I Swear The First Time His S/o Sits On His Face Tendous Probably Like "If I Die, Its Cause The Pussy

ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: if you walk from home, school, office or anywhere and you are alone and you come across a little boy crying holding a piece of paper with an address on it, DO NOT TAKE HIM THERE! take him straight to the police station for this is the new 'gang' way of rape. The incident is getting worse. Warn your families. Reblog this so this message can get accross to everyone.

Please work on a pt. 2 to the Luna Hunt or a series in general its so good I beg off u. I would love to see where things go with them and her father and the new queen and king

ahhhhh yeah the whole father storyline like i dont even know where to go with that

hate it when my reader's flimsy purpose to escape comes back to bite me in the booty like ouch now i gotta work with that plot strand. luna hunt is def the most requested for a second part and i swear i hear u i just haven't read this genre in so long i dont even know where to start.

scratch that, i know exactly hwere to start, i just dont know where to go after that. we'll see maybe one day ill think of smth

Guppy Love (Todoroki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Fish don’t survive in coffee. You find that out the hard way.

A/N: My God, I love this one so much. Please enjoy!

Word count: 1486

        “Man, you are whipped for her!” Todoroki rolls his eyes at the statement. 

        “No, I’m not.”

        “You liar, you totally like YN!” Kaminari pokes his classmate’s arm obnoxiously. 

        “I don’t like her, so stop going around saying that,” Todoroki monotonously responded. 

        The class froze at the sound of a crash and a scream in the hallway. Suddenly, Mina bursts breathlessly into the room, her eyes wide with terror.

        “Yn fell in the hallway and-”

        Todoroki’s hand bursts into flames on his desk, leaving burns in the wood. 

        “Is she okay?!” He doesn’t wait for an answer before pushing past Mina and sprinting out into the hall. 

        “YN!”

        He finds you collapsed on your knees in the middle of the corridor with puffy eyes and red cheeks.

        “I dropped the fish tank.” You sniffle and shyly hold up a filled coffee cup with an orange creature floating ominously at the surface. “I don’t think Mr. Bubbles is gonna make it.” Your voice is tight with sadness as you stare ashamed into the overflowing cup. 

        “Yn, I’m so sorry.”

        “Can you make some water for him or something?” Your eyes glowed with hope as you stared up at him. 

        “I don’t think-”

        “Please?” Todoroki sighs and gives in, taking a seat next to you on the ground and cupping his hands. In the one, he creates ice, and then proceeds to use the other to melt it. 

        With his fingers clumped tightly together to form a makeshift bowl of water, Todoroki tries not to grimace at the slimy texture of the fish you plop into his hand. 

        Mr. Bubbles doesn’t move. 

        “Maybe he’s just sleeping,” you say hopefully, your eyes locked on the guppy. 

        “Maybe he’s dead.” Todoroki observes your face for a reaction, but you simply bite your lip with drying eyes. 

        “Maybe you’re right,” you mutter before groaning and dropping your face into your hands. Todoroki shifts uncomfortably and sneers at the dead fish floating in his grasp. 

        “What should we do?” you ask. Todoroki’s eyes trail to you before glancing at the nearby courtyard, then returning to your face once more. Catching his drift, you gasp dramatically. 

        “No, I am not leaving him for dead in the middle of the school yard!” 

        “He’s already dead.”

        “I don’t care!” After standing up, you help Todoroki to his feet and cross your arms indignantly. 

        “We should hold a funeral in the bathroom!” You smack your hands together as if you’ve just discovered the cure for cancer. “It’s genius! And tasteful!” 

        “Or we could leave some bird a generous meal in the school courtyard.” You give him a withering glare.

        “All those in favor of holding a memorial service for our beloved Mr. Bubbles, raise your hand.” You raise your hand at your own suggestion then ask, “All those opposed?” Todoroki narrows his eyes at you. Even if he tried to “oppose,” water and dead fish would spill everywhere. 

        “It seems we’ve come to a compromise.” You smile happily at him and clap excitedly. 

        “That was, in no way, a compromise.” The emotion of Todoroki’s face is emptier than a teenage boy’s search history, but you try to ignore how it still manages to make your heart race.

        “No matter! Follow me,” you announce, directing Todoroki to the nearest bathroom... it’s the women’s room.

        “YN no-“ you giddily shove him in with a little too much force and Mr. Bubbles goes on a once in a lifetime (or is it death time?) flight. You both watch in horror as he falls to the ground with a squelching “splat.”

        Nobody makes a sound, completely aghast at the crime scene. The bathroom is hauntingly silent except for the gentle buzzing of the fluorescent lights.

        “I’m not picking him up!” Todoroki mumbles and you shout at the same time, voices clashing noisily. Neither of you wanted to touch the corpse. Swiftly, you look over at your partner in crime and nod your head towards the fish once, twice, three times all the while he’s shaking his head.

        “No way, I already picked up that thing once. It’s your turn.”

        “Oh come on!”

        “Plus, you killed it.” You gasp offensively while he raises his brows. The staredown doesn’t last long and you eventually throw in the towel, pursing your lips and rolling your eyes. Shoes squeaking against the tile, you skulk your way over to the fish.

        “Fine.” Crouching low, you investigate Mr. Bubbles from multiple angles, trying to deduct the best method of transfer. 

        “He’s not just gonna flop himself in, you know.” You hurl a murderous look at Todoroki for the quip before reaching out with pinched fingers towards your flubby friend. 

        “God, this is a bloodbath,” you grimace before tentatively snagging a fin and holding back a gag at it’s slippery texture. 

        “Grossgrossgrossgrossgross,” you repeat all the way to the toilet, unceremoniously tossing Mr. Bubbles into the bowl like a sack of flour. “Oh my Godddd!” you choke out, darting over to the sink and almost slipping in the water puddle Todoroki left on the way. 

        While you clean your hands, your companion peers in at a floating Mr. Bubbles, blanching at the sight of the fish’s blank, bulging eye staring unblinkingly at him. He backs away slowly and you join him by his side, gulping nervously. 

        “Let’s get the party started, shall we?” you ask with a shaky smile. 

        “Sure” is Todoroki’s lame response. You scoff before clearing your throat.

        “Well, Mr. Bubbles, you lived a good, long life-”

        “About two weeks.”

        “And it’s a shame to see you go like this.”

        “Just to be clear, we know it wasn’t your fault-”

        “Zip it, Shouto!” You point a trembling finger at him threateningly and he raises his hands in surrender. 

        “Anyways, even though I tried my very best to save you-”

        “You scooped him into Aizawa’s coffee mug.”

        “It’s still a sad day to watch you go. We will always cherish the memories we shared with you-”

        “Yep, those two that we made. The one where we bought him for two bucks and the other where you overfed him and gave him fish diabetes-”

        “Do you know how it feels to be strangled? Because you’re about to find out.” Arms akimbo, you stare at Todoroki with fierce, wide eyes. He shrugs. “That’s what I thought,” you nodded. 

        As you ramble on to your beloved fish friend, Todoroki can’t help but zone out and think about the situation he has found himself in. For the first time in his life, he’s ditching a class in school, and it’s only to throw a funeral for an over-caffeinated guppy. With anyone else, he would have left twenty minutes ago, but right now he wanted to stay. You were here, and Todoroki never knew why, but he always felt drawn to your presence. He had only known you for two months, but something about you made him want to break down the walls he had built up over the years. You were different, and you valued every moment of life you had. He adored that about you.

        Geez, maybe he was whipped.

        The gentle beating in his chest soon rivaled that of a racing stampede of elephants when you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Your heart sped up too, but you didn’t care to mention it. Instead, you chose to release a shaky breath when his arm slowly encompassed your shoulders. 

        “Um,” you swallow, “did you want to say anything?” 

        Todoroki held in a snort. “No, I’m plenty good.” The room fell into silence once more, but the atmosphere wasn’t solemn for a dead fish funeral. It was tense and shy, filled with teenage anxiousness that only arose when two requited crushes were together in one room. Todoroki started to grow uncomfortable, though.

        “So are you gonna flush him or...?” he trails off.

        “Oh yeah.” You lick your lips nervously and step out of his warm embrace before pressing down the handle. “Goodbye Mr. Bubbles. We wish you well on your journey to the... I don’t know, water heavens or something.” You step away with a shrug back into Todoroki’s hold. All is peaceful, until....

        Clunk clunk.

        Oh crap.

        Both of you watch in horror as the toilet clogs, water rising higher and higher until it overflows, carrying the dead fish with it. Yours and Todoroki’s eyes follow the journey of Mr. Bubbles as he rides a wave all the way to the tips of your shoes, stopping perfectly to stare up at the two of you with vacant, enlarged pupils. 

        You sigh and smack your palm against your face. “I’ll go get the janitor.”

        “I told you we should’ve just hucked him.”

        “Shut it, Shouto.”

Darling Traps Them in a Room to Escape (Yandere Haikyuu Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

Sugawara and Kuroo Version

Bokuto, Kageyama, and Kenma Version

Tendou and Hinata Version

A/N: Hey y’all, I just wanted to say I am working on the requests in my box, I promise. Anyways, here’s a little something I wanted to write for me, but I figure maybe some others might like it as well. It’s yandere, bc honestly I just need more yandere Haikyuu content in my life. Enjoy! (Side note: Thanks for 1k followers!)

Word count: 1909

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

For the first few minutes, the home is filled with a dead silence. You had managed to lure him into your “bedroom” (aka the room where he kept you locked up tight) and trap him inside, blocking the door with the tallest, heaviest furniture you could manage. 

The only audible sounds are you sifting through every drawer within the apartment and you cursing under your breath every time you come up empty. 

Where the hell is it?

The prize of your scavenger hunt? The keys to the door. The keys to your freedom. You see, the door Ushijima held you captive behind wasn’t the issue-- it was the sheer number of locks that lined up above and below the knob. 

Ushijima was a strong man, but he was also smart. He made a door that not even someone of his intimidating stature could break through. 

It was quite effective, too. You couldn’t find the damn key ring that you always heard jingling from your bedroom that signaled his arrival. Every cabinet, drawer, nightstand, anything throughout the apartment was empty of your target. 

“What the fuck?” you hiss, slamming yet another cupboard closed. You’d even climbed the countertops to search above the shelves in the kitchen and in the nearby living room. Nothing.

BANG!

The sudden slam makes you squeal in terror. 

BANG! BANG!

It’s coming from your room. 

Ushijima. 

He’s trying to break out.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Even you can see from your viewpoint directly across from the hallway that the door is shivering. The hinges are whining with every slam as your kidnapper rams against the barrier with all the strength in his body. 

You don’t make a sound. Your heart is pounding, blood rushing in your ears as you pick through every hiding spot you can think of, hands trembling as you sift through pens, notepads, random things in every office drawer. 

“No, no, no,” you choke out, throat tightening at the booms behind you. 

Then you hear splinters. With a glance behind your back, you notice the door has been cracked in two. 

“NO!” you scream, frantic as ever. Suddenly, the keys no longer matter. You just need to get the hell out of there.

But there’s no windows. Not any that you can fit through. So you charge towards the main door, taking a page out of Ushijima’s book and ramming into it. 

“COME ON!” you cry helplessly, pawing at the door when it doesn’t budge. Not even a shiver. You kick against it, fumble with the locks, twist the knob, do anything and pray to God that it works. 

“YN.” No. A large hand falls on your shoulder, halting your movements. 

“Come on,” you whisper, arms dangling lifelessly at your side. All you can do is stare at your failure. The door is locked, and deep down you know it always will be. Now it will, anyways. Thanks to him. 

“YN,” Ushijima repeats, raising his voice just a notch. He doesn’t even sound angry or pissed. For some reason, it sounded like he pitied you. 

All you can do is give in. That’s it. 

So you turn around and grab two fistfuls of his shirt, slamming your face against his solid chest as you mourn, crying for what could have been, but will never be. 

There’s no will to fight when his hand falls into your hair, petting the strands gently while the other palms the small of your back. 

“You know I hate seeing you cry.” The rumble of his voice is soothing in a way, and part of you instinctively relaxes in his grip. “Come. I’ll make you a nice dinner to calm down and then we can discuss our new sleeping arrangements, since your bedroom is obviously unusable now.”

This man had taken you from your own home and claimed he loved you. But he was a beast, a six-foot monster of pure muscle. How do you escape that? 

Answer: you don’t.

“...Okay.”

Oikawa Tooru: 

“YN come on, you’re being ridiculous.” 

“It’s very cramped in here. Would you mind letting me out, darling?”

“YN, give up. You’re never leaving me!”

His voice was muffled from the closet where you had managed to trap him, stuffing a chair under the knob to keep him in place. 

“Fuck you, Oikawa.” 

“Don’t be like that, YN. Just let me out and we can talk about this!” 

Rolling your eyes, you continued picking at the locks with bent paper clips. At some point, you had seen this in a TV show somewhere, so surely it worked, right?

Honestly, you had no idea what you were doing, but you quite liked the panic that seemed to grow in Oikawa’s voice every second you fumbled with the lock just a bit louder. The smallest clicks made him whine from across the room. 

“YN, please! I love you so much, darling. Just let me out of here and I promise I’ll forget this ever happened. No punishments, I swear.”

Bile crawled up your throat at the words, forcing you to slam your fists against the door in frustration. “Shut the fuck up, Oikawa-”

“Tooru, YN. You know I hate it when you don’t say my name.” 

“Oh I am so gonna kill you!” you seethed, rising to your feet and spinning, throwing a hard heel kick against the door. 

For the first time in twenty minutes, Oikawa shut his trap. Maybe he had found a way out, or maybe he had taken your threat seriously. To be honest, neither scenario was appealing to you at the moment. 

“Y-YN, surely you don’t mean that,” he finally mumbled, sounding crestfallen. “You don’t hate me that much. No, no you don’t. You’re just confused-- you see, you can’t escape because you don’t want to escape.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t want to escape because you love me.” A noise suspiciously akin to that of someone slamming their forehead against a door sounded from Oikawa’s general area. “And I love you too, YN. So just let me out and we can talk about this. You don’t have to be afraid of your feelings for me!”

Oh wow. WOW. This guy was the definition of delusional. 

“Oh Tooru,” you sighed, massaging your temples from an oncoming headache. “How are you so blind?” You draw closer to the closet, noting the excited scrambles behind the door as Oikawa audibly hears you approach. 

“You see, I fucking hate your guts.” 

He chokes on his breath. “N-no. You don’t mean that.” His voice wavers with every syllable. 

“I despise you.”

“No.”

“How sad is it that the one you love absolutely loathes you? Does it hurt to know that I will never love you? To know that you’re the bane of my existence?”

“YN don’t be like this.”

“Because Tooru, how could I love someone who is such a failure?”

“STOP IT! SHUT UP AND LET ME OUT!” 

It was a rush to torture someone who had taken you from your own family. To hear them wilt under your thumb like a pest. 

“Oh I’m sorry Tooru, do you want to be let out? Do you want to escape-”

*click*

Your mind goes blank at the sound. The door.

No. Not that door. This door. 

The chair squeals against the wood floor, being pushed by pure will alone. Simple strength couldn’t do that. And when it’s finally opened to the fullest, Oikawa stands in the doorway, head hanging as his hand drops from the knob. 

You couldn’t move, feeling frozen in fear like your feet were locked in quicksand. Eyes wide, you track Oikawa’s every move while you plead with your own body to do the same. But you couldn’t. 

Did he really just…

Finally, his head straightens up, giving you a chance to see his face. 

Stained with tears, streaks trail down his cheeks, but a small smile has formed from his lips. His pupils are dilated, not even squinting at the change of lighting.

“YN… YN, YN, YN. God, I could say your name for days. Now you say mine.” His voice is overall blank, but there’s a small tinge of encouragement in it and a dash of glee in his eyes. 

“T-Tooru.” Your meek whisper is enough to please him. In an instant, he’s on the move, approaching you and grabbing your hands, pressing them to his face before moaning at the contact. 

“Good girl,” he stares deeply into your eyes, running his lips along the palms of your hands. “Now, it’s almost lunchtime. How about we order in for today?” 

The sudden shift in his attitude… shit. You knew he was insane, but this? Was this even real? Had he completely forgotten what you said??

After seeing what he could do with sheer force of will, you didn’t want to poke that bear. No. You had never heard him so frustrated and broken before. And now, suddenly he’s all hunky-dory, acting as if that phase of utter fear hadn’t just happened.

Who the hell was this guy?

“O-okay.”

He smiles at your agreement. Then he pulls you by your hands towards the living room, sitting on the couch before gently tugging you into his lap. His arms are wrapped around your waist, but the grip is like waves on the beach. Every few seconds, it will tighten as his fingernails dig into your hips, then it will recede and he will loosen up a bit before the action repeats itself.

You can feel his hot breath on your neck and his strong thighs underneath you on the couch. The warmth of it all is almost too much as sweat, nervous or heated, gathers at your brow. Your own hands are folded against your lap, not daring to move.

What happened to the strong girl from a few minutes ago who was trying to escape? The one who was willing to spit at him viciously and throw caution to the wind?

The question was completely valid. But that was before you could see him. For a split second, you forgot he was a grown man, completely and utterly capable of hurting not only you but also your family. It felt so safe to be protected by a wall from him.

Until he broke that of course.

“YN…” Oikawa trails off, waiting for your attention. 

“Yes?”

“Those words from earlier hurt.” Oh God. “You didn’t mean them, right?”

The silence is deafening as he waits for an answer. At first, you thought he was being patient, then his fingertips began digging into your hips enough to cause bruises. 

“No, o-of course not.” His grip doesn’t relent.

“Good. Now tell me you love me.”

This was your fate now. A grown man, no longer the teen who had a childish crush on you in high school, had kidnapped you and you couldn’t escape. Your chest constricted at the thought, and your gaze strays to the door. I was so close.

“YN,” he warns, tone dipping dangerously. Ow, ow, ow.

“I love you, Tooru.” 

A giggle slips out of the man beneath you as his forehead drops to your shoulder. “I love you too, darling!” 

So close.

YN: DICK!

Dick Grayson: What do you want?!

YN: I JUST TOLD YOU!

Hi! This isn't a request. But I just read A Cut Above the Rest and its lovely ): thank you for accepting my request. It was a lovely read, it fed my need for sugawara content, my need for angst, but also fluff! Overall very very sweet, felt the reader's pain and insecurities. Just wow :') It was definitely worth the wait! All your work is. Take your time in writing your requests. Your wellbeing comes first. Hope all is well. Thanks again!

Thank you, thank you, thank you for saying this. You put a smile on my face first thing in the morning, and that hasn’t happened in a while, so thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed the story so much, and I definitely had a fun (and slightly personal as well) time writing it.

Also, thank you to everyone else on the story who told me to look out for my personal health as well. You’re all very kind and amazing people💜

Do you think you can do yandere Tomura and yandere Dabi who had to tell their darling to run because they had to fight and when they find their darling they think they tried to run away from them only to be wrong when their darling hugs them crying because they had got lost and grew scared of being away from them

He Tells You to Run During His Fight and You Get Lost (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

Bakugou, Shinsou, and Todoroki Version

A/N: Yes yes yes! I LOVE writing yanderes! Especially this kind of angsty/petty shit. It hits me in my feels y’all. Anyways, I sincerely hope you like it!

Word count: 1075

Shigaraki Tomura:

The heroes-- those fucking heroes!-- they found the lair.

He didn’t want you to get caught. He didn’t want them to steal you from him, so he told you to run.

You were so scared.

“RUN!”

You did.

But… where were you now? 

He had barely escaped the fight with his life and now all he needed was you, but you were nowhere to be seen.

Shigaraki was pissed, constantly scratching his neck and mumbling your name while he searched the streets nearby. 

But he was scared too. 

He thought he was finally getting to you! Just recently, you had finally responded to one of his kisses, so how could you abandon him now?

Oh, you were so going to be punished after this.

“YN! WHERE ARE YOU!”

But there’s no response. The streets are empty at the sight of a man covered in disembodied hands and blood. Not even the slightest scuffle assisted him in finding you.

Hours passed without a sign, and Shigaraki’s heart grew more and more pained.

How… how could you?

“Tomura?!” 

His name is called in the distance, barely audible, but in the most heavenly voice. 

“YN!” 

“TOMURA!”

You sounded so scared. You should be.

When he finally caught sight of you, you were already sprinting toward him at full speed.

Rage filled his chest. 

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING- oof.”

Suddenly he’s tackled into a hug, with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. You squeeze him so close, afraid he might slip away and be lost forever if you let go.

You! You were-... you were... hugging him?

Oh. 

His arms fumble to wrap around your waist and he hugs you. A relieved sigh falls from his lips. 

Oh.

God, he loved you so much.

“My sweet darling, are you okay?”

“I thought I lost you…” you mumble against his chest, sniveling voice muffled. 

His heart beamed at the words, and he runs comforting hands up and down your back to soothe your shaking. 

“Never.” He pressed a dry kiss to your scalp. “I’m not letting you go ever again. I promise.”

You both stand in the middle of the street for a moment longer, Shigaraki grinning and you trying to slow your tears. 

When your body seems to calm in his grip, he leans back and scans your beautiful form up and down.

“Now let’s go home, love.”

“Okay… and Tomura?” 

God, he loves the way you say his name.

“Yes?” 

“Thank you.” His heart flutters.

Oh no, you were never leaving the house again. Shigaraki could never let you go after this. You were his. He would be the only one to hold you ever again.

“Of course, darling.”

Dabi:

It was the first day he had finally let you out of his home. 

He had taken you on a “date” of sorts, going up deep into the woods to watch the stars. It was far enough away that no one could hear your screams if you tried to get away. 

Thank God you didn’t. 

In fact, you seemed almost happy, holding his hand and swinging it back and forth as you both traveled home. He couldn’t help but smirk at the smile on your face.

The peaceful night was ruined when a hero recognized him. A battle was on, and Dabi was forced to let you go.

“YN, run!”

“B-but I-”

“RUN!” 

He loved a good listener, and he loved you even more, but he couldn’t afford to let someone take you away. 

You disappeared into the night, dashing away as he’d ordered. Good girl.

The hero, if you could even call him that at this point, was burnt to a smoking crisp in minutes, because how dare he ruin Dabi’s first date with you?

But… where did you go?

The stitched man wasn’t sure where you had gone, even after searching for however many hours. It was like you had disappeared without a trace.

Surely you didn’t… leave, did you? No. No, you would never.

Another hour passed.

YOU BITCH!

“YN WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

Blue flames licked at his palms as he charged down the street, eyes darting back and forth.

“I WILL FIND YOU!”

“Dabi?” 

A meek whisper sounded from the dead-end alley across the street.

“Dabi?” Just a tad louder, your fearful voice mumbled his name, but he stayed silent. 

He could hear the blood pumping in his ears. Fury settled in the pit of his stomach, and he wanted to pounce on you so bad. 

But he wouldn’t. No, he wouldn’t.

He would much rather you come to your predator like a lamb to the slaughter. 

Blue eyes glowing in the light of his flames, he narrows his gaze and skims the murky street for even the slightest movement. Then your head pops up from behind a dumpster.

“Dabi!” your voice shouts in… relief?

Dabi’s fingers itch to wrap around your throat, but the urge falters when you cry out in joy, standing up fully and dashing towards the confused man.

“Wha…?” 

Any air he had gathered is forced out of his chest when you shove his blazing hands away and trap him in your arms.

“YN-”

“I was so scared when I couldn’t find you!” You whimper against his chest, leaving his mind a muddled mess. “I thought- hiccup- I thought that hero killed you and started coming after me.”

The rest of your words grow into a panicked rambling as you break down against him, hands gripping his upper back tighter and tighter with every gasping breath you take. 

You were so terrified, trembling and shivering and crying. It was so beautiful.

A sly grin works its way onto Dabi’s face and he sneaks a hand up to brush through your hair. 

“Shh. Shh. You’re okay now.” 

You were so perfect.

“It’s all gonna be okay.”

God, he loved you so much.

“Nobody’s ever going to take you from me.”

“Promise?”

Oh fuck. 

You were such a good girl, so obedient. 

Dabi’s fingers twitch while combing through your hair, tangling deeper into the strands. Then his other arm encircles your hips and stiffens like solid metal.

Dabi simpers finally, pressing his upturned lips to your cheek. 

“Oh, I promise, darling. I swear my life to it.”

The Claw (Nishinoya x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Claw machines are unfair, and your boyfriend is seriously impatient. You see where this is going, right?

A/N: Just another imagine I got to write thanks to this prompt by @otpdisaster​. Seriously, if you ever get writer’s block, go check them out, they’re a godsend. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 914

        Buzz buzz.

        The call scared you out of your homework induced trance. After a certain point, you knew you had to give up on zoning out while glaring at the laptop screen. With a sigh, you snatched up your phone and answered. 

        “Hello?”

        “YN!” There’s a muffled screeching in the background of the call that sounds suspiciously like your name. 

        “Tanaka? What’s going on?”

        “You need to come-” his voice breaks away in a chuckle. “You need to come to the mall right now!”

        “Umm, why?”

        “Just come!” The noises in the background become louder and more frantic. “And bring butter!”

        “Why do I-” the call ends before you can ask what the hell is going on, and why a dairy product seems to be the solution to whatever mess your boyfriend’s best friend has gotten into. 

        “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumble under your breath, still staring at your phone with wide eyes. Well, it’s better than doing homework on a Saturday. With a shrug, you grab your jacket and your keys, getting ready to drive to the disaster zone. 

                                ~~~

        It’s not much, but it's the best you could find on such short notice, and with such little spare change in your pocket. Walking into the mall with a tub of ‘I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter’ held in your grasp, you anxiously search for the bald volleyball player. 

        “Ooh, there he is!” Your eyes catch on his signature buzz cut and you make a beeline for him. “Tanaka! Hey!”

        The arcade he stands in is dim with neon green lights flashing from the ceiling like a disco. Children shout excitedly and button-mash on the machines like no tomorrow while you shoulder through a crowd of people to grab his arm. 

        “Hey!” You’re barely audible over the sounds of tickets printing and Pac-Man chomping, so you raise your voice to a shout. “Why did you need this?” You hold up the tub in front of his face and he can only guffaw at the sight of you.

        “Oh hey YN! I’m so glad you could make it!” He snickers once more before stepping away from the claw machine he had been standing in front of. “Noya, look who’s here!”

        “Fuck you, man!” Your boyfriend, who had been hidden by the taller stature of Tanaka, is seated on the floor, one arm lodged up the prize door of the machine while the other flips off his friend. 

        The bald man only laughs harder, pressing an arm against his stomach while howls. You, on the other hand, can only gape at the sight.

        “Yuu, what are you doing?!” He rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. 

        “I wanted to get you the little stuffed cat,” he points at the toy with the hand wedged in the machine, fingers just barely visible inside the glass. “But this stupid machine,” he smacks the side of it with a sneer, “totally cheated me!”

        The sentiment made your heart flutter, but the sight made you giggle and avoid eye contact. 

        “Hey!”

        “I’m sorry! It’s just,” you gesture at his predicament, “you know… fucking hilarious!” You can’t hold it in any longer as you join Tanaka in busting a gut while Nishinoya miserably slumps onto the arcade floor. 

        “You guys suck.” You both die laughing at his grumble, holding onto each other for support just in case someone topples over. 

        It doesn’t take long before you get spotted.

        “Excuse me!” It’s a young employee of the arcade, and he looks just about done with all of you from the get-go. “Kid, I’m gonna have to ask you to remove your hand from the machine.” 

        “I’m older than you!” Nishinoya kicks his legs against the ground indignantly and you have to bite your lip to contain yourself. “Plus,” he purses his lips, “I’m stuck.”

        The employee sighs and smacks his palm against his forehead. “I’ll go get the butter.”

        “Oh, no need,” you hold up your grocery store purchase like a prized possession, “I already got some.” The younger man quirks his brow at you before accepting the item and whipping out a handy butter knife from his back pocket. You and Tanaka both gawk and glance at each other at the sight of his preparedness. 

        “Every Goddamn day,” he mutters before getting to work. 

        While Nishinoya’s situation is dealt with, you leave the scene with a promise that you’ll be back to Tanaka. About thirty minutes later, your boyfriend is free as a bird and you pop up in front of him with a gift.

        “Here,” you hand him a stuffed cat with a victorious smirk. Amazement overcomes his features and his jaw drops at the gift. He wiggles excitedly and captures you in a hug, but his appreciation of your present doesn’t last long.

        “Wait,” he pulls away and the overjoyed grin falls from his face. “How did you get this?!” His eyes narrow with suspicion while he observes the toy from all angles like it was a fake.

        “I won it,” you announce proudly.

        “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” 

        If only he knew you were now out forty bucks.

Thank you so much!! I’m so glad the point was coming across—it’s unedited and I was so tired of looking at it in my wips that I just pressed post😭

These comments are so sweet they made my day!🥹💜💜

Look Me in the Eyes (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: During naval training, your jet crashed and burned, taking your memories with it. But the lieutenant who saved you seems to know you better than he lets on. The only issue is that he refuses to tell you his name.

A/N: pfft half yall don’t read this anyway so imma just say rooster’s hot, oreosmama out *drops mic*

Word count: 3345

Keep reading

He Has a Nightmare About You (Stranger Things Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: started watching this show for momma Steve, stayed for the other, also hot characters. Don’t judge me if a vecna version of this comes out soon👀 Enjoy!

Billy Hargrove:

He dreams of you often, but never quite like this.

You’re in his arms; his lips are on yours, and your hands are in his hair. 

When he pulls away, it’s to brush a strand back from your face, pushing it behind your ear while gazing into your eyes. A smile is on his face, inherently small and lopsided, but genuine. 

It’s one of those times where he can’t believe how happy you make him, how much he loves you. You turn him into a teenage boy with a puppy crush all over again, but as long as no one else is around, he doesn't mind that one bit. Vulnerability did not come easy to him, but with you, he’d tear down every wall he’d ever put up just to get closer to you. Just to hold onto you that much longer. 

“Billy…” you hum, your hands coming up to cover his own along your cheeks. He feels infinitely warmer, more relaxed at your touch, and he leans that much closer to you. 

“YN…” Billy drawls back teasingly, blue eyes soft and expectant on yours. Your breath ghosts over his lips, and fuck if he didn’t hate that you made a shiver roll down his spine. 

“I hate you.”

His smile falters. “What?”

You tug his hands off your face, leading them to drop to his sides before stepping back. You shake your head. “I hate you, Billy.” 

Billy’s body grows cold. His lips part as he searches for words, eyes raking over your face for any hint of jest. “This isn’t funny, YN.” He lets out a breathless laugh, but it’s dull and fake and trying to draw some sort of usual response from you. 

“It’s not supposed to be. I’m serious, Billy.” 

His nostrils flare, and he wants to be angry. He wants to grab you and pull you back into his chest and make you wish you’d never said those words, make you wish you never hurt him, make you promise that you’d never hurt him like this again. 

You said that once, that you’d never hurt him like he has been before. You promised.

He bites into his bottom lip, willing a level of restraint, or rather, indifference. 

She promised.

Time moved slowly the second you pulled away from him. Carefully, your arms came up to cross over one another at your chest. Your eyes hardened, not angry or frustrated, but certainly more serious and intentional from when you had said his name earlier. 

He’d never seen you so cold—not at him. 

“What changed?” The words slipped from his lips, but the second they did, he didn’t bother fighting to take them back. He felt trapped in his own skin, unable to escape the anger, the hatred, the i that coursed through veins. “Why now, I mean, after-” he cut himself off with a scoff, bitterly licking his lips, “-after fucking everything we’ve been through together, you just, what, hate me?”

He hated it, this. He hated you, and he’d never done that before. Even the thought of his betrayal being directed toward you made him feel sick. She promised.

Billy looked away, wrenching a hand through his hair and not bearing to stare at you when he spoke. “You- God,” the corners of his eyes pricked, “you said you loved me. What happened to that?” He glanced at you, hating, hating, hating that you were making him feel this fucking way. Throat tightening, he barked out, “What fucking happened to that?!”

“I don’t love you, Billy,” you muttered, seemingly unaffected by his display of emotions. “I could never.”

And you saw it. He knew you saw it. He knew you saw it because he wiped it away, and your eyes had followed his hand as he had. 

He was crying. Goddammit, he was so fucking weak. 

Despite it all, despite every single horrible moment in his life, he never knew the feeling of true despair until you were taking your love for him back and saying it wasn’t real. 

“Billy, come on.” Your tone was persuasive, placating like you were trying to reason with him. You were talking to him as though you were telling a child that Santa or the Easter Bunny wasn’t real, that they never were, and they never will be. 

You used that same soothing, calming tone the first time you tried to convince Billy that you did love him. He remembered your exact words. “I love you, and no matter how much you fight me on it, I won’t let you take that away from me.” You had been caressing a fresh bruise on his cheek, and the kiss you had left there had overpowered the pain of his father’s wound. 

“Don’t,” Billy mumbled. “Stop.”

Don’t corrupt that voice, he pleaded, though the words wouldn’t escape him. Don’t take that away from me.

“Billy.” You drew his attention back to you, and, despite the stiffness of his cheeks and lips, he sneered at your pitying gaze. “Be realistic. How could I have ever loved you?”

“Stop.”

“Your father hates you, Billy.” Your voice raised, eyes burning with a new fire into his own watery ones. “Your own mother left you. Do you know what that makes you?”

“Stop.”

“Do you know what that makes you, Billy?” you demanded, teeth bared. “It makes you unloveable.”

“STOP!”

“Billy?”

“STOP!” Billy flinched awake, sweat dripping down his forehead and spine, shivering at the breeze of his bedroom. Chest heaving, his eyes were wild and unfocused as they darted about the dark room, few objects such as his dresser and desk only visible due to the moonlight filtering through his window. 

Sighing heavily, Billy dragged his hands down his face, groaning softly and massaging his temples. 

“What a fuckin’ nightmare,” he grumbled before peering over at you. 

You, still curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully. Your hair splayed out along one of his pillows, one of his shirts wrinkled and twisted around your form, your leg still crooked over his hips. 

You were still his. Thank fuck, you were still his. 

“YN,” he shook you awake, one hand on your shoulder.

You hummed in your sleep, lips twitching downwards at the disturbance. “Wha…?” you grumbled, not bothering to open your eyes. 

“Babe, c’mon, let’s go for a drive. Wake up.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned. 

“Yessss.”

“Can I sleep on the drive?”

He raised a brow. “You think you’ll be able to?”

One eye of yours peeked open, focusing on him instantly. You pouted.

Billy’s chest tightened, but for the first time since the dream, he felt like he could breathe. Thank God. He was not going to sleep another wink tonight. Not in that damned house, at least. 

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. Stop giving me your little puppy dog eyes.” You rolled off the bed, falling onto the floor with a thud before rising to your feet and wrapping a blanket around your head and shoulders like a cloak. “But there are ground rules, mister.” You held up your hand to him. “One, you can’t drive over 30 miles an hour. Two, no loud music- or, wait, no music at all-”

“What?”

“-Three, only for the next hour or so, then we’re going back to my place to go to sleep.” You gave him a pointed look. “Deal?”

His lips sloped into his usual smirk as he rose to his feet, arms instantly moving to wrap around your waist and tug you into his chest, close and tight. 

“Deal.”

You. You, you, you. God, he never wanted to think about that nightmare again, and if he never again heard the words “I hate you” fall from your lips, even as a joke, it would be too soon. You were still his, and he knew, he fucking knew, dammit, that you loved him.

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“Don’t ask.”

Steve Harrington: 

“Steve,” Robin muttered softly. Her gaze was downcast, and she had one arm around the front of his chest and shoulders, trying to hold him back and redirect him. “Don’t look.”

“What’s going on?” He tried to peer around the others, all of whom either had their backs turned or looked at him mournfully. “Hey, what’s-” he tried to push past Robin, but Dustin rushed forward to help stop him, “-what the hell is going on?! Guys?!”

They all stood in a half circle around… something, he couldn’t see what. The kids and Nancy and Goddamn everyone except-

“YN,” Steve breathed out in realization. His heart was stuck in his throat, and the pounding of his own blood drowned out the quiet whispers of the others. “No. No, no, no, no—NO!” He shoved past the pairs of arms, pushing past a tearful Max and a sobbing Eleven, only to feel his whole body flinch back at the sight. 

“YN,” he whispered again, horrified at the sight, not wanting to believe it. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh God.”

Blood was- was everywhere. Steve’s knees wobbled and gave out as he collapsed into the forest floor beside you. His hands hovered over your body, feeling the heat rolling off it in waves from the gushes of hot, crimson liquid seeping from obscured wounds. A pool of it, he realized, dampened the knees of his jeans, cooling against his skin. 

“Steve,” you whimpered, “I’m scared. It hurts so bad.” You trembled, hands curled into tight fists as you clenched your eyes shut, tears trailing down into your sweat-soaked hair. 

“This isn’t right—you can’t… fuck.” He tore a hand through his brown tufts before springing into action, scraping himself along the damp soil to ease his legs underneath your back, your body lying perpendicular to his so he could lean your head in his lap. 

“YN, I…” he trailed off, gasping for air as his wavering hands encompassed your face. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked out helplessly. 

And you reached up to grasp his wrist, eyes so innocent and terrified. “Steve, please, I don’t wanna die.”

“This was never supposed to happen,” he rambled indignantly. “No no no because I was supposed to protect you because I always protect you, and now this is going so, so fucking wrong.” He felt the oncoming headache that arrived with fresh tears, the snot dribbling down his nose and onto his upper lip, the cold sweat that covered his body head to toe. He wanted to throw up and sob and hold you close and tight and never, never fucking let you go. 

His own heart, as you lay in his arms, was being ripped from his chest. No help was coming, there was no time to heal or press on what was already far too damaged to halt. You were… you were…

“Please,” you wailed, your screams echoing into the forest. He could hear the others shuffling around behind him, their own sobs fading into the mix. “No, please, I don’t wanna die! Steve, please!”

Steve could feel your cheeks getting colder, and he watched as your hands slowly began to unfurl at your sides. “YN, I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me, I can’t-” his own whimper cut himself off. 

“Steve,” you gasped for breath, your voice so small, so weak. “You said you would protect me.” The furrow in your brow smoothed itself out, and your chest began to slow its heaving movements. 

“I know, I know,” he weeped. “I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”

“You love me?” you whispered back. Your eyes, that had been locked on his for so long, filled with fear and anguish, shifted away, losing themselves in the black sky above. A small smile broke out on your bloodstained lips. 

“YN?” Steve questioned fearfully, sniveling as he peeled the hair away from your face. 

“I never knew that you loved me, Steve.” A single tear broke loose from your eyelids as you let them droop closed. “I love…” You mouthed the word you before you sighed, your body finally losing all of its tension, its stress—its fear.

Steve let out a quivering breath, his hands cupping your cheeks swiftly. “YN? YN?!”

“Steve.” A hand pressed on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off viciously. 

“YN!” He peeled back your eyelids, blanching at the blank look in your irises. “No, no, come on, I was supposed to protect you!” he cried out hysterically. 

Steve’s body curled over yours like he was collapsing in on himself, mouth mumbling pleas as he slid a hand over your chest, above your heart. 

Nothing.

“Steve!” The hand on his shoulder was more insistent, shaking him back and forth violently. 

No. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now, not yet.

“Steve, wake up!”

“What?” Steve’s eyes flew open, and his head straightened up from the back of the couch, causing Dustin to yelp and jump back in shock. 

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” the younger boy screeched, leaving Steve wincing and pressing two hands to his ears. 

“Goddamn,” he hissed, “You really need to hit puberty faster; these voice cracks of yours are gonna leave me deaf one of these days.”

“Well it’s not my fault you sleep like a bear in hibernation.”

“Ew, what? That's disgusting, Dustin,” Steve grimaced. 

Dustin facepalmed. “You’re thinking of ‘heat,’ genius, I said ‘hibernation.’”

Steve faltered, nodding absentmindedly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, anyways,” he rolled his eyes, “you better head home.”

“Movie night over already?” Steve dug his palms against his eyes, trying harshly to wipe away the image of—er, that happening to you—from his mind. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dustin deadpanned, “Princess Leia changed out of her bikini about two hours ago, but I’m glad you were paying attention.”

“Well, look, if it makes you feel any better, the dream I just had was terrible,” Steve groaned, rising up from the coach and grabbing his jacket off the coffee table. 

“Yeah, I heard. Something about ‘oh no’ and ‘don’t leave’ and ‘YN, YN, YN.’” The tween rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you ask me, I’d say just ask her out already, ‘cause your pining from a distance is getting pretty depressing.”

Steve stared at him with pursed lips and blank, dead eyes. 

Then he fondled for his car keys in his jacket pocket and huffed. “Yep, I’m gonna go. See ya around, Henderson.”

“I’m serious, Steve!” Dustin called after him. “It’s getting creepy! Why don’t you just tell her that you’re absolutely whipped for-”

Steve slammed the door of his house, trekking towards his car while grumbling under his breath. “Frickin’ Dustin. I’m not whipped. Nobody,” he slid into the seat of his car, staring into the rearview mirror and adjusting it, “nobody has ever had me…” he paused, staring at his bloodshot eyes, at his tear-stained cheeks. 

“Fuck.” He glanced back at Dustin’s house, its windows still open and flashing with the action of a movie.

Goddammit, Henderson. 

Steve put his car into drive, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, but when he slowed at his usual turn, he slammed the brakes on the car instead and stared at the sign of the intersecting street. 

You lived almost two blocks from there—Steve never realized that. 

He could—no, no he couldn’t. It was the middle of the night, around eleven o’clock according to his dash, so why in the world did he have the right to wake you up for news like that?

It can wait. His feelings can wait.

He said those exact words ten more times as he drove to your house, clumsily throwing it into park alongside the sidewalk in front of your home. He knew which window corresponded with your room, as aside from being the group babysitter and helicopter mother, he was also the chauffeur. 

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. “This is so dumb; this is a terrible idea. One of the worst, actually.” 

But he picked up the pebble out of your garden and chucked it at your window anyway, pure adrenaline launching the rock at a high speed and making perfect contact with the middle of the glass.

It also left a sizable crack.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed under his breath, hands flying up to his hair as he saw your light switch on. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The window slid up, and before he knew it, your glare found his form. Your head was leaned outside of the window, hands braced against the sill as you whisper-shouted at him. “Seriously, Steve?! What the fuck?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he jogged closer to your house, questioning scaling the side to climb into your window, but then he noticed your tangled, matted hair and nightshirt. “Yeah, that’s my bad, I, uh,” he chuckled nervously, “sometimes I forget my own strength.” He shrugged lamely. 

You gestured angrily at the window. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?”

This is going so wrong. Dammit, he knew this wouldn’t go well. 

“YN,” he called out to you, trying to get your attention as you investigated the crack with a sigh. 

“What, genius? Got another grand idea?” you snarked. “Why don’t you go break the locks off my front door too while you're at it-”

“YN, I’m in love with you.”

You choked on your next words, eyes flying open. “What?!”

“I’m just- I’m in love with you, and I really wanted you to know that.”

While he shifts back and forth on his feet, your mouth bobs open and closed. 

“Are you serious?” you finally land on. 

“Don’t call me Shirley?” he offered back lamely, and you dragged a hand down the front of your face. 

Nonetheless, you wore a wide, abashed grin. “You’re a goddamn fool, Steve Harrington.”

Steve shook his head and smiled at that. “Only for you, babe.”

“Now go home and go to sleep so I can kiss you tomorrow, dumbass,” you waved him away. 

A stupid, lovesick smirk took over his face, painting him the absolute dope you always pegged him as. “Sounds like a plan, doll.” He spun around, swallowing a large gulp of air and wondering if you could see the way his hands shook as he unlocked his car. 

“Steve! Wait!”

 He turned back, almost too eager, to see a large blush blooming on your face in the light of your room. “I love you too.”

What a horrible, terrible, shitty-ass, perfectly timed nightmare.