, it’s the final kiss. You really have to get going! Your family will send a hunting party if you don’t get in that carriage and go, now!

“I’m not ready to let y’ go, yet, Miss Y/N.” Oh God. Lest you take the lord name in vein, but you really wish he would stop calling you that. He says he will when you’re married, but that date is closing in! Can’t he get some practise in with ‘Y/N’, yet? You set him an unamused look, but the effort is futile seeing the smile on your lips. You can’t help it. He’s ridiculously cute.

“Harper… “You whine. “If I don’t get going now, my parents will think you kidnapped me. You know how long the journey is from here to home.”

“Why can’t you just live here, with your fiancé? We’re nearly married!” He tries to reason, but you just raise your eyebrows and counter.

“Why can’t you just start calling me just Y/N, yet??”

“You got a good point… “A mischievous grin turns up the corners of his perfect mouth. “‘Just Y/N’.”

“Lord!” You exclaim, pushing away from him permanently, finally. That’s what he gets, for being so terrible to you! You turn to flash an apologetic look to Harper’s Mayor, who’s been waiting by your carriage, ready to take you back home this whole time. “Sir, I’m sorry for the wait! We’re going now, for sure. Hold on just a second more.”

Mayor Buckman has always been very kind to you. You do sometimes wonder, why he offers to help you home- surely there are more pressing, mayoral duties for him to carry out rather than lead you an hour home every day that you come to visit, but he always insists.

And you know he had feelings for you, seeing as he asked to marry you, once. Before you and Harper really began to court. But you said no, because there was something about Harper that made you happier, despite the better life a Mayor could give you. You’re happy with your decision to this day, but, so, you continue to worry that Buckman might still have feelings for you. At the time, you had thought he only asked because it would be a good way to settle some disagreements between your two towns… but its hard to not think there were some feelings, when someone asks for your hand like that. So you still worry that maybe he still holds some of those feelings.

You hope not.

You want to believe he isn’t being so kind to you because of a reason like that, knowing you’re engaged to Harper. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. And you definitely want to trust Harper, who does nothing but sing his mayor’s praises when you asked him about this weird behaviour.

Granted, Harper doesn’t know about the proposal, but you try not to feel guilty about that. You didn’t want to ruin his view of Buckman, because he loves him so much.

Besides, he’s never tried to hurt you. Which, you think, must mean he doesn’t hold any ill-will towards you.

“I’m holdin’ out just fine, Y/N. Don’t you worry about me, but let it get any darker ‘round us and your father’ll sure be sendin’ a search party for you.”

And that’s the other thing. Buckman calls you ‘Y/N’. Not Miss, not ‘Lady’.

Y/N.

Just an informal, casual, ‘Y/N’. Its more than half the reason you want Harper to start calling you as such. So, you don’t share something so oddly intimate with him anymore.

Still though, you smile and wave him off. Perhaps he’s just overcompensating for trying to make things not so awkward between the two of you. “Don’t worry, I’m coming now!” Finally, look over your shoulder back to Harper and flash a big grin at him, blowing a kiss as you walk off. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Buckman opens your door for you. Harper calls; Smile audible through his voice. “We’ll have a picnic!”

Feeling a new-found excitement for the next day, when you would have your picnic with Harper, you hop in the carriage and turn around to smile one last time at him. “Oh, that sounds lovely!”

Then Buckman slams your carriage door shut.

___TIME SKIP: Half an hour later___

The mud from the riverbank under your dress squelches as you try to get back up, but as soon as you take the necessary deep breath and stretch your stomach, the oxygen completely escapes you and your muscles forcefully relax again. The wound there burns, like if you cut yourself open pour in hot sand- the bullet that’s encased in your kidney moves every time you do and it feels like you’re shot all over again every time you try. You’re stuck. You aren’t getting out of this.

You’re about to die.

The mad man standing above you with a Smith and Wesson model in his hand, and blood coats the other from when he’d touched your stomachs hole. Which was put there of course by him.

He was curious.

Or obsessed, as you’ve realised. Glaring bravely up at him, you grit your teeth and talk through the pain. “They’ll find out what you’ve done, you wicked- “

“Yes, dear. Sure they will.” A gross, gleeful grin is pasted to his once-kind face. Then he widens his eyes and makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth. “Oh, wait. That is unless I, their favourite and totally trusted political figure, persuade them all that it was a murder suicide. Absolutely not a certain nasty, jealous mayor.”

That confuses you… and worries you. Covering your gunshot wound, you look up at him and furrow your eyebrows. “M… Murder, suicide?”

“Yes! Well, you don’t think I’ll just let that poor boy go on living, do you? If I’m going to kill you, someone I assure you I love with all my heart, then he’s definitely got to go.” Every word that comes out of this man’s mouth sounds more and more insane.

Your eyes widen and even more panic- so much that you didn’t think existed inside you,- surges through you. Not Harper, not Harper- “No! -“

“Yes!” Tears start waterfalling down your cheeks, and you don’t even care about the taste of mud and blood with you cover your mouth with your hands, sobbing from your aching stomach. Buckman revels in it.

That’s what you deserve; To feel just as bad as how you made him feel by rejecting him, and traipsing around his town with that moronic boy.

Unfortunately though, the show must come to an end.

He grins radiantly, and continues on. “Now, darling, I think its time to wrap this up. Let’s see, mental check list: Hm, yes. I’ve shot you, my lovely sweetheart, revealed to you the looming death of your young love, ah… hm. Yes. Just two more things, dear!”

Before you can even collect yourself or look up, he drops to a crouch -careful not to get mud on his clothes,- traps both your wrists in the hand that isn’t pressing the gun into your gut and presses a horrifying kiss to your mouth. The kiss of death- the kiss of a madman. It tastes like iron from your blood, salt from your tears, dirt from the mud and disgust entirely from him. You don’t close your eyes for even a second of it-

-Until the killing bullet shoots into you.

[tinalbion]

Mayor Buckman Masterlist

HCs Quiet Lover

HCs Soulmate AU

HCs Breathplay Kink

HCs Touch Starved

HCs Laughing Hysterically

HCs Honest Working s/o

HCs Trigger Happy s/o

HCs Mermaid s/o

HCs Falling For A Married Mayor

HCs General Fluff

NSFW Bad Day And Being Rough Drabble

Sick s/o Drabble

NSFW Squirting s/o

HCs Male s/o

HCs Pregnancy Kink

HCs NSFW First Time Oral

Bisexual s/o Threesome Drabble

S/o With Sleep Paralysis Drabble

NSFW Teasing Drabble

S/o Who’s A Flapper Drabble

HCs Virgin s/o With Body Issues

S/O Who Gets Hurt at the Jubilee Drabble

HCs NSFW Seducing Buckman

HCs Jealous Buckman

HCs Fluffy Buckman

No Time To Die scenario

Breeding Kink and Rough Sex

Twisted Obsession headcanons

HCs with Nudist s/o

Goth S/O headcanons

‘For Better or For Worse’ scenario

‘Till Death and Beyond’ scenario

Buckman x wife!Reader snippet

NSFW Alphabet

Heavy Metal Singer w Tattoos Snippet

Mayor Buckman (& Others) x S/O with long hair

Mayor Buckman (& Michael) x S/O with identical twin

Mayor Buckman (& Englund Characters) - Stressed S/O