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grimalkinmessor · 9 months

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Do you have any headcanons about either of Kira's biggest fans, Misa and Mikami?

To be completely honest with you, I only originally came up with headcanons for Light, Near, Ryuk, Mello, and Beyond—BUT so far I've been good at coming up with shit on the fly so HERE WE GO! :D

✂️ -Misa and her parents were on vacation in France when her parents were killed, but because of them being tourists and Misa not speaking French very well, her witness testimony was heavily compromised. That's why the man who killed her parents was almost let go before Kira killed him. BUT, given that Misa was stuck in a different country with no parents, no translator, and no idea how to access her parents money, she couldn't get back to Japan afterwards, so she was stuck in France. That's where she was supposed to die—attacked by some random stalker in a foreign country—before Gelus saved her.

✂️ -Connected to the one above: Misa dyed her hair blonde because, while in France, someone approached her about becoming a model for their brand, and Misa, low on money at that point, said yes. This introduced Misa to the modelling industry, and she quickly discovers how fucking cutthroat it is. She finishes the first job but has the second snatched from her by an uppity French girl. Blonde hair and blue eyes are all the rage nowadays, you know? And sex is what sells, not generic prudish goth bitches, doesn't she know? Misa takes that to heart, dyes her hair, takes a pair of scissors to her wardrobe and comes back on scene looking like sex and death on legs. Needless to say, she steals her gig back fairly quickly. AND proceeds to rub it in that French bitch's face :) Fuck you Yves.

✂️ -After a guy dies right in front of her, Misa dives deeper into the occult. She already had a taste for witchy aesthetics, but she kept it to a minimum for her parent's sake. But when Kira comes to light and people start dying all around Misa, she decides that now is very much a time to buy all those voodoo and spell books that she always made herself walk past. She starts looking into Kira and trying to find him through tracking spells, but that doesn't work because she doesn't have anything concrete. She curses several of her modelling rivals just for fun, but she doesn't get into anything really nasty becauuuuse Rem shows up :3 With a murder notebook :3 And so Misa abruptly loses all interest in regular magic.

✂️ -Misa is bisexual, but she is so fucking repressed about it man, it's insane. She keeps telling herself that the burning feeling in her gut she feels every time she gets a glimpse of a fellow model's naked shoulder, her long neck, the curves of her legs, is rage. Obviously. This is begrudging jealousy brewing in her chest, maybe even hatred or competitiveness, definitely not attraction. Even though it may feel similar to the attraction she has for pretty men, it's totally not the same thing. Totally not. (Imagine the 'Starting Fights Because The Guy Girl is Hot And I Want Her On Me' meme and picture Misa starting shit with her fellow models).

✂️ -Misa is your stereotypical yandere. She and Light are similar in the way that they both are used to everyone falling in love with them, wanting to be with them, even trying to force themselves upon them, but neither of them are very used to rejection. But where Light has been taught by his father to take rejection (not humiliation, there's a difference) with grace, Misa has quite literally never been rejected before. You cannot reject her. She has learned to fight viciously for what she wants, and she can and will do anything to get whatever and/or whoever she decides that she wants. If that means killing someone, then she's laying out a tarp and selecting her sharpest knife. If that means locking you in her basement, she's putting tranqs in your tea and tying you up. Light's manipulation and lies are the only thing keeping him from being chained to the radiator in Misa's apartment. Though, being kidnapped by Misa and having her handfeed you in an alluring maid dress to try and Stockholm you into loving her doesn't sound so bad to me 👀 (Yes I'm a simp for hot villains leave me alone).

⚖️ -Mikami is canonically incredibly smart, but I picture him as less intrinsically smart and more as someone who worked extremely hard to get where they are. Mikami has very rigid societal views, and he's had them from a very young age, so it makes sense for him to have practically planned out his whole life in the way that he's always known exactly what he wanted to do. He was a very studious student, more so even than Light, because even Light made it a point to be social. Mikami's smarts are hard earned, but still incredibly impressive.

⚖️ -Mikami is known for going to the gym routinely and being strong (being jacked in a profession where you don't need to be jacked) but what you DON'T know is that Mikami took up body building so he could beat the absolute fuck out of people. In Mikami's backstory, we see him defend people from bullies repeatedly, even to the point where his other classmates abandoned him. I imagine getting beat up all the time doesn't feel good, so once Mikami realized that no one was gonna side with him anymore, he took up a rigorous exercise routine in his late teens. He even enrolled himself in a martial arts class to learn how to fight. Mikami got into ONE (1) more fight after that, and he fucked the other guy up so bad that no one else even wanted to get near him. If you're bullying someone in the hallway and Mikami Teru rolls up, you fucking sprint the other away.

⚖️ -After his mother died, Mikami was moved in with an estranged Uncle. The Uncle was fairly neglectful but Mikami enjoyed the freedom—it was certainly a better alternative to his mother always scolding him and punishing him for coming home with bruises and scrapes. Mikami was basically taking care of himself at fifteen and he liked it that way. He moved out at eighteen, and when his Uncle was arrested for drunk driving and tax evasion two years later, Mikami was the prosecutor that put him in prison. Not because he resented him, but because he was just another filthy criminal on trial.

⚖️ -Due to all the time he spends studying and living for the Grind™ (Jesus Christ someone knock this man out and take him on vacation) Mikami is a coffee fiend. He is feral for it. He has to brew his own coffee at home because the one time he got to the office and the coffee pot was empty he broke it. Maybe by accident, maybe on purpose; he doesn't really remember because the pre-coffee fog is fucking REAL. Mikami will fist fight you over coffee. But usually he doesn't have to because if someone gets to the pot before him he can just,,,,pick them up and move them (very gently) out of the way. However, every six months he has this whole health crisis where he goes on a coffee detox and becomes a tea drinker instead—like a werewolf but for tea. Teawolf 🍵—and he feels really good for a while... BUT then he eventually has to take another all nighter and the coffee demon Reawakens™.

⚖️ -Mikami has mild sociopathy. And I don't mean in the "Oh my God he's insane run!!!" type of way—I literally mean the actual disorder. Mikami has lowered emotional responses and empathy. It makes it really hard for him to connect with people, especially if they don't share a common interest, which means that even though Mikami is successful and fit and pretty—he has no friends. He occasionally goes out to bars whenever the loneliness gets to be too much, but he always leaves vaguely unsettled and frustrated because he just can't connect with people properly. He's had a few girlfriends before, but they all dumped him eventually because he puts his work first. (Of course, when you're Mikami's God boss this is the opposite of a problem ♥️). Given Japan's godawful stance on mental health, Mikami's never been diagnosed, and honestly he most likely wouldn't want to be, even to get help with it. It would hurt his reputation too badly.

#asks #anonymous #death note #amane misa #mikami teru #death note headcanons #headcanons #character headcanons #for how much i love them you'd think id have more for them 😭

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pixie-dust-and-pain · 2 years

Text

The Technicalities Of Kissing Girls

Sumary: Adora and Catra sitting on a tree F-A-L-L-I-N-G

a/n:

based off a comment on red chrysanthemum (ao3 series. should i post it here???? milf adora???) like yes. this is quality content. i love you. this is for you. (rainbowlake on ao3 is my bb)

ALSO I FIND THIS SO FUCMING FUNNY NOT ADORA THINKING KISSING GIRLS HAS DIFFERENT WAYS LIKE PLS BITCH ONLY THING YOUVE EVER KISSED IS CATRA'S ASS STFU

also i accidentally wrote the forbidden forest instead of the whispering woods so now this is hp (ew jk rolling

ANOTHER THING: when my bf kissed me for the first time she said "you're a horrible kisser" then kissed me again and said "dw we can practice" and this was like a year ago and i still dream abt that. I'm dfkjfbkjghkgf

Adora can't remember the last time she's spoken this much. Her jaw hurts from the effort, and her cheeks ache, having smiled far too much for far too long. It doesn't bother her, really, given that it's because of Catra.

She's so irrationally happy it's almost funny. Actually, it is funny, because Catra laughed when Adora snorted, so it must be. This is nothing new, the tree branch beneath her hands, hard wood digging into her thighs, the cold wind blowing at her face as she shoves leaves away, but it all feels precious. She feels drunk. Drunk not on alcohol (though she's sure Catra is), but rather on happiness.

Laughter bubbling up inside of her, too much to contain, her grin never faltering as she leans onto Catra. It's too much. The happiness, it's overflowing, too much to contain within her body. It doesn't matter, she doesn't care. They're young and stupid, this is what they're supposed to be doing. Getting drunk and looking at the sky, sitting on a random tree in the Whispering Woods, trying to form shapes and constellations.

"Mara," Catra had murmured when Adora had told her how the stars were shaped like a woman, and Adora had immediately wanted to kiss her. That's been happening a lot lately, her being overcome with the urge to kiss Catra. Almost everything Catra does makes Adora want to kiss her.

She stares at Catra, now, and wonders for the umpteenth time that night how she's able to breathe when Catra looks like that. Her hair blows slightly with the wind, the short strands somehow falling perfectly into place, unlike her own, which get in her mouth and on her eyes every so often.

The sun has set a long time ago, but the little torch they hold illuminates them both well enough. Adora almost wishes it didn't. Almost.

Catra's hair is like chocolate, dark strands twisting and merging with the others, her hair different shades due to the light, soft and fluffy, and Adora has to fight the urge to reach out and touch them. Her skin glows under the torchlight, the harsh yellow of it soft on her features, tanned warm skin looking so beautiful she wants to cry. Catra, everything about her is just so right and so perfect it makes her want to cry. The light only exaggerates her lashes, their shadows clearly visible on her cheek as she blinks slowly, tired. Blue and yellow eyes shine, one like liquid gold, gleaming in the dark, and the other as though someone has taken the sky and placed it in her eyes. Her eyes contain the whole world. Adora turns pink, suddenly shy. She feels like a child with a crush.

She continues admiring Catra, staring shamelessly. She's confessed now, hasn't she, despite the whole ordeal being so painful? She has a right to stare.

She stares at the slope of Catra's neck, the dark material covering it, hugging her skin. She stares at the bare skin of Catra's arms, the two marks on her bicep and the slight muscles. She's more lean than muscular. She looks small, too, arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them to her chest.

Small. Catra isn't small-the word just doesn't fit her.

Vertically challenged, Adora muses.

She stares a little more than necessary at Catra's cleavage. It isn't her fault; she's practised years of restraint. Just a peak shouldn't hurt (she can practically hear Glimmer mocking her, even in her head, for how pathetically whipped she is). The suit cinches at the waist, and Adora stares at that for a long time too. She wants to hug Catra from behind, she wants to wrap an arm around that waist, maybe just hold it. She needs to stop.

But it's been years since she's been happy with Catra. Sometimes, when she was in the rebellion, she dreaded it. She hated Bow and she hated Glimmer and she hated herself for hating them, but maybe if they were a little cruel, a little evil, a little bit like anything they Horde had told her that they were, maybe she wouldn't have left Catra. Maybe she and Catra could've been happy. It's futile, she knows it is, and incredibly selfish, too, but maybe they both would've been spared a lot of pain had they both just stayed put.

She glances at Catra again, who's staring back at her. Catra grins at her, and Adora beams back, her smile dopey and huge. Catra's smile makes her happy, everything about Catra makes her happy. Funny, that is, before all Catra managed to do was make her sad. Sad, upset, and guilty. Guilty for leaving her behind, knowing that Catra's pride and hurt would never let her turn her back on the Horde, guilty for hurting her, knowing there was no other way.

She's filled with a strange feeling. It's more than happiness, more than anything, she watches the way Catra's nimble fingers tear at the peel of the fruit in front of her, the little sparkle of wonder in her eyes as she bites into it. Catra has recently discovered what fruit is, and she is obsessed. Wait until she finds out about cake.

She smiles when Catra's tongue peeks out, a quick flash of pink, to lick the juice from her lips and she purrs, her whole body vibrating. All the pain she's been through is worth it, she thinks, if it's for Catra.

She wants to be with her so badly it hurts. She wants to hug her and kiss her and hold her hand and talk with her for hours, and she wants to make up for lost time and shower her with love all the time to make up for the times she couldn't. She just wants to touch her. She wants to trace her fingers up and down her spine, lift her up and spin her in circles, she wants to be wrapped up in her as she rests, she wants to hold her so badly it aches her. She wonders if that's a little pathetic of her.

She remembers the kiss they shared at the Heart of Etheria, it was a gentle press of lips, more than a peck but not a full-on make-out session either. She wants to recreate it again, she wants to press herself flush against Catra, wants to feel her soft lips under her own, wants to run a hand through her hair and wrap another around her waist. She wants to kiss her so bad it hurts.

She's too scared to do it, though.

She reaches for her hand instead. Catra's palm meets her halfway, their hands awkwardly trying to slot themselves into place, hungry for the intimacy. They don't fit right in perfectly on the first try, rather, Catra's nail scratches the side of her palm, and it takes them a minute to adjust themselves. It's worth it, though, at the end, when Catra slightly squeezes Adora's hand, and Adora swears her heart skips a beat.

Catra turns to look at her, and smiles slowly, hesitantly. Adora smirks back.

"Aw, you totally have a crush on me," she says, teasing, because she doesn't know how to be sappy and sweet and romantic with Catra, because that isn't them, and because she likes the way Catra's ears turn red and her tail spikes up, "How embarrassing, "

Catra bristles, "We're literally dating!" she exclaims, glaring at Adora in mock annoyance.

Adora sighs, the stupid smirk still on her face, "Still,"

She looks at Catra, still grinning, and she can hear the blood rushing in her ears and her heart pounding in her chest, threatening to claw out of her ribcage and come out. She's sure Catra can hear it, too. Dammit.

She's afraid she'll do something she regrets, she's afraid she'll kiss Catra. She chooses to focus on the soft way Catra's ears are shaped, mentally repeating the same mantra: do not kiss her. She thinks she'll do it anyway, and the thought scares her. And then Catra kisses her.

Or, rather, Catra leans in for a kiss, and Adora's brain malfunctions. She doesn't know how to kiss a girl. How does it even work? Is a girl's mouth different than a boy's (although she's never kissed a boy, either, but she's sure it's a lot simpler than kissing Catra)? She panics, and then does what anybody else in her place would do, she slams her face into Catra's. Catra gasps before they're both set off-balance, hurtling to the floor and off the tree branch they sat on at full speed.

Catra yelps, grabbing onto Adora's hand as her other one grips the branch. They're dangling off the branch with only Catra's hand holding them up.

Adora gapes up at the branch, then squints, "Is that a mouse?"

Catra squeaks, terrified, letting go of the branch in a panic, and they both come crashing down. Fuck.

Adora groans in pain, and barely registers Catra on top of her until she feels her move.

"Ow," Catra huffs, then looks down at her, smirking, thankfully not upset and rather amused. "Hey Adora,"

Adora clears her throat, "Hi,"

"Why so aggresive?" she asks, head tilted to the side as she stares at her intently.

Adora's grateful that she isn't standing up, because she's sure that her knees would buckle if she was, "Um, I-"

"You know," Catra drawls, "If you don't want to kiss me, you could just say so instead of slamming my teeth in with your head, we all take time to-"

"No!" Adora grabs at Catra's hands, wincing slightly at the pain that shoots up her side at the sudden movement, "No, no, no. I don't-it's not like that! I do want to kiss you, I want to so bad but I don't know how to kiss a girl, you know? And I don't want to disappoint you and..." she trails off when Catra chuckles pressing a chaste kiss at her temple.

Adora gulps, the nervousness crawling back as she tries to control her breathing. At this rate, she's going to end up hyperventilating and huffing and puffing into their fucking kiss.

"My love, you're a horrible kisser," Catra mutters quietly, tracing the outline of Adora's face, finger gently brushing against her skin. Adora, pathetically, tries to inch up, to kiss her again to prove otherwise.

"Am not, I'll show you-" Catra cuts her off, pressing herself down on Adora, lips firmly planted on hers as she runs a hand through Adora's hair, fingers slipping through the golden locks. Catra's lips are soft above hers, and she registers how Catra tastes vaguely sweet, like the fruit she was eating, but more than that she tastes so much like Catra it's overwhelming. She pulls back after a long time, and Adora stares up at her, grinning goofily.

"I love you,"

Catra grins at that, pink dusting her cheeks, "I love you too. And I stand by my earlier statement, you're a horrible kisser," She smiles wider at Adora's little huff, and leans down again, lips ghosting over hers, "Don't worry, we can practice,"

I KISSED MY GF THREE TIMES IN FRONT OF OUR WHOLE CLASS TODAY THE COUNTRY WE LIVE IN CAN LEGALLY MURDER YOU FOR BEING GAY I FEEL VERY ANDJSLKNSLD MAYBE LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING YK

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bright-and-burning · 1 month

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💛💉🍊🖇️🌺 mwah

💛 - what is your favorite feature on yourself?

oh man so many choices actually. 13 year old me would be astounded by basically all of them too LOL that's growth baby. my eyes are pretty neat!! i've got heterochromia. i also like my nose (which i Hated when i was younger. i have a similar nose side profile (lmfao) to charles, w like the little bump on the bridge and for some reason i HATED it as a pre-teen). my hair! which i also hated when i was 13. not to be nsfw but my chest? hella nice fr.

💉 - do you have tattoos and/or piercings

i actually don't have either lol. lots of near-misses but never followed through

🍊 - favorite season?

spring!!!! i love warm rain i love when the world starts to wake up i love those random warm days where everybody and their mother spends time outside soaking up the first little bit of sun

🖇️ - what are your favorite asks to answer?

i love talking abt myself obvi. dksjfalkj. but i like getting goofy unhinged ones. or hypotheticals (that road trip ask i got? amazing). i know i havent written anything in a million years but lil prompts are fun. in general i kind of. love chatting? so any ask is fun to me bc it's an excuse to chat!!

🌺 - what is the best gift someone has ever given you and why is it so important

alright so the best gift i've ever been given is more funny than emotional. it was for secret santa my uhhhh junior year of college. and my friend hand made and woodburned it for me :) it's like a combo of several jokes (i use the word bitch as a placeholder noun and also basically as punctuation and also i am incredibly short). this got kind of long so pics under the cut ft my fantastic ikea couch

in terms of gifts that have made me emotional (i am a frequent crier at gifts i won't lie) i've had two relatively recently. the underclassmen from my college team made everyone little like yearbooks? and surprised me w one of my own signed by everyone w little messages even tho i wasn't on the team. it was extremely meaningful to me bc i always really struggle w feeling like i truly belong anywhere? and so to get this personalized yearbook w all of these memories as kind of. proof that i was there, and that i mattered and had an impact and belonged. really meant the world to me. but every picture in that is like self-doxxing so.

the other one was my sister got me this (she's covered up lol) from when we saw the lumineers together at a music festival and both bawled our eyes out. the lumineers have been one of my favorite artists since i was literally 10 years old and i never got to see them live until this. and the song itself is really really meaningful to me ("where we are, i don't know where we are, but it will be okay" was for probably obvious reasons a really comforting refrain as i was finishing college and looking into the complete unknown of the future w no idea what i was doing next) so i literally unwrapped it and started sobbing

get to know me

#ask #ask meme #the way i almost started crying writing abt the yearbook... yeah.#half the pictures are insanely degenerate like mid party nonsense but man. i really was loved u kno? i was important

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darkmulti · 3 years

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hi, can you write yandere! bts reaction to you slapping them in an argument please?

⚠️: Yandere!BTS, slapping, implied smut, manipulation

-> sorry for any mistakes

»»———————————- ♔ -———————————««

Jin

Jin was once again, being narrow minded. “It was for work, Jin! I wasn’t working with him for fun, it’s our job. I can’t believe you punched him in the face. You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

“Great! If you’re embarrassed, quit your job! So you never have to see them again!

“I’m not quitting! You can get that out of your head! I would leave you before quitting-” a hard slap cut you off. You instinctively covered your stinging cheek and took a step back. You were in a state of shock. Yes, you and Jin had petty arguments here and there but they never got physical. By the end of the day, you guys worked it out. However, after he laid his hand on you, you knew it was over. You looked up at him and slapped him right back. “Fuck you! We’re over.”

You turned around and ran upstairs to your shared bedroom. This house was under Jin’s name so it was you who has to go. You grabbed your suitcase and started packing all your clothes. Jin rushed into the shared room and pulled your suitcase away. He dumped all the clothes on the ground and threw the suitcase across the room.

“You’re not fucking leaving! Hang up all these clothes. Stop overreacting like a pathetic little bitch.”

You scoff and get off the floor. “I’m a ‘pathetic little bitch’?! Says my insecure husband.”

“You won’t be able to survive without me. No other man would be able to spoil you like I do. I’ve given you the high life, now obey me in return.”

“I’m not your slave, I don’t have to fucking listen to you.”

“Do you pay the bills in this house?! Do you buy the groceries?! Do you pay for insurance?! No? Then, shut up. You wouldn’t have anything if it weren’t for me. You’d probably be living on the streets if I didn’t take you in. I was the one who made sure you got that job because I knew it would make you happy. If it weren’t for me, those guys would’ve laughed in your face, Y/N. All you do is go to work, flirt with your co-workers and act all big shot around me. The least you could do is respect me and our relationship.” With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving you alone while you questioned your worth.

Yoongi

It started off as a calm and quiet evening but as soon as your phone vibrated, it quickly changed.

You began working for a new company and your new boss has been up your ass. He treats you like a personal assistant and it was pissing you off. You noticed that you were the only one who was being treated like this and it angered you. Once you’re clocked out, you don’t like to be disturbed unless it’s urgent. But your boss doesn’t seem to understand that and asks you to do work while your clocked out. You obviously refuse because why should you do work if you’re not getting paid?

Anyways, he’s always texting you about how to do different kinds of paper work, who’s working, who’s not working, how to hire people, ect — he should know how to do all of it because he’s the boss. When your off work, he’s texting you ever 10-15 minutes, asking for help. You’re tired of it, but can’t really do anything about it. You can’t quit just yet because you’re trying to prove to your boyfriend that you don’t need him to survive.

Yoongi has always underestimated you. Man literally thinks that you’re dumb. One night, you both got into a heated argument and he told you that you wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. The very next day, you went to a bunch of job interviews and got hired on that same day.

It’s been two weeks at your new job and ever since, your phone is always blowing up thanks to your boss. Even at 10pm, your boss is texting you about work. Yoongi became annoyed because you were always on your phone. You guys got into another argument about this so now, you hide your phone from him so he can’t see the notifications.

Ever since then, things have been a little better. Tonight was movie night and you foolishly had your phone in your hand. Throughout the movie, your phone was lighting up and vibrating multiple times and a Yoongi was tired of it.

“Who the hell are you texting now?!” He snatched your phone out of your hands and when he saw that it was your boss, he threw your phone against the wall. “I told you to block that man! Yet, you go against me and continue to text him! Are you sleeping with him? Are you cheating on me with him?!” He screamed, making your heart leap out of your chest.

You didn’t say anything. Instead you ran to the door. You didn’t want to deal with him anymore. You deserved better. You tried to leave but he slammed the door on your fingers and pulled you back inside. You slapped his face and tried leaving again but he grabbed your hair and pulled you down to the basement.

“You made me do this to you. I warned you plenty of times to stay off your phone but do you listen to me? No. I’ve given you too much freedom and now you don’t know how to behave. That stops now.”

Hoseok

“Get up. Boss wants to see you.” The guards said, pulling you up by your arms and dragging you out of the cell. “Boss my asshole. Who does he think he is? Kidnapping me for no good reason. I just wanted coffee and now I’m god knows where!” The guard chuckles at your bratty behaviour. “Just a little advice, don’t talk to boss like that. He’ll blow your brains out.”

“Shut up, muscle head. Don’t tell me what to do.” The guard stops and aims a gun at your head. “Do it muscle head. Your boss will be so proud of you.” You said sarcastically. “Shut your mouth and keep walking. I may not be allowed to kill you but I can still still hurt you — really badly.”

“Are you threatening me muscle head?” You turn around, ready to scrap with the guard. He may be a lot bigger than you, but you’re a lot smarter and clever.

“Hey, hey, do we have a problem here?” A familiar voice interrupted. You turn around and your heart drops when you see his face. “No, boss. She’s just refusing to-”

“Hoseok?” You cut the guard off and step back. “Oh, so you still remember me?” He smirks and walks towards you but you keep walking back. “What do you want from me?”

“Isn’t the answer obvious? I want you back.”

“No! I broke up with you because you’re crazy. Leave me alone now. I’m a different person. I’m not the same Y/N that you manipulated and controlled. I left her behind. Now let me go!”

Hoseok cornered you. There was no where to run. “Are you sure that you left her behind? You’re claiming that you changed but you’re still very naive, darling.”

His words made your blood boil. Hoseok mentally and emotionally abused you. With the help of therapy, you were able to pick up and put your broken self together. You thought that you’ve become a stronger person, but as soon as you saw his face, your confidence was washed away.

“I- I told you, I’m different now!” You tried to sound brave, but your facial expression sold you out. Hoseok wasn’t dumb; he knew you were scared shitless. “So, show me that your a different person. How will you escape me this time, darling?” He traps you in between his arms and leans in close to your face. In a panic, you slapped him across the face and made a run for it.

You somehow managed to get out of his large mansion, but Hoseok was running after you the whole time. You tried losing him at sharp turns and big crowds, but he was right on your ass. You saw a security guard and bolted towards him. “Sir, sir! There’s a- a man...” you said, to catch your breath, “a man chasing me. He kidnapped me. Please, I need your help.”

“That’s enough darling.” Hoseok caught up to you and without a second thought, you hid behind the security guard. “Sir, please! Arrest this man! He kidnapped me!”

The security guard was ready to take action until he saw the man’s face. “M-mr. Jung?! Sir, I had no idea that she was running from you! Sir, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!” The guard grabbed your arm and pushed you to Hoseok.

The commotion had everyone watching. The security guard was on his knees with his hands interlocked together. “Please spare my family and I. Mr. Jung it was an honest mistake.”

“What the hell?” You quietly muttered. “You see that, darling. Everyone is afraid of me. So you can run all you want, but you can never ever hide from me.”

Namjoon

After a long week of work, your husband wanted to treat you to dinner. You’ve both been extremely busy due to your hectic schedule and it’s caused you both to drift apart. The only time you see Namjoon is in the morning and before going to bed.

It was Friday evening and you were getting ready for date night. You wore a gorgeous dress that was somewhat revealing but you were fine with it. You just wanted to look good for your husband.

You both agreed to meet at the restaurant and when Namjoon saw you, his jaw dropped. He possessively wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to your private table. It was outside on a balcony. You guys had an ocean view, the weather was perfect and the stars were out. It was super romantic.

The date was perfect until the waiter started checking you out. Namjoon was visibly annoyed by the waiter but kept it to himself until he left. “Why did you have to wear that dress? Are you doing this on purpose? So other guys can check you out?” You were taken back by his questions. “No, I wore this dress for you, not for some random men.”

Namjoon scoffed and bit the inside of his cheek. “When will you stop lying?” He mumbled, but you were able to pick it up. “I’m not lying, Joon. And quite frankly, I’m hurt that you think I’m doing this for other men. You’re making me feel bad about myself.”

You got up and left but he followed behind. You walked out of the restaurant and got into your car. You drove back home without giving Namjoon a second glance. Once you arrived home, Namjoon pulled up next to your car. You both entered the house in silence.

Namjoon’s phone began ringing so, he went upstairs to answer it. After tidying the house, you went upstairs and overheard his conversation. “We could’ve had a wonderful night, but my wife doesn’t know how to dress.”

Now, he’s pissed you off. You slam open the room door, grab his phone and hang up. “Do you enjoy putting your own wife down?! Do you enjoy humiliating her?! I wore this dress for you! I wanted to look good for you! I wanted you to complement me and tell me I look pretty but instead you slut shame me!”

Out of anger, you slap him across the face. “I want a divorce. I’m not staying with someone who made me feel like complete shit. You can keep this house, I don’t want anything from you.”

Namjoon looked down and started to laugh. His laugh gradually got louder and it started to creep you out. You took a couple steps away from him but he noticed and grabbed your wrist. “You want a divorce? So you can go back to that restaurant and gets that waiters number? Over my dead body. You’re never leaving me. If I have to hurt you, I will.”

Jimin

“Jimin! Stop it! You’re overreacting!”

Jimin dragged you out of his friends house and pushed you into the car, creating a scene. Everyone was watching him degrade you for not wearing your wedding ring.

“You forgot?! What kind of wife do I have?! Are you dumb?! How could you forgot to wear your wedding ring?! That ring shows everyone that you’re mine!”

Jimin was full on screaming in your face and you couldn’t handle it. You broke down crying into your hands. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! It truly wasn’t my intention.” You were beyond terrified. You didn’t want to go home because you knew he would punish you. Even though he humiliated in front of everyone, you’d rather stay around people than go home and be alone with him.

You were about to go down on your knees until he slapped you and dragged you along. You tried getting out of his grip and in the process you accidentally slapped him. It wasn’t a hard slap or anything, you were just trying to get away. But of course, Jimin made it a big deal.

“First, you forgot your wedding ring; second, you flirted with all my friends and now, you slapped me?! Why don’t you want to leave, huh?! Who are you sleeping with?! Who are you trying to replace me with?!”

“No one! I didn’t mean to slap you! I’m sorry!” You were crying your eyes out. You’ve never seen Jimin this aggravated. You were afraid of what he might do to you so, you gave in because you didn’t want to worsen your punishment. He pushed you into the car and slammed the door shut. Throughout the car ride, his hand squeezed your thigh.

“You don’t even know what’s coming your way. Just wait till we get home” He muttered, causing your heart to drop into your stomach.

Taehyung

“Taehyung! Let me go! People are going to notice that I’m missing! You can’t keep me here forever!” You yelled, banging on the metal door.

It was your foolish mistake; trying to break up with him at his house. The moment you told him you want to part ways, he grabbed you and pushed you into the basement. Of course you fought back, but miserably lost against him. Now it was a game of waiting. Waiting for someone to notice your presence missing.

- 3 days later -

It been a couple days and you’re still locked in the basement. There was no clock or a window so you couldn’t keep track of time. Taehyung hadn’t come downstairs to check on you either. You were starving and living off the bathroom tap water. You were lying on the ground, looking lifeless when the heavy metal doors opened.

“Are you done playing your childish games?” Taehyung asked, crossing his arms. “You should be asking yourself that question, Taehyung. I’m not playing any games. I’m serious when I say I want out of this relationship.”

Taehyung closed the doors and walked towards you. He grabbed your shirt and pulled you close to his face. “All the years we spent together, you wanna throw it all away, angel?”

You turn your head away from him, avoiding his dark orbs. Taehyung noticed you avoiding his eyes so he pushed you against the wall and leaned in close to your face. “Look at me when I talk to you, angel. Or are you scared?” You were on the verge of tears but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. You looked him straight in the eyes and muttered, “get away from me.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, angel...” he grabbed your ear and tugged on it, “I’m your master. You listen to me.” His deep voice sent chills down your spine. You were close to dropping on your knees and submitting to him out of fear. But you didn’t. You couldn’t show him that you’re weak. “Taehyung, I’m serious! Get away from me!”

Taehyung frowned. You were really getting on his nerve. Was he not a good boyfriend? He spoiled you with gifts, spent all his time with you and he never cheated on you. What was he doing wrong? He thought to himself. “Why is my perfect, little, angel acting out? Look at me, angel. Tell me what I did wrong? Did you fall out of love? Did you find someone new?”

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Taehyung, you’re trying to control me! You’re making my decisions for me. I can’t go out alone, and if I do, you stalk me! Then you get possessive for no reason! You almost killed my bestfriend because he gave me a hug! You take things too far and you don’t trust me even after being together for years! You just want to control my life and feel like I’m suffocating when I’m with you.”

You could see fire in Taehyung’s eyes. He raised his hand, ready to slap you but before he could, you slapped him and ran for your life. You were light headed and weak, however if Taehyung finds you, you’ll face severe consequences.

Jungkook

Jungkook was going on and on about you going out with your male bestfriend.

You texted Jungkook last minute because you knew if you had told him earlier, he wouldn’t allow you to go. You simply messaged him, “I’m going out with Namjoon, I’ll be home by 6pm.”

Jungkook was livid. He called you multiple times but you were too scared to pick up. Finally, his 7th attempt was when you decided to pick up.

“Where the fuck are you?! I’m coming to pick you up right now.”

“Jungkook we just came to the restaurant, I’m not leaving.”

“Do you think it’s appropriate to go to a restaurant with another man?! What if people think you guys are dating, huh? You’re a fucking cheater. Tell me your location, now!”

“For the love of god, I’m not cheating on you! Namjoon and I have known each other since middle school. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you. We are nothing but friends.”

Jungkook was pissed. He hung up the phone and went home. He poured himself a glass of whiskey before sitting down on the couch. He was waiting for your arrival. It was 5:54pm when the front door opened. You were right on time.

“See, I told you I’d be back by 6pm. I don’t know why you have to make everything such a big deal.”

“While I’m working my ass off, you’re out with another man.” He said, putting the glass of whiskey down.

“I work too, Jungkook. And I’m a full time student. If you want to get even with me, go out with your female friends. I wouldn’t mind at all. As long as they remain friends.”

Jungkook stood up and starting walking towards you. “So, you can cheat, but I can’t?” A taunting smile took over his face.

“Again, Jungkook? I am not cheating on you! Namjoon is just my close friend. That’s all. Nothing more or less.” You said, crossing your arms and unconsciously stepping back.

“Stop lying. Just tell me now and maybe I’ll forgive you.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “I don’t have time to deal with you, Jungkook. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking around with Namjoon, right?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You turned around to leave but Jungkook pulled you back, harshly. Instinctively, your hand landed a heavy slap on his face. Unexpectedly, Jungkook slapped you right back — but a lot harder.

You winced as you held your warm cheek. Hot tears gliding down your face. Without thinking twice, you made a run for the door but Jungkook tackled you to the floor.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!”

You can make your own ending:)

#dark bts #bts yandere reaction #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts smut #bts reaction #yandere bts reaction

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wolferine · 3 years

Text

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 4

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood, torture

Word count: 2843

Part 3

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp @phoenixofash @marvels-bitch-boy @when-wolves-howl @bitterlime13 @hallecarey1 @orangewheein @unexpected-character

AN: I apologize if some tags don’t work! Tumblr can’t find some of your usernames.

After listening to Steve’s plan, all four of you—technically five, since Bucky had to tag along—take the Quinjet to Siberia. The goal was to break out the five soldiers in Bucky’s former task force and bring them back to the Avengers Tower, where there was the technology to free their minds from HYDRA.

Each of you were armed with a mask which would spray a powerful sedative into the face it was applied to, keeping the victim unconscious until it was removed. It was the simplest solution to taking down the super soldiers—when Bucky had been skeptical, Natasha had slapped a mask on him and he was out before he hit the floor. You were pretty sure you pulled a muscle from laughing so hard.

Now, you and Natasha sat in the cockpit while the others sat behind you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky says suddenly.

“Yeah?” You don’t even look over your shoulder.

“I’m…sorry for shooting you.”

“Twice,” you clarify. “I didn’t forget the count.”

“Sorry,” he repeats.

“Well, as long as you don’t mistake me for Steve again, I’ll be okay,” you say with a chuckle.

“So, just to reiterate our plan, Bucky will be with me and Clint, and Nat, you’ll be with Y/N,” Steve says.

“Even Captain America knows better than to break up the power couple.” You grin and reach over to put your hand on her thigh. Without taking her eyes off the controls, she takes your hand and interlocks your fingers.

“Yeah, so you two just do your thing—” Steve catches himself. “Wait, not that kind of thing.”

Clint explodes into wheezy laughter and Natasha shakes her head, her cheeks reddening. You’re not embarrassed like she is, but you’re still quick to defend yourselves.

“It was one time!” you protest. It had been a mission where everything that could’ve gone wrong did, and you and Natasha were convinced it would be your last. You two decided to end it wrapped around each other, but then the rest of the Avengers had barged in and said there had been a miscommunication and it wasn’t the end of the world after all. It was the one mission you would never live down.

“Just keep it professional, please,” Steve begs. “No matter what happens, we’re all going home alive, okay?”

Bucky looks completely lost.

Natasha lands the Quinjet in a flurry of snow and all of you exit the warmth of the plane.

“I should’ve brought one of your hoodies,” she mumbles, walking as close to you as she can without tripping you.

“It would’ve clashed with your uniform,” you say, putting your arm around her waist. The super soldier serum in your veins causes you to run a higher-than-average body temperature. You feel as comfortable as if you stepped out of hot shower.

The facility is the only building for miles. It looks big enough to fit a space rocket and has a dull, concrete exterior. The only security is a chain-link fence with a frozen padlock that Steve breaks open with his shield. You file through the gate, and Bucky inputs a code into the door to grant everyone entry. The interior is just as disappointing as the outside. Nothing but a maze of concrete halls with metal doors. The ceiling has dripping water stains and an uncomfortably musty, moldy smell hangs in the air.

“I bet you’re really glad you escaped this rust bucket,” you say to Bucky. He only shakes his head.

“Stay alert,” Steve advises. “We’ll split here. Keep us updated on your position and if you find anyone.”

“Copy that.” You and Natasha turn right while the others turn left. She finds a flight of stairs and you follow behind her. You unholster your gun, holding it at the ready by your side. Natasha makes random turns and ignores every room you walk by. You listen intently for any sort of noise that would indicate a person lurking in the shadows, but so far, there’s nothing.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” you ask.

“Do you?” she snaps.

“Hey, I’m just following you.” You back off. Even though you know this is no time to be making jokes, you still can’t help yourself. High-stress situations make you nervous, especially when you’re with Natasha, because anything that could happen to you could happen to her.

When you pass by a room with its door open, you see a large glass tank big enough to fit a human and filled with murky green water. For a reason you can’t explain, you feel yourself drawn towards it and you step into the room, a chill raising goosebumps on your skin. You reach out to touch the tank’s wall and close your eyes.

You’re floating in a tank of your own, tubes running out of your nose, mouth, and down every limb. You jerk around wildly in the water tinged pink with your blood. Your lungs seize for air, but every breath you inhale is wet and salty.

“Shall we go another round?” you hear someone on the other side say.

“Might as well. No pain, no gain, right?” someone replies.

You want to bash your hands against the glass, but you’re too weak to have any control over your movements. You feel a sharp pain in your lower back, at the base of your spine, and your body arches as more drugs are pumped into you. You have no breath to scream with as your body twists in agony. It feels like a fire eating you from the inside out, burning through your bones, and you want nothing more than to wither away to ash...

“Hey.” You jump when you feel Natasha’s hand on your shoulder. “What are you doing in here?”

“Um, I…I thought I heard something,” you lie. Natasha frowns. Like Steve and Bucky, you had been a lab rat yourself, although not to SHIELD or HYDRA. You had been passed around other government agencies—at least, that’s what you think. Most of your memories of that time were fuzzy, which you were fine with. The ones you did remember weren’t worth reliving anyway.

“Y/N.” Natasha looks concerned.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” You don’t want to interrupt the mission with your personal problems.

She knows better than to push you, especially at a time like this. “Okay,” she says, leaving the room. You take a minute to collect yourself. When you finally turn around, you see a black-haired woman, shorter than Natasha even, standing in the doorway in the same vest Bucky had worn the first time you met him.

“Hello,” you say, holstering your gun. You’re not going to shoot someone who looks like she’s barely of age. “You must be one of the super soldiers Bucky told me about. Who was your target supposed to be? Romanoff?” you tease.

“Thor.” The woman’s voice is dainty. Her body is literally the size of one of Thor’s arms. There’s no way she’s telling the truth.

You laugh. “That’s cute. But this is no place for a kid,” you say, walking towards her. But she sees that you’re too casual, your guard let down too low, and takes advantage of that. “Now all I need is for you to put this mask on and—”

The woman launches at you with a speed you don’t even process. She swipes your legs out from under you, causing you to crash on your back. Then she’s on top of you, hands around your throat. You reach into your pocket for your knife, all jokes lost with her attempt to take your life.

You flip the blade out and swing at her face, but she’s quick to dodge and rolls to the side. You jump to your feet, wondering where Natasha is. But you’re too embarrassed to call for her help, even if this soldier claims she was given the task of taking out the god of thunder.

The woman is impossibly fast and she lands blow after blow on you while you stagger back and slash out helplessly with your knife. When she kicks you in the stomach and your back collides into the water tank, you’ve had enough.

You switch your knife to your left hand and aim for the woman’s neck. She grabs your wrist and twists it around so the knife turns towards you. Your eyes widen as she puts her entire body weight behind the knife. The blade sinks into your shoulder.

“What the—” You don’t even register the pain, more upset that you’ve been harmed with your own weapon. The woman grins, distracted, and you punch her in the throat as hard as you can. Her eyes bulge and she coughs, her hands flying to her neck.

You take the mask out of your pocket and shove it onto her face, hearing the hiss as the sedative is instantly released. The woman immediately goes limp and you have no problem letting her drop to the floor.

“Y/N!” You look up and see Natasha staring at you, arms crossed over her chest.

“I got one.” You puff out your chest proudly.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Natasha comes over and inspects the soldier’s limp body.

“I didn’t need to. I handled her all by myself,” you say, a little annoyed by her doubt in your abilities.

“Is that a knife in your shoulder?” she asks.

“I…Oh, yeah—”

“Is that your knife?” Being called out hurts more than the actual pain of having the knife in your shoulder.

“Uh…maybe…” You can’t even look her in the eye.

“Y/N,” Natasha growls. “Here, let me take it out.”

You back up until you hit the tank again. “Wait, shouldn’t we—ow!” you yelp as Natasha jerks the knife out.

“You’ve been through worse.” She tries to hand you the knife, but you shake your head, too embarrassed to continue carrying it with you since you obviously can’t be trusted with it. She shrugs and pockets your knife, taking out some gauze and tape to patch up your wound. You rotate your left arm in circles; besides an uncomfortable twinge, it works fine.

“So, what do we do with her body?” you ask.

“We’ll come back. We need to find the other three first.”

“Three? I thought there were four.” You try to do the math in your head. Bucky had said there five super soldiers, and you had just defeated one, meaning there were four left—

“Three,” Natasha repeats and you look at her in confusion. “Mine’s outside.” Unlike you, there wasn’t a single scratch on her. Together, you leave the room and find a man slumped on the floor, a mask on his face.

“When did this happen?” you ask.

Natasha shrugs, but you can tell she’s extremely proud of herself. “When you were busy dealing with that little girl.”

“Excuse me. According to her, her target was Thor,” you say. “So, I just took out the soldier who was supposed to take down the god of thunder.”

“Yeah, you can keep telling yourself that.” Natasha nudges you playfully.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes.

“Hey, are you two okay?” Steve asks in your earpiece.

“We disabled two soldiers on the second floor,” Natasha responds.

“Perfect. We got two down here as well.”

“Who did you take out?” Clint asks.

“This tiny woman and a guy,” you answer.

“How big was the guy?” Bucky asks.

“Maybe around your size?” you estimate, staring down at the soldier Natasha subdued.

“Okay, because the two we took out were also average-sized dudes. The last one—I was hoping it wouldn’t come down to this—he’s an absolute beast. I think he’s almost seven-feet tall and could bench press a plane with one hand,” Bucky says.

“So whoever takes him out wins,” you say. Between you and Natasha, you were certain you could win any fight.

“You’re on,” Clint says.

Natasha and you leave the soldiers where they lay and search the rest of the floor. This time, you take the lead, a little more cautious since you know what to expect. You head up to the third floor, expecting the last soldier to jump out at any moment. The tension of waiting to find him is almost unbearable and your muscles ache from being coiled so tightly.

“You guys find him yet?” Natasha asks through the earpieces.

“Negative.”

Suddenly, a moving shadow catches your eye and you throw out your arm to stop Natasha. A man steps out from around the corner and Bucky wasn’t lying about his size. He’s so tall the top of his head disappears behind the ceiling beams and he looks like he would sweep any bodybuilding competition he entered.

“Never mind, we found him. Third floor,” Natasha mumbles.

“Don’t engage him alone.” That’s Steve’s voice. “Try to stall—”

“Too late” you want to say as the man charges towards you. There is no way you two are taking him down without the use of any weapons; plus, you don’t have any more masks to use. But if you punched or kicked him, you wouldn’t be able to reach his face without catching airtime. You run backwards, fumbling with your options. An idea pops into your head.

“Maybe he has a safe word, too,” you say, crashing into Natasha and shoving her back. “Lizzie! Karen!” you scream the first names that come to you. “It could be a guy’s name—can’t assume anything, right? Chris! Tom! Mark!” The names have no effect other than making you look like an idiot.

“Shut up, Y/N—” Natasha hisses.

The man roars and reaches out, grabbing a fistful of your shirt. He throws you like a javelin and you can’t believe how far you fly, landing on your stomach and skidding another 30 feet.

Natasha tries engaging him, and although she’s faster than him, any punch or kick she lands goes completely unnoticed by him. The man flings her aside like a sack of flour and comes towards you.

You reach for your gun, but before you can bring it up, he kicks it out of your hand and stomps on it. The barrel literally flattens before your eyes, and you roll onto your back to face him. He lifts his foot, which is easily as big as your calf, and brings it down on your right knee.

CRUNCH.

The pain of your leg snapping in half is so blinding and nauseating you don’t even scream. It feels like someone is holding a blow torch to your bones and your entire body starts trembling in shock. The man scoops you up with an arm leveraged underneath your chin, and once you’re upright, you feel the lower half of your right leg dangling like a broken branch.

He lifts you high enough so your feet don’t touch the floor, leaving you scrabbling at his arm and choking on your saliva. Your vision flashes white and you feel the overwhelming urge to vomit as he spins you around to face Natasha.

She has her gun out, pointed at his head. “Put Y/N down,” she orders.

“And what if I don’t?” the man says in a voice that sounds like it came from the depths of the ocean. “You think you can shoot me before I can break a neck?” He squeezes you harder and you whimper.

Natasha pauses to think, and her eyes dart to the side before looking back at the man. “Okay, okay.” She sets her gun on the floor and raises her hands. “Just please don’t—”

“Kick it towards me.” The man crushes your windpipe like a straw and your eyes water.

Natasha reaches out with her foot and sends the gun spinning towards you and your captor. Suddenly, the man tosses you away and when you crumple on your broken leg, you swear you see purgatory.

“Get on your knees,” the man tells Natasha. She doesn’t obey. “I said, get on your knees!” Very slowly, with a defiant look on her face, she drops to her knees one at a time. The man picks up her gun and holds it in front of her face. “I’ve been waiting years to finally meet you, Agent Romanoff.”

“Well, sorry for not coming around sooner.”

“My comrades may not have been successful in eliminating their targets, but I don’t fail,” the man says.

Natasha looks away from him to you. “I love you,” she calls, as casually as if you two were lounging on the couch watching a movie together.

You blink away tears to make eye contact with her. You can’t move, you have no weapons, and he has a gun pointed at her head. The complete helplessness you feel hurts more than your broken leg, more than Bucky’s gunshots had, more than any pain you’ve ever felt before. There’s a thousand things you want to tell her, but you only have time to say one.

“I love you t—”

But there isn’t even enough time for you to finish your sentence, because suddenly Natasha’s face is covered in blood.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Click here for Part 5!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow fanfiction #black widow #marvel

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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

Coin Stealer

Trafalgar Law x psychic!Reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: Law does not believe that you can see dead people, so you crochet him the strange-looking beanie of the strange-looking man that walks around the Polar Tang.

highlight: ¨I´ll give a chance to the uniform, and I´ll only address you as Captain when you behave as Captain.¨

warning: You are entering Trafalgar´s room.

notes: Bello, ma people! This is the 3/3 part of a lovely anon request in which the s/o makes them a thing with crochet! This time is Dr. Heart Stealer edition!! I really enjoyed writing this, and it got a little long, but I did not want to cut off important things. Anyway, I hope you like it!

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!

¨Hey, Bepo! Have you seen Law?¨

¨Y/N! I don´t know where he is... I´m sorry.¨

¨Oh, it´s ok!¨ you patted the mink´s shoulder, giving him a warm smile.

You were never a big fan of his constant apologetic personality, but you couldn´t deny that you missed it during your time apart from the crew.

The Heart Pirates had parted ways a long time ago when your Captain decided that the time to put his life-long plan in action had finally come. The crew split into three parts, and each one followed a different path.

After the sudden disappearance of the Strawhats, the Paramount War, the Rocky Port Incident, and Law obtaining his title as a Warlord of the Sea, you were the first to depart, remaining in Sabaody Archipelago, waiting for the owners of the Thousand Sunny to return. You fought alongside a fishman called Hacchin, a weird guy that reminded you of Black Leg and other allies to protect the ship.

Next to leave was Law, who sailed to Punk Hazard, where he formed a partnership with a crazy scientist bastard. Then the rest of the crew went on their own towards the island where you would meet once the plan was concluded.

The trajectory was not smooth by any means, but you did it, all of you. And now you feasted along with the Strawhats, celebrating whatever it was that you did not understand. Maybe they were like that, or maybe they didn't understand the risks you would take from now on.

Anyway, the crew seemed to be in need of some music and fun, and you were too busy looking for your Captain to care about that.

In the midst of the evening breeze, the crackling of the fire, and the barrels of beer crashing in celebration, you saw the answer you were looking for.

Of course.

¨If I didn´t love you...¨ you growled as you made your way out of the island to reach the Polar Tang. And let´s face it, that was a detour.

You went straight to your room, where Law would probably be sipping coffee, napping, or just running from the crowds. And just like you, it has been months since he stepped on his own ship and slept in his own bed.

So maybe you could cut him some slack.

However, as you approached the room, there was no smell of coffee. No smell of coffee and no light snoring. Just a stillness carried with heavy emotions and your boyfriend, sitting in the dim light holding tight the crochet piece you gave him years ago. You swayed in place, expecting that thing you made to provoke him to be at the sea bottom.

¨Wondering why I kept this?¨ he asked.

¨Not really.¨ you replied. ¨But I am surprised. Am I disturbing?¨

¨You never do.¨

You jumped on the bed, sitting beside him and resting your head on his shoulder.

¨YN-ya... do you know how he...¨ the question struggled to come out.

¨Peaceful.¨

¨Hm.¨ he nodded.

¨I don´t like when he smiles, though. It creeps me out.¨ His body bounced slightly as he joined you in a chuckle.

¨Remember when you gave me this?¨

¨Of course, you almost kicked me out of the ship!¨ you giggled with the memory.

¨You were really annoying back then.¨

¨Hey! Objection!¨

¨Objection rebuffed.¨ he smirked and moved on the bed, pulling you to lay down on his chest.

You told him to shut up before cuddling in, not falling asleep immediately. None of you said much. Instead, you enjoyed the calming and comfortable silence of each other´s company.

It has been a while since you had that.

You remember every moment of your early days as a Heart Pirate. You and Law hadn´t started on the best terms, but he needed you - well, your skills - and you were given a good deal.

The pivot of your history together began on a chain of coincidences. The first one being both of you docking on the same island. The second one was him finding a rare coin for his collection, the same one you would later slip into your pocket.

You wandered around towns using the beautiful art of distraction to get anything you wanted from anyone. Watches, necklaces, wallets, and, well, coins? It was all he had in his pocket, and since it was a cute one, you decided to keep it.

Some called you a thief. Some called you a burglar, and some may even have called you a big son of a bitch. But the thing they all had in common was that none of them knew exactly who they were calling those names.

The thing is, you messed up the first rule and made eye contact with him. Well, it was more of you not being able to take your eyes off of him. He stood out in the crowd, and you had gotten cocky. So when he later found out about the missing coin, it did not take him long to connect you to it.

A lot of things went through his mind. He felt frustrated because his Haki failed him, annoyed for the trouble he would have going after you, and intrigued by the touch so light he did not feel at all.

Or that is what he kept telling himself.

Yes, he was interested in someone with skills like yours, but maybe there was something else he would not admit. The way you looked at him as if you had deciphered his entire life and found the missing pieces of his puzzle. Even the ones he tried to hide.

That night he went out for your head. Or better, your heart, literally.

You were enjoying the comfort of your hotel room, eating some snacks, and playing with your new commemorative coin when he materialized himself by the bed. You instantly knew something was about to go down.

Oh, fuck.

That situation got pretty tense pretty quickly, both ends asking things, and no one willing to offer any answers. The stakes were high, glares cutting the air like blades. It did not help to ease the mood when in the sway of his hand your heart popped out of your chest.

Long story short, his plan was never to drag you to the Polar Tang. Law wanted you to go willingly, joining his crew in exchange for your heart. However, the unfortunate variable he did not consider in the equation was that you would not go down without a fight. So by the time he reached the ship, he noticed the gentle fresh breeze ruffling his hair.

You know, since his hair was usually covered by the hat.

...

THE FREAKING HAT!

The next morning when he returned, you were waiting for him with a satisfied smirk bending your lips, the hat on your head, and the coin dancing between your fingers.

At some point, you had stolen it, and once again, it passed unnoticed by him. That was not a good night for the Heart Pirates. And that was also the night Trafalgar Law realized a couple of things. The first, he needed you on his crew. And the second, you were going to be the death of him. Or maybe the aneurysm of him, he would not give you such credit.

¨You´re late.¨ you said, amused, and his grip tightened around the sword.

¨What´s your name?¨ he repeated the question you dodged several times during your last encounter.

¨What´s with the dog?¨ you pointed at the tall, white polar bear wearing a uniform. Law pursued his lips, breathing heavily through the nose.

¨I am B-¨

¨Bepo-ya don´t talk to he-¨

¨Your name is Bepoya?¨ you ignored the man, bumping into his shoulder as you walked towards the mink ¨Hi, I´m Y/N! Nice meeting you.¨

The polar bear looked back and forth at you and his Captain, not knowing how to behave in this situation, so he apologized and stepped farther back.

¨Alrighty, now that we are all introduced, shall we go?¨

¨What?¨

¨Come on, Law, focus.¨ you snapped your fingers multiple times, teasing him. ¨You came here to pick me up, right?¨

¨No. I want my hat back.¨ He tried to grab it, but you ducked in time, holding the hat on your head with both hands. It was so soft.

¨How about a trade? The coin for the hat.¨

¨How about my hat for your heart? Do this, and I won´t...¨ his words died in his mouth as he clutched his pockets.

¨Looking for this?¨ You held your heart, wrapped in a cold and gelatinous box that you retrieved when you bumped into him minutes earlier.

How could you fool him again? He kept seeking answers that explained why it was so easy for you to outwit him, and his expression showed.

¨You´re getting close, Law. Put your little trash can to work.¨ you tapped your temple, smiling mischievously at him.

¨YN-ya, you know I can kill you, right?¨

¨Yeah, but you won´t.¨

¨How do you know?¨

¨I got a sixth sense for these things.¨

The rest of the conversation did not take long to come to an end. Amid sarcastic comments and threats to each other's lives, what should have been the pinnacle of the moment became a random passage in the Heart Pirates´ logbook.

¨So, YN-ya, do you want to join us? You´re gonna have to wear a uniform and address me as Captain.¨

¨I´ll give a chance to the uniform, and I´ll only address you as Captain when you behave as Captain.¨

Law sighed, giving himself a carotid massage ¨Ok. Let´s go.¨

He walked a few steps ahead of you and Bepo, wondering why he spent so much effort on an arrogant thief that wouldn't even call him Captain.

You quickly became friends with the polar bear, even apologizing for calling him a dog. He strangely apologized for your apologies, culminating in what would almost make the notorious Surgeon of Death suffer a stroke.

¨What the hell is that?!¨ you shouted when the Polar Tang entered your field of vision ¨That´s not a ship!¨

What if I am claustrophobic?

The ya thing is a schtick?

Death? That´s a little borderline controversial for a doctor.

Trafalgar more like Trafraude!

On occasions like that, Law wondered how peaceful and quiet would be the sixth level of Impel Down. From a current perspective, your initial interaction served as a vaccine, creating the necessary antibodies Law would need to deal with future pirate alliances.

The crew got attached to you very quickly. Your adventurous spirit, your stunts, and street trades fascinated them. Losing bets against you seemed acceptable, your card tricks and the thing of guessing the numbers they thought was like fuel for a good day at work.

Law didn't seem to mind that much. After all, you wouldn't get him on his nerves if you were busy with them. However, one day, you let slip something that caught his attention.

¨YEAH! That´s exactly what she looked like! How did you do this?!¨

Law heard Shachi´s roar, followed by a wave of surprised ´ooh´s coming from the kitchen, where the majority of the crew hunched around the dinner table.

The doctor leaned against the door, silently observing what could possibly be more important than keeping the ship working. He had been drowning in files all night, and now he decided to have a coffee break. That mess early in the morning did not make him happy.

No one seemed to be too intimidated when he cleared his throat, announcing his presence. Everyone greeted him with smiling 'good mornings' and turned their attention back to you.

¨What is going on here?¨

¨Captain did you know Y/N can see dead people?!¨

The coffee left a bitter aftertaste on his mouth.

¨What?¨

¨Yeah, Captain!¨ Shachi yelled on Law´s face, earning a death glare ¨She just described my mom!¨

¨Really, Y/N-ya? Now you´re a magician and a psychic?¨ he asked, taking the seat across from you.

¨The perks of being me.¨ you shrugged.

¨Do you see more dead people here?¨

Yes

¨No. But you sound a little skeptical, Law.¨

It was way too early for that discussion, but your biological clock didn't seem to care. Whenever Law came with his teasing, you would be ready to strike back.

He gave everyone a lecture about empathic accuracy and how good you were reading cues communicated by words, emotions, and body language. Or some crap like that.

¨Ok, let me see if I got this right.¨ You shifted in the chair, hands moving in the air ¨You can pull organs out of people´s bodies, cut them in pieces without killing, switch their souls, but you do not believe that I can see dead people?¨

He tilted his head, but not giving you an exact answer.

¨Do you wanna know what I think?¨

¨No.¨

¨I´ll tell you anyway. I think you have something you don´t want people to know, like a soft spot or a tragic past.¨ you sought the answer in his eyes ¨I´m guessing a loved one who died?¨

Overall, he was not wrong. You were a master in reading people´s body language, but you were not a jackass. So when the slight twitch of his mouth cleared up your doubts, it was time to stop.

You knew how it felt, soft spots, tragic pasts, or late loved ones. There was no need to go further and throw more salt on his wounds. Hopefully, that taught him a lesson.

An awkward silence ensued while everyone watched the scene, uncertain how to act, fearful that an extra spark would make everything explode into massive destruction.

¨Whatever.¨ he sighed ¨Show´s over. We´ll be reaching land in a few days, and we should be preparing to dock.¨

When everyone left the kitchen to go about their businesses, you remained alone with the figure that constantly wandered the submarine. He didn't do it in a creepy way. Despite his extravagant makeup and the intimidating aura, he was not a bother.

And it wasn't like he was there all the time, definitely more than anyone else. His passages were guaranteed on the days when Law was more sensitive. For bad or for good. He would look after him from the distance like a parenting figure.

¨Who are you?¨ you murmured under your breath.

For the next few days, Law made sure you were too busy to foster discussions about dead people or paranormal abilities.

When your services stealing rare supplies or getting answers to your Captain's questions you weren't required, you would help him with mountains of paperwork.

Only this time, he had outdone himself.

He managed to assemble the annual check-up of the crew, the inventory packing list, and the update of the logbook at once. This last one could easily wait until after you docked. But that freaking workaholic sadistic surgeon would not let this opportunity slip. So you pulled several all-nighters writing, signing, and stamping, all without exchanging a single word.

When you emerged, a few miles from land, you barely enjoyed the fresh breeze and sunlight. The crew hopped around, getting ready to put their feet on the continent as you sat in the kitchen profusely grouchy.

Your brain was fried, burnt, carbonized.

¨You´re not coming?¨ Penguin asked, and you shook your head. ¨It´s been a while, Y/N, you should come.¨ you shook your head again. ¨I guess you´re not buying anything for the Captain´s birthday as well.¨

An incohesive question came out of your exhausted being. Penguin couldn´t help but feel sorry for you. ¨By the time his birthday comes up, we will be underwater, so everyone is preparing.¨

¨Do I have to?¨

¨No!¨ he chuckled ¨He doesn´t really like it, but we still buy him something.¨

¨Why?¨

¨´Cause he is a good Captain!¨ he said and sprunt out by the voice of someone calling him, waving goodbye at you.

It wasn't that you didn´t think Law was a good Captain. It was just an inherent nature of yours to clash every time you looked at each other.

But on such occasion, you could combine the useful with the pleasant. After all, you were grateful because he gave you friends. Of course, he was the unfortunate by-product that came with them, but you could handle him.

So fighting against your will to stay and sleep, you forced your way out to the solid ground, hoping to find the most random store someone could wish for, a haberdasher.

Much to your delight, you did it. You picked a burgundy color wool and the first hook you put your eyes on and returned to your soft bed.

The chances of you having scared your crewmates by staring at the blank for hours were high. In reality, you wanted to memorize and come up with a pattern for the strange-looking beanie that man wore.

It had no pompom at the top like Penguin´s. Instead, two long pieces of fabric ran down from each side with heart-like things hanging.

When the sixth day of the tenth month arrived, Law´s desk was cluttered with presents. You had decided to wait until you were done with work and heading to bed to give it to him.

After conquering that task, you locked yourself in your room, where you stayed until you had it finished. For some reason, you bothered to buy a box to put it in. Whatever.

On the sixth day of the tenth month, Trafalgar Law could not focus on work. Every slight movement of yours, every bathroom break got him jittery, rehearsing words that wouldn´t make you hate him more.

Not that you ever hated him, but you didn´t talk, so he didn´t know. After some time starting small talks and being ignored, you just gave up trying.

By the end of that night, he had given up too. So when you placed the golden-yellow box on his desk, he couldn´t vocalize his feelings. It became just another silent night.

Chests tight and hearts clogged with unspoken words.

Law did not work for the next couple of days, and if he left his room, no one saw. The gifts on his desk were not even opened. Everything was left the way it was.

Maybe you had crossed a line.

As you marched up to the room at the end of the hall, several paths popped into your mind. You could act like you didn´t care, so what if you left? You had been alone for so long, it wouldn't make any difference! Still, something was begging you to apologize. To ask to stay, because being there was good, everything you never knew you wanted.

You were ready to pack your bags and have your title as a Heart Pirate retracted when you woke up one morning, finding a note on your desk telling you to meet him in his room. Your nails dug into your sweaty palms. Where did this tightness in your chest come from?

When you set foot in the room, your eyes hovered around. It was the first time you saw Law's room. It was exactly how you thought it would be.

Keeping your gaze locked on his was more difficult. He was sitting in an armchair near the foot of the bed. From afar, his appearance remained neat, as always, but as you approached you saw the circles under his eyes even darker. A thing you didn't think was possible.

For the first time, you didn't know how to read his expression. And seeing him vulnerable like that made your stomach drop. So you prepared yourself for the worst. However, to your surprise, all he did was ask you questions.

No snarky remarks. You just talked.

That day something changed. And from that day on, Law had found someone to help him carry the unbearable weight he had on his shoulders, and you found a place to call home.

...

¨Y/N-ya.¨ he called you, who was a cuddle away from sleeping.

¨Hm?¨

¨Before you left, in Sabaody...¨

¨Uhm.¨

¨You stole the coin again, didn´t you?¨

You giggled and pulled the commemorative coin from your back pocket, snuggling closer to his body and feeling the vibration of his chest as he chuckled.

Extra notes: I hope you had enjoyed it! It came out a little too long, but I have been feeling like I´m limiting myself when it comes to the number of words... I don´t know, I´m confused.

Anyway, is that pink and red that I see on the horizon?

#one piece #one piece x y/n #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law #surgeon of death #heart pirates #bepo #penguin #shachi #worst generation #corasan #polar tang check-up #sabaody archipelago #warlords of the sea

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clumsy-hood · 3 years

Text

obey me! demon brothers + love languages (giving vs receiving)

prompt: how the demon brothers like to show and receive love

word count: 2,633

a/n: another late night attempt i wrote the night before and found in my notes. i really do appreciate feedback if anyone wants to shoot me a message. obey me, the ikemen otome games, and playchoices have really kept me nice and distracted during the pandemic so if anyone even wants to chat about any of those topics, i have thoughts and would like to hear yours. do this for a broke, bored bitch.

Lucifer

giving: quality time

There is no denying that the Avatar of Pride has a fairly hectic daily schedule—excluding his brothers’ shenanigans, that is still putting it mildly—so it seems best fit he best shows his love for you by simply spending time alone together. No matter if it’s a dinner date at Ristorante Six or spending the night together in his room listening to music, that time is strictly dedicated to you and no one else. You have Lucifer’s undivided attention—unless his brothers nearly destroy the house, then that is an entirely different story. One-on-one time with him may not always be as common as you’d like, but he sure as hell will put in the effort—so much so that if you’ve had scheduled plans for quite some time (ones he can’t afford to miss), he will rush every meeting, speed through paperwork, and all-in-all practically sprint to make it to you on time.

receiving: acts of service

As much as he’ll go the extra mile to spend so much as a brief moment with you, the way to his heart is doing the little things to make life just a little more bearable for him. Mammon’s plotting to cheat some local low-tier demons? You’re there to redirect his plans to something less potentially chaotic. Lucifer forgot he had to make dinner for the house that night? You’re already on it so long as he helps with cleanup later. Beel ate someone’s food? You’ve already diffused the situation and now the brothers are heading on a snack run. At first, Lucifer was somewhat convinced you were trying to win his brothers’ favors until he realized every little deed or chore completed was to benefit him. Absolutely no ulterior motives planned! It wasn’t until you’d caught him half-asleep and hunched over the desk in his study and offered him a mug of hot tea did he realize how warm and cared for you truly made him feel. The poor guy just isn’t used to be loved and doted on.

Mammon

giving: giving gifts

As greedy as he is to spend time with you, Mammon is convinced the best way to show you how much he truly cares for you is to give you anything and everything he can. You are the only person he can never bring himself to steal from—that’s just how special you are to him. In fact, you’re so important to him that every gift—no matter how big or small—given from him was purchased, won, or even made in the most honest ways possible. He sees you eyeballing a toy at a carnival? He’ll spend whatever money his broke ass has left just to win it for you. If you so much as mention in passing that you like a certain jacket, that boy will wait tables at Hell’s Kitchen for however long it takes to buy you what he thinks you deserve. You mean so much to him—a price that can never be paid, it doesn’t even exist—and even though you’re not nearly as materialistic as he tends to be, if he can’t afford to give you the world to see you smile, then he’ll damn well try to earn it some way or another.

receiving: words of affirmation

Let’s face it, poor Mammon is often the brunt of jokes and insults from his brothers and the occasional low-tier demons, and your small words of kindness leave him a blushing, bumbling mess as he’d be quick to agree and accept your praise. Even if you complimented his hair or told him he had a cute smile in passing, it was as though someone lit sparklers in his chest and he couldn’t help how damn giddy he was. If the Avatar of Greed had a good idea, you were quick to agree and praise him—even defending his choices to his brothers whenever they dismissed or outright ignored him. The sound of your voice had become his favorite thing as though it could be the soundtrack of his day. Though, as much as he enjoyed your compliments and affirmations, you just listening to him vent or complain or even telling you about his day made him feel more heard than he had been for the longest time. And something about that was exciting and confusing all at once, but he knew he never wanted it to end.

Levi

giving: quality time

The Avatar of Envy himself has mentioned that his type is someone he can spend time with—even if that means you both are doing completely different things. So long as you’re in the room with him, he feels completely at ease. It’s honestly one of the best ways he knows how to show how much he trusts you, simply by inviting you into his room and having you make yourself at home there. If you’re trying to read a book, he’ll offer a seat in his room to keep you nearby while he plays his newest game. And Levi loves inviting you to his room for movie nights or binge-watch whatever anime he’s sure you’re going to absolutely love and will keep peeking over at you to gauge your reaction or will occasionally pause it to explain certain plot points. The ultimate show of his affection? The second he invites you to play a video game together—no matter if it’s an RPG, story-driven, or an all-out battle raid—you know you’ve unlocked some type of high-tier level of trust with him and he never wants you to leave.

receiving: receiving gifts

No matter how often you’d try to reassure Levi you cared for him and didn’t consider him a yucky otaku, your words never seemed to suffice. After plenty of trial and error to show you care, it was after you unknowingly purchased rare Ruri-Chan memorabilia as a gift for him did you realize how he best accepts love. Of course, everything you’d get him anything—even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant thing—he’d become a beet-red, stuttering mess spitting nothing but praise and adoration towards you. Because it means you listened to all the things he loves and went out of your way to show it. No matter if it was preordering a game he had mentioned wanting to play or even picking up a spare treat for him while you were out shopping, he always appreciated knowing you could be out there alone and still thinking of him.

Satan

giving: words of affirmation

Everything the Avatar of Wrath says and does seem to be polished and refined, almost as though he has rehearsed several interactions that may happen to keep his rage at bay. Though, he is quick to realize it is slightly different to do around you. It isn’t that words are difficult for him but expressing them isn’t so much in average verbal praise as it is in written form. Out of all the brothers, he is the most likely to offer books with little notes of paper written inside for you to read, often comparing your relationship to those of fictional characters he has found. I mean, he’s even made you an entire picture book with his own created story starring the two of you just to show how much you truly mean to him. There would never be any doubt how much you truly mean to him, but when speaking those words aloud may come across as more aggressive than intended, it’s the written word where he truly shines in sharing his feeling towards you.

receiving: quality time

As much as he enjoys telling you—or rather, writing to you—how much you mean to him, he has a harder time simply accepting your words for what they are and claims he is not easily swayed with words as his brothers are. Instead, the best way Satan responded to your love and affection was simply from your mere presence. Whether your head rested in his lap while he read his book in his room or the two of you tested different Devildom and human recipes in the kitchen, your general being in the vicinity of him was enough to leave him feeling warm inside. After a suggestion from you, you both would even schedule time aside to take a stroll around RAD and Devildom, just a little adventure here and there where you’d try new restaurants or even pet the random cats you’d find. The demon had a way of coming and going as he’d please—often making acquaintances with those he’d meet—but you were always the one he looked forward to spending time with the most. He could hardly wait for whatever little adventure you’d experience together next.

Asmo

giving: physical touches

Given that he is the Avatar of Lust, it wouldn’t come across as too much of a surprise that Asmo shows his love and affection through physical touch quite often—so long as you’re comfortable with it, that is. Even though he’d regularly praise you with words, he’d much rather feel your hand pressed to his own or nonchalantly toy with your fingers while you relaxed with one another. If he thought your skin could use a little help, he’d offer hands-on assistance applying his regular regimen to your skin. He has such a gentle touch, if he saw you struggling with your hair in any way—tangles or just struggling to style it?—he’d be quick to offer help and would miraculously make it as painless as possible. And of course, he’d practically shower you in kisses—on your wrist, your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your tummy, your fingertips, your ear, your neck, your nose, etc. If he could every inch of you with his love—in a less lewd way—he would in a heartbeat.

receiving: words of affirmation

While he’d love you reciprocating his physical love with touches of your own, there is nothing Asmo seems to truly desire from you more than the validation of him, his beauty, and your love for him. You knew the demon was well familiar with past lovers singing praises of his beauty and sexuality, but you had no idea just how much he sought your validation until he’d confessed how much your thoughts of him mattered. It would become a habit to wake up to him tangled beside you, whispering an ‘I love you’, and to be greeted with a gentle kiss. If he was ever overwhelmed or concerned with his overall image, you were quick to cease those worries with reminders about how beautiful he was and what a lovely heart he had as well. The moments you had admitted you loved his soft nature and gentle touch and warm embrace left an odd fluttering feeling in his chest. He knew he loved you, but it seemed he had no idea how much until you’d tell him those three words and gave him your undivided attention.

Beel

giving: acts of service

Honestly, Beel was never sure the best way of showing his love for you—he was always worried he’d say the wrong thing or that his hunger would get the best of him. He knew he cared for you and never wanted to cross any boundaries so he figured he’d do little things here and there just to see you smile. If he was excited to try new foods, he’d always get extra just for you. He wasn’t always the best with cooking, but if you mentioned you were homesick for the human world, then he’d ask Barbatos or Luke to help him make human food for you—and some for him to sample. If the Devildom weather left you feeling chillier than usual, he’d offer his jacket—although it was so massive on you, it practically pooled at your feet once he draped it over your shoulders. If you had passed out in the library, Beel wouldn’t hesitate to offer carrying you back to your dorm—or his, per your request. And if he found out you skipped a meal, I swear to Diavolo you are the only one he would ever share snacks with without a second thought. He just wanted you happy, healthy, and in Devildom with him and his brothers.

receiving: quality time

For all the little things he enjoys doing for you, spending quality time with the Avatar of Gluttony is the best way to his heart—aside from food, that is. Offering to go out with him to Hell’s Kitchen for lunch or inviting him in the kitchen while you make cheeseburgers are the simplest ways to see him grinning wide. Even movie marathons in your room were a treat for him—and not just because he’d have brought a tub of popcorn—but it was an excuse to have you pressed against him and he loved that a little more than the bucket of buttery goodness in his lap. It could be a challenge at times with how packed both your schedules could be—especially if he had several back-to-back Fangol games—but you did your best to make it work. In between classes, you’d meet up and make time for little conversation, offering him a snack if you had anything on you, before going on with your day. If he needed a spotter or someone to record him working out? You were there in a heartbeat. It seemed like a lot of work sometimes to find moments alone together with everyone else around, but he was worth it. Beel would always be worth it.

Belphie

giving: quality time

Belphie was never sure the best way to show you how much you meant to him; after all, he was the Avatar of Sloth so he wasn’t as accustomed to offering gifts or doing your chores around the house. But he found the most successful way was to simply spend time with you whenever he could. His brothers often vied for your attention, so if it meant carrying you on his shoulder to take you to the attic room for some one-on-one time then so be it. He did everything he could to stay awake so he could listen to you talk about your day, often nuzzling into your neck and pressing lazy kisses with a sleepy grin. He even tried to make it to more council meetings and RAD classes just so he had an excuse to spend time with you immediately afterward. His absolutely favorite moments would be any time he’d wake up before you or the ones where you’d like curled up against him because he knew he trusted you well enough to sleep on you, but a warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped him wholly, realizing you trusted him enough to do the same.

receiving: physical touches

Similar to his brothers, Belphie could be more than a little greedy for your time and attention—especially any sign of affection—but the best way to show any love was best translated through gentle touches. If you played with his hair and caressed his cheek during a cuddle session, that boy would let out the softest sigh and doze off quickly to sleep. He wouldn’t ever openly admit it out loud but loved the feel of your hand wrapped in his or the way your legs would get all tangled together whenever you were sleeping at night. And your hugs would honestly make his day. If Lucifer was starting to get to him, you’d swoop in with a comforting hug while his heart was practically pounding right out of his chest. Maybe Beel ate the food he was saving? You were quick to salvage his mood with a kiss to the cheek and a squeeze to his arm. He never understood how you could be such a lifeline for him, but somehow a simple touch from you kept him tethered to the rest of the world and left him enjoying being awake.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me sfw #obey me drabble #obey me imagine #obey me blurb #clumsy-hood #my writing #commission open

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svnaslove · 4 years

Text

post-it notes ♡

characters: sugawara, bokuto

summary: it’s basically just them flirting with their s/o using post-it notes

(i thought it was cute okay)

genre: fLUFF

warnings: be prepared for just how fluffy this is because it’s so cute omg

You two honestly don’t even know when or how this started, it just,, started?

During classes, in the halls, face to face, it was just you guys’s thing

It didn’t take long for people to notice the cute little thing you guys had going on of passing post-it notes to each other all of the time

EVERYONE thought you were dating, truth is, you both liked each other but were both too scared to confess to the other.

One day you decided to confess but you were really nervous, you didn’t know how you would do this and you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

But then you decided it was better to confess then to be like this any longer

Suga made you happy and he was your best friend, what could go wrong?

So here you are, holding little heart-shaped post-it notes in your hands that you had just gotten at the convenience store and your cheeks flushed because you had ran all the way there and back to try to make it back in time.

“meet me behind the gym before the game - bug”

Oh yeah, did I mention? You have post-it note codenames for each other

You were bug and he was kit-kat

this is so cute im screaming

the nicknames had come from just random moments

You were bug because your were freaking SHORT and he was kit-kat because one day you brought him one and he got so excited and he had accidently left a little bit of chocolate in the corner of his lips and you didn’t bother to mention it to him until after he had come to sit down from his presentation in front of the whole class KDJFLSDK

“i loved that presentation kit-kat” you smiled slyly at his confused face. “Kit-Kat?” Suga asked a little confused. You reached to the chocolate at the corner of his lips and wiped it off of his lips with your thumb and then licked the chocolate off of your thumb.

Suga baby was a MESS

Baby was blushing so hard he couldn’t function for the rest of the day

Error 404 suga.exe has stopped functioning

He couldn’t look at you without blushing for a whole week

So here you were, sticking this post-it note to his locker (which you knew he would go to to get his volleyball bag), telling him to meet you behind the gym before his practice game vs. nekoma so you could confess to him how you literally fell head over heels for him

You were twiddling with the bottom of your skirt as you saw Sugawara approach you from a little distance. Maybe telling him to meet you here was mistake? Maybe you should just say that you wanted to wish him good luck on the game? no, you had to tell him, it was to late to back out now and you it was getting harder and harder to hold back your feelings. mama ain’t raise a lil bitch.

Suga held your little heart shaped post-it note with your careful handwriting up and waved it. “I got your note.” he smiled, completely oblivious to what was about to happen. How were you supposed to confess to him when he was being so cute. UGH.

“i uhm, needed to talk to you suga-kun.” you said twiddling with your fingers now. Sugawara noticed how tense you were and decided to stay quiet and pay attention to what you had to say, he didn’t want to ruin it since it seemed important.

“you can tell me y/n” a little smile on his face.

“uhm, okay, well, i-, i like you suga, and not just you know, friendship like you, like, like LIKE you.” you stuttered out, feeling your cheeks heat up so much it would be noticeable even if it were dark out.

Suga walked up to you with a little smirk (he was trying to keep it down i swear he didn’t want to make you freak out more but he couldn’t help it)

“do you have any more of these post-it notes?” he asked simply.

“I- what? Uhm yea, i think so.” confused, you took out the pack of heart-shaped stick notes and handed it to him.

Suga took out a sharpie from his pocket and started writing on it, when he was done he just sticked it to your forehead and walked away. (YOUR FOREHEAD, I KNOW)

You were so confused you thought this wasn’t actually happening. You took the sticky note and read it.

“i like you too dummy - kit-kat”

Your heart JUMPED out of your chest. You blushed again you noticed something was written behind it too.

“wait for me at the entrance to the gym after the game”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karasuno had won the practice match against Nekoma which had only motivated Nekoma more to practice for a real dumpster match. You laughed at the sight of the captains of both teams trying to be as sportsman like as possible to each other failing miserably because Daichi seemed like he wanted to break out into a dance and Kuroo looked like he was about to cry.

You waited at the entrance, spacing out and looking up at the stars in the sky. Only to be brought back by the familiar voice calling your name.

“y/nn !” Suga called.

“Hi Suga!” you called back.

He stopped in front of you and blushed.

“Let me walk you home”

“Okay” you smiled.

The two of you walked together holding pinkies under the starry sky that night and when you two had stopped in front of your house he had given you a kiss in the cheek, making you both blush.

“Good night, y/n”

“Good night, Suga”

lmao it started in the middle of volleyball practice

being one of the managers you had to take notes for the team for their plays etc.. so you had plenty of post-it notes

bokuto was being loud again, like always

“AKAASHI DID YOU SEE THAT, DID YOU SEE THAT AKAASHI”

you just walked up to him and stuck the sticky note right on his forehead

he turned it around and it said

“ssshhh, we saw it bokuto, good job”

bokuto literally stopped functioning because it was so out of nowhere and he wasn’t expecting that

he just stood there for a solid 20 seconds watching you walk away with the sticky note in his hand

akaashi was literally shook “y/n please do that more often just to shut him up”

i don’t know know what it was not even bokuto knows himself but after that he got such a big crush on you

maybe it was the way you got his attention with something so small?

so after that he got his own pair of sticky notes just to mess with you

he would write little notes to make you blush to try to get your attention like you got his, and he would be really sweet in the notes

“you look really pretty today :D “

“thank you for always helping our team :)”

yes, he drew the smiley faces too

and each and everyone of those post-it notes brought a little blush to your cheeks

not short after you ended up getting a crush on bokuto too and you would try to get him flustered with them too

“you’re doing really good today bokuto :)”

“are you a volleyball because i’d hit that ;)”

it’s safe to say that he short-circuited when you gave him that second one and just walked away and in that day, he had never played a practice match like how he did that day because he really wanted to impress you

the team had noticed you guys’s little post-it note thing and thought it was so cute

konoha and sarukui and yukie all had a game where they would watch to see the exchange of the sticky notes and laughed at how your faces would get so red after reading each others sticky notes

bokuto would try his hardest to make sure the post-it note was perfect

he would spend time on every little detail, he wanted his handwriting to be nice and the doodles around it to be perfect so he would be extra attentive to make sure it went the way he wanted and it freaked akaashi out because he had never seen bokuto pay so much attention to anything other than volleyball

no seriously, akaashi was literally freaked (in a good way) because bokuto would be silent for like 5 minutes focusing on his post-it of the day

not long after, you guys started dating and sometimes bokuto would have his arm around you and his hand would slip into the back pocket of your jeans to leave his post-it note there and he liked to watch how your cheeks would get so red, he thought it was so cute

for some reason you guys just forgot to tell the team you two were dating, you guys just thought that they thought you already were?

so uhm, this is how they found out

you were writing on your clipboard, taking notes for the practice getting the next volleyball camp set up for the boys. the team was setting everything up for practice to start and Akaashi was walking up to you to ask a question about the next training camp when OUT OF NOWHERE FREAKING BOKUTO SHOWS UP RUNNING TOWARDS YOU WITH A STICKY NOTE IN HIS HAND HE JUST SLAPS YOUR ASS WITH THE HAND THAT HAS THE STICKY NOTE AND KISSES YOUR CHEEK AND RUNS PAST YOU LIKE IT’S NOTHING.

Mind you the whole team just saw everything and Akaashi was right there so he not only got a front row seat to the sound you made when Bokuto slapped your ass but he also could read what Bokuto wrote on the post-it note.

Your face was SO red and you reached for the sticky note stuck on your ass.

“your ass looks really good in those pants baby :)”

again with the smiley faces, i know

Akaashi knew that he liked you but he had no idea that you guys were dating so he literally yelled “what the FUCK BOKUTO” and Konoha was about to spike a volleyball at him and Yukie was about to call the police before you could stop them and Bokuto and you had to tell them that you guys were dating😭😭

“ohhh but still, whAT THE FUCK I WAS RIGHT THERE” Akaashi spluttered.

“sorry akaashiiii” bokuto said, his hair going down about to go into emo mode. you kissed him in the cheek and he sprung up with the new found energy and gave you a big hug and you giggled.

“okay! let’s get this practice started!” bokuto yelled and started jogging over to the volleyballs after giving you a little kiss at the top of your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note: hey i hope you guys enjoyed it, this is was my first time doing this style of writing with the bullet points and the multiple characters in one post so i hope it was cute ^^

also im doing requests now so if you guys have any requests for me to write you can ask here :)

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

Intact

Pair: George Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Life goes to hell when your mother, who happens to be Bellatrix LeStrange AND a Death Eater, finds out you joined the Order of the Phoenix with your boyfriend.

Warnings: Swearing, child abuse?, I guess it's more like assault? Dark, probably graphic??

Notes: 100/10 on this one. Honestly it was fun to write-

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

You knew the moment you stepped into the house she knew and it wasn’t a good thing. The house was borderline destroyed from the glass shattered on the floor from the ‘family portrait’ on the floor to the burn marks across walls. Your shoes crunched as you walked across the remains of the crystal chandler that's been in the house for generations. You entered the living room and was immediately struck with a spell that had your black slamming into the wall.

"You rat! You sniveling, useless, pathetic little rodent!” Her hoarse voice revealed how long she’d been screaming. She kicked the coffee table in the center of the room off to the side. “I should've known!" your mother screamed, her wand tightening in her hand. Her arm stayed stretched out, showing her lack of hesitance and empathy toward you. "You were always so ungrateful! So unbelievably selfish!" You held your head in your hands. A headache was throbbing beside your temples- you must've really hit your head on the wall- and her screaming was not helping it out at all. Her yells echoed in the house, almost shaking the shattered windows of the living room.

"What are you going on about?" you asked, finally raising your head to look at her. Her makeup was messy, her hair was an actual rats nest and her eyes were darker than you've ever seen. She looked insane, more so than usual.

"Don't act like you don't know! You betrayed the Dark Lord for that.. That boy!" Bellatrix screeched out, making long steps across the shard covered carpet to corner you. "Honestly! A Weasley, (Y/n)! A blimey, no good for nothing blood traitor! I raised you better than that!"

You stared at her with wide eyes. She knew. Oh, of course she knew who you were sneaking out almost every night to see! She probably found out herself or maybe Draco tattled, that coward. It didn’t matter how she knew, she knew you were with a Weasley, sneaking out almost every night to see him, the other Weasleys and the Order.

"Raised me? I'm sorry, raised me?!" You genuinely had to laugh at that. "You can not take credit for how I came out! You didn't raise me! No, no even close! You dropped me off at the Malfoys like a stray dog.” You didn’t even flinch when she jabbed her wand right under your chin, a sneer growing on her features.

You tried to ignore how much it hurt to be ditched by your own mother, forced to swivel and basically praise the Malfoys for taking in someone like you. You were nothing compared to Draco. Everyone wanted a compliant son like Draco, but no, you had to be different, see your mother for how she really was. You could remember when she showed up one random day after graduating your 4th year, claiming she loved you, missed you, how times got too tough to have a baby boy around the house. The thought now made you sick. She didn’t care about you for fourteen years, but suddenly she does. Since then, life has been hell. Except around George.

“I should’ve left you on the streets.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she grabbed your shoulder. Her unusually sharp nails seemed to phase right through your shirt. “I should’ve drowned you in a river, I should’ve given you to the Dark Lord himself.” Her nails dug deeper into your skin, puncturing it, leading to small droplets of red to seep into the cotton of your shirt. Your pain must’ve made itself known because she smirked and tossed her head back in loud laughter that made your temples throb again. “I should’ve killed you myself.” She pulled away from you, stepping back a few paces before turning swiftly to face you once again. She did a curtsy, not taking her eyes off you.

“Clearly, there’s a lot we both should’ve done.” Your voice cracked as you pulled out your own wand from your pocket, holding it tightly. You stepped forward a few spaces and bowed, understanding what she wanted. She wanted you to suffer. She casted a spell before you could even blink, her laugh echoed in the house again.

“Crucio!”

Your body slammed against the wall a second time, except this time, it felt like your heart was actually going to stop. It felt like every nerve was being ripped in half one by one, like you were being burned alive but drowning in an icy river at the same time. You physically couldn’t stop the scream of pure agony that ripped from your throat.

You crashed to the floor as your muscles tensed up. The spell lifted before another scream could fly from your lips, giving your now aching muscles a break. You curled into a tight ball, your knees to your chest, as your.. ‘Mother’ let out yet another cackling laugh. Honestly, you weren’t sure she ever stopped.

“What’s wrong, (Y/n)? Too much for you? Maybe I should just call you Weasley. You’re just as pathetic and dimwitted as they are.” She giggled, bouncing on her feet, before doing a spin. “Oh, I do love your scream though.”

You were trying to blink through the tears and ignore the way your gut was twisting itself up. You officially envied anyone who said crap about Longbottom's parents- they didn’t deserve this. Through the tears, your eyes landed on your wand, just in arms reach. With a shaky, weak hand, you reached for it, an equally shaky breath leaving your lips when your fingertips grazed across the wood. It was so close. that was, until a heal came to rest into the back of your hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my insane rambling is too boring for you, is it?” Bellatrix spat out. She lowered herself onto one knee, putting testing her weight against the bones in your skin. You sucked in a breath, your eyes squinting shut. While she was down there, she decided to go on a tangent on how her life was so difficult, how she couldn’t have her love with her, whoever the fuck that was, and how she was a good mother.

“You’re such a bitch.” You whispered out. While the witch was so worried about your hand and spitting all over your face with her sob story, you’d managed to grab your wand. You threw a punch, right to her crooked grin. The punch wasn’t your strongest, but it gave you enough leeway to wiggle your hand free and aim your wand at her, casting stupefy to throw her back. Before she could do anything else, you booked it out the door, running as fast as you could. You didn’t look behind you when she started screaming again.

“Ingrate! Go run off to those pathetic blood-traitors! You deserve to be with your own kind! A bunch of filthy low-lives!”

You rounded the corner and apparated to where you knew they would be, where you’d be safe. With a crisp pop, you were in front of the door of none other than Sirius’ Black’s home. You didn’t bother knocking, you didn’t need too. You stumbled into the house, effectively cutting off everyone’s casual conversation in the living room. You ignored Molly’s gentle calls and Remus trying to see if you were ok. You just sprinted up the stairs, calling for your boyfriend.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until your body collided with George’s, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist while the other went straight to your hair. He rocked your back and forth, his voice whispering everything was going to be ok in your ear. You didn’t even notice the crowd forming behind you.

“Cupcake, I’m going to need you to tell me what happened, ok?” He gently pulled you from his chest, his hands cupping your wet cheeks to wipe away your tears.

“She knows. Someone told her- or- or she followed us but she knows and-” You took in a shaky breath, being gently dragged back into a hug by the ginger. You couldn’t see it, but George, while never usually one to jump to violence, was close to throwing hands.

“LeStrange?” He asked, wanting clarification over who the ‘she’ actually was. When you nodded into his chest, his arms tightened around you. “Ok,’ he whispered, “ok, how about we go assess the damage, hmm?” He guided you down the hall, ignoring the questions about what happened, and taking you straight to the clean bathroom.

George shut the door once you were sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He wasn’t quite sure if he was more heartbroken over the fact that you were shaking, struggling to breath and bouncing your leg rapidly or pissed that she dared to lay a hand on you. He knelt in front of you, a sad smile across his lips as he rubbed your knees. “What did she do, love?”

You told him about the wrecked house, the yelling, the headache, the tiny scabs on your shoulder and how she fucking stood on your hand. You left out the curse, worried he’d actually go over there himself and hex the daylights out of her. No one would admit it but any Weasley could easily go from lovable dorks to murderous slayers in 3.4 seconds if provoked correctly.

“Can I see your shoulder? I want to make sure it won’t get infected with whatever she carries.” His fingers gently pulled at the hem of your shirt, his eyes staring into yours as he waited for your approval. You suddenly found it hard to speak. He wasn’t gentle all the time, but when he was, it always stole your breath.

When you finally nodded and raised your arms, he slipped your shirt over your head. The fabric slipped from his grasp as he stared at your bare chest, shoulders and arms. You could see every emotion flickering past his irises- worry, sadness, anger.

“What?” You followed his gaze. Along your chest, stomach and shoulders, a bright red pattern of welts had formed. How you didn’t notice, you weren’t sure, but now that you were looking at them, they started throbbing. The marks seemed to mimic lightning bolts, but rounder, breaking apart and covering your body, but they all started at one spot. An angry lopsided organic shape stood out below your right peck, just on your rib cage- that was where the spell hit. The marks didn’t stop at your shoulders, or your neck. They traveled down to your very fingertips and a few made themselves known just along your jaw and across your cheek.

“(Y/n),” His use of your first name unnerved you, “what aren’t you telling me?” George’s hand reached out to gently touch where the bitch’s spell hit you while his eyes flicked up to yours. You stayed quiet, your chest shaking as you took in another nervous breath. You licked your lips, thinking over your next words carefully.

“She may have used the Cruciatus Curse on me.” You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers. You heard him take a sharp breath. He whispered a quick ‘can you give me a moment?’ before walking out of the bathroom. You heard his heavy footsteps travel down the hall before a door slammed open, rattling the mirror hanging on the bathroom wall.

“Freddie, I’m going to fucking lose it!” George’s voice carried easily through the hallway, causing you to jump. “No, I will not calm down! Shut up and listen!” The younger twin never spoke to his brother like that. “The crucio curse, Fred! The fucking, the, you know! For- I swear-” The door to the shared room slammed shut, the rattling mirror doing it’s thing again as you sat awkwardly in the bathroom alone. George kept going on and on about stuff you could no longer make out, but you could assume they were death threats sworn to come true.

After about 2 minutes, George came back, Fred trailing right behind him, a baggy Irish themed quidditch shirt and a pair of red sweatpants in his arms. George set the clothes down while Fred looked at the marks.

“Bloody hell.” Fred sat down next to you. “Do they still hurt?” He let out a sigh of relief when you shook your head no. “Thank Merlin for that.”

While Fred was chatting away, George had knelt in front of you again, his hand on the ball joint of your shoulder, his wand in his other hand. He whispered a quick healing curse on the five scabs before handing you the Irish t-shirt.

“You ok?” George asked once the shirt was on. His hands had come back to your knees at some point and you weren’t quite sure when, but you appreciated the familiar warmth.

“I don’t know. “ Your eyes were cast downward at the marks across your forearms and wrist, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I… Don’t you think they’re.. Meeeh?” You raised your arms a little, referring to the scars.

“Really?” The red-head trouble makers asked in unison, causing you to turn between them a few times.

“What?”

“Sunshine.” George spoke up from the floor, his hands twiddling together as he got your attention. He smiled a little when your eyes looked down into his. “Remember Umbridge?”

“Of course I do. I was there- I left with you guys-”

“Hush, I’m trying to be inspirational.” His words cause you to grin and snort. “Well, then you must remember the quill.” He brought his hand into your view, showing what he thought was oh so important he told you to hush. The scars from the quill were still there, only faded, but still extra pale against his normal tone. “You could hardly see ours anymore, love.”

You reached out for his hand hesitating, but in the end, you were running your fingers across the skin, noting the change in textures. You turned to Fred, who flashed you the same grin and held his hand up, revealing the same scars.

“Right..” You smiled, turning back to the twin you called yours. “They fade but-”

“-let you tell stories that strengthen you.” The twins finished, a wider smile on both of their faces. Fred stood up, ruffling your hair before heading out of the bathroom. George stood up after handing you the sweats.

“I’ll let you get dressed here, cupcake. Come on back to the room whenever you're ready.” George planted a kiss to your cheek before planting one swift one to your lips and heading out of the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

“What would Molly say?” You asked, changing your pants and confirming the scars did run down to your ankles.

“After what you went through? She wouldn’t have the heart to make you stay anywhere else.” George called through the door before walking down the hallway to his room. You splashed some cold water on your face, hoping to wash away some of the trauma today would leave behind.

Once your face was dry, you walked from the bathroom, to the shared room with the twins. You didn’t bother knocking once again, knowing you were more welcomed here than anywhere else. You plopped yourself on the bed, besides your boyfriend and snuggled into his side. Sure today would leave scars, mental and physical, but as George’s arms wrapped around you, you realized he was all you would need to stay intact in the end.

And yeah, George did keep his promise for revenge in the end.

#george weasley x male reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley #hp imagine #hp x reader #x male reader #male reader #fred weasley #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Albus Dumbledore being an awesome teacher and human being

Bubblegum Bitch - MARINA

(Imma be honest with y’all, it’s mostly just him being a crackhead.)

He tells stories about Grindelwald, about their marriage and their beliefs and their lives together. All of the stories have lessons - sure, a lot of those lessons are about how NOT to make pasta, but they’re still lessons!

He likes to matchmake students using seating charts and certain magical spell assignments. He’s very good at it. I mean, he’s shit at figuring out who likes each other, but he is great at meddling, so Mcgonogall tells him who to mess with and he does as he’s told. They make a great team (and are invited to a lot of weddings). Couples they’ve helped include but are not limited to: Dean and Seamus, Luna and Ginny, Hermione and Harry and Ron, Sirius and Remus, Peter and Maxwell Needles, Peter and Regulus (that was later), Lily and Severus and James, Fred and Lee plus George and Lee, Charlie and Newt (queerplatonic), Leta and Newt (queerplatonic), Harry and Luna (queerplatonic), and Sirius and James and Remus (queerplatonic). They’ve been very busy.

He and Mcgonogall have teatime almost every day. They talk about their students and work on their matchmaking plans. There’s a lot of sass and deadpanning involved. Sometimes they invite Remus, Sirius, and James. (Not Peter. He doesn’t need the same level of torturing that they do.) Bubbles of all shapes and sizes and colors float around the room the whole time. It’s fantastic.

He accepts gossip in exchange for extra credit. He’s a really good secret keeper too, so a lot of students go for it. (It hasn’t broken any friendships. There’s an understanding among the student population that Dumbledore is like Ms. Potts from that Muggle film Beauty and the Beast - well-meaning and trustworthy, but terribly, terribly bored.)

Everything in his classroom is pink. And glittery. And covered in sequins. Once a student asked him why and he just smirked for a solid minute before whispering, “Lemonade.” (As if that makes any fucking sense.)

He once taught class in a full-fledged glittery ballgown that faded from light pink to deep purple. He did not once acknowledge it or act like anything was out of the ordinary. One student raised their hand and asked timidly, “Professor? Why are you wearing a ballgown?” And his brow furrowed as he frowned, looked down at himself, and muttered, “Thought it was a bathrobe.” (Harry does not let him live this one down. His dad is not much help - Severus took many, many pictures.) (Not that it mattered. On Wednesdays Dumbledore wears pink (glittery ballgowns).)

He speaks to kids who have parents, friends, and relatives in prison, whether for being Death Eaters or otherwise. He chaperones visits to Azkaban for them so they can see their loved ones. He casts protective and invisibility charms on them so only the one they’re visiting can see or hear them, and he teaches them Patronuses (with Remus’ help, of course). He often spends these visits on the other side of Grindelwald’s bars, playing wizard’s chess against him. (Sometimes Grindelwald gives him flowers. It always makes Dumbledore smile. There may be no one left in the world who understands why they love each other, but they don’t need to understand it for it to be true.)

He stands at the front of the classroom and makes funny faces during tests and waits to see how long it takes for a student to look up. His latest record is seven minutes.

When he’s teaching Grindelwald’s history, he makes snarky comments about his husband. They range from “I mean really. Who the fuck thought wizards ruling Muggles was a good idea?” (Rest in peace that one student who thought it was a good idea to say, “You did, Professor.”) to “Honestly, that man has no concept of romance. I ask him for a nice night out and he takes me to a Muggle rally about witchcraft and tries to impress me by playing practical magical jokes on the speaker. A toddler could do that.” (He often gets mushy during those stories though, usually trailing off like “But that time he took me to my childhood home for my birthday was sweet… brought me flowers for Ariana’s grave and everything. Sure, he killed her, but… he has a sweet side…” and from there on out he’s basically a lost cause and you might as well go to your next class because he’s not going to stop humming that fucking Elvis song).

He “loses” his glasses all the time by casting an invisibility charm on them and forces his students to search the classroom for them when they’re on his face the whole time. He thinks it’s funny. Harry does not. (But Severus and Mcgonogall do, and that’s really what matters.) (Severus and Mcgonogall and Dumbledore are a fantastic trio full of snark and sarcasm and shit, I have just decided.)

He makes little animals out of multi-colored magical dust and they fly around the classroom and perch on his favorite students’ heads. Once a dragon fell asleep on Newt’s head and wouldn’t leave even when class was over. Newt had to wait for the magic to wear off so it would disintegrate. (Of course, he had named it by that point and had a meltdown when it disappeared, so Dumbledore recreates the dragon (Robert) every class and just lets Newt coo at it, even during tests.)

He conjured and charmed two giant (I mean Egypt half-animal half-man guard statue size giant) fluffy pink teddy bears that are alive and stand on either side of him like bodyguards during class. A Slytherin student punched one in the stomach once and it vomited enough M&Ms over their head to completely bury them. The student’s partner, a Ravenclaw student, punched the other one in an ill-advised burst of illogical thought and received the same treatment, but in Skittles. (Luckily their Gryffindor aro-ace friend and nonbinary Hufflepuff friend stayed after class and ate until they could move again. Safe to say no one has dared punch the bears again.) (Though I hear they do give very good hugs. And they eat homework if you ask nicely enough!)

He has a bunch of cloaks that act as portals to realms like Merlin’s Celestiums (S.G.E., Soman Chainani). He gives one to each student for tests, and they are transported to their ideal test-taking environments, complete with whatever song they feel like listening to at any given minute playing all around them. Unsurprisingly, his students have the best grades in all of Hogwarts. (He also has a secret cloak that he uses for himself, to see Grindelwald. Grindelwald has his own matching one so he can always make it home for Thursday date night.) (They have been caught. Of course they have. But no one is going to challenge Dumbledore for his right to see his husband, even if he did marry a murderer.) (Sirius and Remus used to steal the cloak for their own dates. And later on James would steal it to take the two of them on friend-dates. Inspired by that, Dumbledore made a special cloak for Mcgonogall that he gifted her on her fiftieth birthday. The smile she gave him then is his favorite of all time.)

He bickers with Fawkes constantly. This often evolves into full-fledged screaming matches with spastic hand gestures, gratuitous spit, and angry hops on both sides. Once Dumbledore drew wand on his “useless babbling bastard of a bird”. No one has bothered to tell Dumbledore that Fawkes probably can’t understand a word of their arguments. (They do evacuate the classroom when these fights start though. The last time they stayed their hair was gone for a week, and when it grew back it was glittery and pink.) (Harry looked especially fantastic. Sirius thought he looked great. He laughed until he was in tears. Harry was not amused.) (Remus was.)

Sometimes he’s absent from class and Mcgonogall teaches them instead. When asked if he’s alright, Mcgonogall simply answers, “My partner is away on personal business for the day. Now, turn to page -” Soon enough people figured out that “personal business” meant “conjugal visit with Genocidal Maniac Husband™ in prison”. They stopped asking.

He gives all of his students the red button test (without knowing what it does, do you press the red button?). Those who pass get automatic A’s and a lollipop. Those who fail get a talking pet pygmy puff. The thing that usually trips people up is that Dumbledore considers the “correct” answer to be pressing the goddamn button. (Seamus is the only one who has ever passed (enthusiastically too!). Newt half-passed because Niffy the Niffler sat on it.) (Sirius and James would have passed too if they had not been the life partners of one Remus Lupin, whose creativity with threats and extensive curse-word vocabulary rivaled Mcgonogall’s even at the tender age of fifteen.)

He has floating war maps just lying around. He plays battleship with his students on them. What he neglects to tell them is that their moves have actual consequences in the world, as the maps are magical and reflect real battles and places. When Harry finds out (he blew up Denmark, completely unawares) he shows up at Dumbledore’s door soaking wet at five-thirty in the morning with a newspaper, his fists clenched, his face red, and his chest heaving. He wouldn’t stop glaring for weeks. (Alas, Dumbledore’s glorious beard has great resistance to fire spells.) (Following an incident involving the original four Marauders in their third year. Shhh… we do not speak of that.)

He has a habit of walking into random classrooms, gesturing for a student to come with him with his finger, and then taking them to his office for teatime. He usually asks them inane questions about a specific theme (fish, pasta strainers, socks, throw pillows, mooses, etc.) for hours until finally dismissing them. It drives Mcgonogall crazy. (She’s yelled at him plenty for “kidnapping students to ask them questions you know you could easily find on that Muggle infer-het thing! They have exams, Albus -” but he just smiles at her while calmly sipping his tea and she always ends up collapsing in the chair across from him with a sigh, taking the tea from his hands and chugging it before wiping her mouth, slamming it down on the desk, and asking, “So. Fish. What’s up with them?” and Albus just beams.)

He spends half of his class lessons babbling on about how Merlin was gay for Arthur and Arthur was gay for Merlin, but not in long tangents. Just a bunch of random comments without context, warning, or explanation. (He mentions “poetry” a lot and waggles his eyebrows for some reason, so… what’s up with that? (Merlin BBC))

He overshares A LOT about his and Grindelwald’s lives. It’s a problem because 90% of the time it’s something sweet or innocent like “Oh, he brought me a tiger lily that bloomed open to show a gold and ruby ring nestled inside on our first anniversary. That’s how he proposed to me” and “He used to hum while he did the housework, you know? He’d stand in the middle of the house and close his eyes and just hum. Almost entire symphonies too, just waving his wand in the air like a conductor” to “This one time in bed he…” and there is NO warning. The amount of things these poor children’s ears have had to endure… (*shakes head in mock disappointment*)

He often cooks during class using wandless magic. The pots and pans heat themselves and float around in the air. Sometimes Dumbledore dances and then they start dancing too. He whistles and creates a base beat for the sizzling, popping, clanging, and other kitchen noises to follow. This usually happens during tests. Oh joy.

He leaves the windows open when it rains, but somehow nothing ever gets wet. Harry and Hermione have a theory that it’s protection charms. (Really it’s a spell Severus made up when he was drunk because he was angry that umbrellas don’t have enough room under them for three, and he’s always been the most self-sacrificial person in his marriage.)

He regularly makes bets with Mcgonogall about the students’ love lives. Not money, but little things the other doesn’t want to do or buy. Dumbledore usually has to handle the Marauders’ detentions or give up one of his teddy bear guards for Mcgonogall’s experimental enjoyments. Mcgonogall has to do something embarrassing or let him borrow one of her glittery hats. They should really stop making bets at this point; the stakes and the winners are dreadfully predictable. He always wins when the bet is on a student’s sexuality or gender and she always wins when the bet is on who a student will end up with. Nonetheless, the bets continue. So too does their grumbling amusement.

He figured out how to make a broom invisible when he and Grindelwald first fell in love, so they could be showy with each other at their Greater Good rallies. They later used it for dates, prison breaks, and daring escapes complete with kisses under the moon. Once Grindelwald went to Azkaban, Dumbledore used it to find some privacy where he could grieve. Now, he uses it to travel around his classroom and Hogwarts and trick everyone into thinking he can fly by sheer will. Only Mcgonogall knows his secret. (And Severus, but Dumbledore doesn’t know that because he told him when he was black out drunk. So.)

He lets pygmy puffs sleep in his beard. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

He once taught class while teetering on his feet because he had somehow gotten himself tangled in Christmas lights from shoulders to ankles and couldn’t move. (Sirius wandered in and saw this, cried he was laughing so hard, and then warbled his off-key way through as many Christmas carols as he could remember for the rest of class.) (Dumbledore tried to Silencio him but just fell over trying to make the wand movement. He broke his nose. Sirius almost had a panic attack because he couldn’t breathe from how hard he was laughing. By the end of this he had curled up in a fetal position on the floor, Remus was lying down next to him and muttering jokes to him, Mcgonogall was trying to fix Dumbledore’s face, and Severus had taken over the class. Not that they got much done - James was visiting that day. And him, Sirius, and Remus all laughing about the same thing rarely leads to a quiet and calm learning environment.) (They gave him a joint present of rainbow Christmas lights for his birthday - “Happy Gay Day, Professor!” - and he was not amused.) (Grindelwald was though. So was everyone else.)

He tends to mix up holidays in his head and often decorates for the wrong one. He goes all out too. He’s kind of a disaster, and so is his classroom. It became such a problem that the Marauders actually took pity on him and made him a very big calendar with all the holidays marked on it in glitter and fake jewels and flowers. It sits behind his desk and occasionally works.) (Occasionally.)

He’s queerplatonic partners with Mcgonogall. They held a friend-wedding and forced Severus to be the flowergirl. Harry officiated, Remus was Dumbledore’s best man, Sirius was Mcgonogall’s, James wasn’t given a job cause he was crying too much, Lily was in charge of taking care of James, and Peter was the ring bearer (he only lost them TWICE and they were ring pops anyway). Mcgonogall screeches at him a lot and Dumbledore can be depressive and neglectful because he misses Grindelwald but they love each other so it works. (And they’re the prime source of advice for James, Sirius, and Remus regarding their own queerplatonic relationship, for better or for worse.)

He puts his feet up on the desk even though it’s bad for his knees. Mcgonogall told him it’s bad for his knees and he has stubbornly put them up there every class since. (His knees are killing him but he will not give in to “a paranoid, batty old witch who doesn’t know shit about what’s good for me and wouldn’t if she was hit with an Imperio and I told her -” “I’M YOUR FUCKING PARTNER, YOU BLASPHEMOUS ARROGANT BRAT OF AN OLD FART!”)

Instead of walking around his classroom, he struts. (Yes, it worsens his knees.) He does strike poses, he does make obnoxious expressions, and he does look fabulous. WORK! (Yes, that was a Hamilton reference.)

He once taught class without a face because Mcgonogall cursed him for “fucking up the alphabetical organization of my tea, you old twit. Honestly, Albus, it’s not that hard”. (How did he teach without a mouth, you ask? Easy, he used intermediate BSL (deaf students, plus Azkaban isn’t great on old men’s ears and he and Grindelwald are both gettin’ up there) and Sirius interpreted.) (Incredibly wrongly, crudely, and foul-mouth-ly, but nonetheless he interpreted.)

He has difficulty understanding the straight people in his class. He is fully accepting of everyone and wants the best for all of them, but when it comes to relationship advice, he’s shit.

Excerpt pulled from Pensieve of a conversation he had with a student who identified as female:

Dumbledore: “So your boyfriend is a dick, is what you’re saying?”

Student’s best friend: “Yes. Merlin, he’s such a dick. Would you believe he -”

Dumbledore: *looks at student and points to her best friend* “Why don’t you just date her?”

*cue red faces and sputtering*

(They did not take his advice.)

He wears bowties ALL THE TIME. If he’s not wearing a bowtie, there are bows in his hair and tying the ends of his beard together. Once he wore pigtails. It was great.

He has a habit of bursting into song randomly and performing full-blown Broadway musical numbers (yes, he can rap Guns and Ships at full speed). This usually involves all of the complex moves to be expected in a musical - dramatically climbing up the stairs while looking forlorn, leaping onto the desk and squatting as you launch into a whispered limerick, speedy costume changes - you know, the works. Sometimes Sirius and James back him up, if they’re there. Severus will take over teaching with a bored look on his face (“What are you looking at, Harry?” “Dad, there’s -” “I don’t see anything interesting happening, Harry.” *glares*) while Mcgonogall screeches at Dumbledore to “GET THE FUCK DOWN, YOU NARCISSISTIC HEATHEN!” It’s a problem.

When the Marauders challenge the dress code, Dumbledore is the first Professor to encourage it. While Sirius is perfectly confident in a skirt and Regulus isn’t far behind (neither is Severus, surprisingly), James and Remus are far more insecure. Dumbledore wears a tutu to class one day to show his support, and Remus wouldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day. (James just turned bright red and beamed when Sirius started laughing.) He also backed Lily up when she wore pants (along with Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary) by convincing Mcgonogall to wear pantsuits for a week. (Sirius, despite being a hardcore gay, was quite affected by this. Remus did not appreciate the water spit in his face and refused to kiss Sirius for a week.)

He plays Cecily Smith (Will Connolly) on the ukulele on late nights and stares out at the stars thinking of Grindelwald. Sometimes he forgets to turn off the Sonorus from earlier that day and ends up broadcasting his little song to the whole school. Sirius and Remus will dance to it in the common room while James watches his partners with a happy smile on his face (and Peter sleeps, because he’s tired and doesn’t force himself to stay up simply for the purpose of being cool or finishing that one assignment that isn’t due for another two weeks) (I’m sorry, do you feel called out?).

This man has weed brownies stashed away in his desk and he does eat them during class. He also offered one to Remus once, who is the only student that knows about the stash and tends to use marijuana for medical purposes (helping with anxiety and pain regarding the full moon, courtesy of my beautiful girlfriend who has never read nor seen Harry Potter but nonetheless insists to me that Remus Lupin is a stoner who wears red beanies). This prompted Sirius to ask for one, which Dumbledore refused, but then James joined in and they started a riot by standing on their desks and pumping their fists in the air and screaming, “BROWNIES FOR ALL!” while Remus giggled into his hand and was no help at all, so Dumbledore gave them each a brownie just to shut them up. (Sirius wouldn’t stop rambling about how pretty Remus’ eyes were, James was babbling on about unicorns, Severus was hissing at something no one else could see, Regulus was hissing at the same thing for some reason, Peter was crying because he couldn’t tell the difference between hamsters and gerbils and guinea pigs, and Lily was muttering pi under her breath until she fell asleep.) (Mcgonogall was unimpressed.) (No teatime for eight weeks. Damn.)

Dumbledore cares about all of his students, however little he shows it. He wants them to lead a better life than he did. And maybe fall in love with better people than he did.

#albus dumbledore #albus wulfric percival brian dumbledore #mcgonogall &x dumbledore #&x means queerplatonic i have just decided #grindledore #wolfstar #james &x remus &x sirius #severus & mcgonogall & dumbledore #james x lily x severus #albus dumbledore is a crackhead 2021 #i dunno please enjoy this shit #i'm really fucking tired #harry potter #have a nice day y'all

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years

Note

NSFW (whole alphabet) for Maul?

A/N: PLEASE REMEMBER TO COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS! HEADCANONS NEED LOVE TOO YOU KNOW! (Also the tags are not working because they hate me)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s gentle, shockingly so. No matter how rough or intense, his entire demeanor shifts. He treats you like glass; caressing your skin, cleaning your mess, and reveling in the lingering warmth. He becomes one clingy bitch is what I’m getting at here.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your throat. He loves how you leave it so open to him, to kiss or bite or squeeze as he wishes. It’s a sign of trust, not to mention it leads down to your chests and all the other soft parts attached. (He’s a boob man, that’s all I’m saying)

As for himself, he likes his hands. They still hold his true strength. They can still wield the force to his will; to destroy his enemies or to place a gentle touch to your cheek. He’s amazed that you can allow him to touch you after how much his hands have done.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He makes a mess whenever you fuck. He likes to cum on you; on your tits, stomach, back, face, anywhere. But he really loves cumming inside you and watching it drip from your sex. Even if he can’t give you children, the idea of burying his seed in you is an instinct he can’t shake. Would love nothing more than to keep his cock inside you and fill you again and again with him cum until it spills out on the bed.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There are times he purposefully makes you angry because he knows how you’ll punish him later. He’s not sure if you’ve caught on or not, but either way you play into his scheme perfectly.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very before you. He was taken by Sidious at a very young age; as a Sith he was trained to forgo attachments and obey his master at every turn. Sidious would not allow his apprentice any chance to form a connection with another aside from taking him back to Dathomir to fulfill a coming of age ritual where he was taken by a Night Sister. After that, nothing.

But, for what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in his willingness to learn. He asks what you want, what you like. He feels your reactions through the force and demonstrates a control you hadn’t found in previous lovers. He can be patient when it counts.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves it when you’re both kneeling, with you straddling his waist a he thrusts up into you. He’s able to reach deep inside you while allowing either of you to gain control as you wish it. Not to mention easy access to your throat and breasts as he clings to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Maul is 99.9% of the time completely serious during sex. Either his focus is entire on your pleasure or you’ve given him permission to work out his frustrations using your body. The only time he’d crack a joke is if he’s feels particularly smug about the way he’s making you feels and wants to tease you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No hair down below, because, well...he doesn’t really have a natural below. I doubt Mother Talzin added hair just for the fun of it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As I said before Maul has two modes; I need to fuck away my feelings OR you are the most important thing in the galaxy let me show you why. When he’s in mode two, he’s the most intimate and romantic partner you can ask for, almost desperate in his attempt to show you how you make him feel. If it’s option one, you’ll have to wait until after the sex to get the same treatment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pre-Naboo, he kept it on the down low. He could only allow himself a moment’s release when his master wasn’t around. And even then, it was only when he was particularly stressed or angry. It was done quickly with no real thought of pleasure, just some kind of release if he couldn’t do it through violence.

After Naboo, it’s not really something he does because well...there’s not much down there for a good long while and after he gets some of his...parts back, he meets you. With you, he doesn’t feel as compelled to use his hands.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink. He can’t give you children, obviously, but there’s an almost instinct there. Just another thing Kenobi took away form him.

Also, not sure if it’s a kink, but he’s an absolute switch. One minute he’s squeezing your neck while using you as his personal cum bucket. The next, he’s tied to the bed begging and promising you the galaxy if you just let him cum.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a bit of an exhibitionist. As much as he wants to be the only one to see you naked and writhing underneath him, there’s something about fucking you on the throne of Mandalor that sends a thrill up his spine. Anyone can walk in and know that he’s the one making you feel this way. He has the power to fuck you in front of the whole of Death Watch if he wanted to and none of them could touch you. They would know you were his and as their leader they would not dare oppose him.

So, in terms of most common place, your bedroom. In terms of most thrilling place, the throne room, followed by the war room, and then the training room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You getting angry is the hottest thing in the galaxy to him. If you direct that anger into destroying your enemies in combat, even better. He’ll take you the second you’re alone in the ship.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Roleplaying. It’s you and him, that’s it. He doesn’t want or need to “spice things up”.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving. He loves your taste and how easily he can get you to cum with just his tongue. He can feel your pleasure through the force which only drives his further. Granted he needs to be mindful of where his horns are when you clamp him head between your thighs but that’s neither here nor there.

He’ll certainly accept you going down on him, but he knows it’s not as pleasurable for you to have a metal cock in your mouth no matter how good it feels for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be slow an sensual, but it almost always devolves into rough desperation. He’s a man of wild passions and it shows in the marks on your thighs the next morning.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’re almost always the one to initiate them. He says he can wait until the evening, but he’s often left working well into the night and forgets. You take it upon yourself to strive into his office and tell him you need a good fuck. That will get him away from the paper work long enough to leave your legs shaking and his mind a little more clear.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to try something you propose so long as you discuss it properly before hand. He wants to make sure you’re safe before trying anything.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It’s absolutely insane how high his stamina is. For one, he’s got a mechanical cock that doesn’t actually get soft even after he cums. Second, his reliance on the force allows him to recoup faster than normal. He can go for an many rounds as you can stand for as long as you want.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

That will be a negative. He doesn’t have any toys and the idea of you having a toy when all you have to do is ask he finds more than a little insulting.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He always does it when he’s trying to win an argument or make a point, and it’s infuriating. He likes hearing you beg or admit he was right all while he teases you clit with the promise of more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Maul gets loud. It’s almost a defiance. His master would not allow him anything like this singular happiness with another being and now he’s taking it at his own pleasure. He screams and growls and moans and begs and every other noise in the book. He wants people to hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Maul wants to have kids with you, and that fact that he can’t really aches at him. He wants something that is truly his own; a legacy outside of the Sith, a final defiance to the master who abandoned him. They would be the best of both of you and unparalleled in their power. Nothing would stand in their way. He can see it in his minds eye every time you fall asleep in his arms. But, it can never be. If Mother Talzin had figured out a way to make life without the need of Zabrak men, he wouldn’t have been a Night Brother in the first place.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Like I’ve said, Maul’s entire lower half is mechanical, including his cock. Mother Talzin made him one which retracts back in when he’s not aroused. It’s shaped like a Zabrak male: three ridges, each wider than the last giving him good length and girth (look up Nova: Bad Dragon). It also gives him pleasure, which is better than a dilo and excretes a synthetic cum when he climaxes.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s not so much a sex drive as a yearning for you. There are times he just wants you, to hold you close, to bury himself inside you and forget anything exists outside of you. It’s in flux, but it’s certainly higher than most men you’ve known. You’re having sex at least every other night if not more.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t dare fall asleep until you do. He likes the feeling of your body relaxing beside his as you drift off. He likes knowing you trust him to keep you safe, even in sleep. Only when he knows there’s nothing lurking in the dark to take you away does he finally fall asleep.

#darth maul #maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #the clone wars #star wars #star wars imagine #lemon

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gallickingun · 4 years

Note

so i saw the post about kissing that you reblogged and that made me think... imagine reader retweeting that on twitter and bakugou sees it, then proceeds to kiss her at random times the next day which really flusters her and she wonders why he's doing this because they normally don't advertise the fact that they're dating

a/n: this is a lot of all over the place randomness but... i kind of love it??? short little blurby about bakubaby treating you right!!!

ps, i can’t do anything short, can i? couple hundred words ahead lol

Bakugou had always been possessive over what he deemed as his.

So, it’s somewhat strange, when he doesn’t necessarily lay claim to you in front of all his friends.

Sure, Kirishima and Mina know that the two of you are secretly attached at the hip, and Denki may or may not raise a brow when you get too close to one another, but overall it’s not necessarily well known that you have been exclusive to one another for the past few months.

Bakugou is genuinely secure in your relationship; the one constant in his life now that the Pro Hero Sidekick gigs are taking off. He knows that when he calls, you’ll answer, and that there is never too much of him for you to handle. Honestly, he never thought much about the fact that you didn’t really show much affection in public because you were on his mind every moment not premeditated on training exercises and patrols and skirmishes in the streets.

No, your affection comes in small doses, here and there and always in private. And you know that the Pro Hero life will be a lonely one at times, but you can’t help the insatiable need for physical affection. It’s something instilled in you, bred in you maybe. The unbreakable desire to feel the pads of his bare fingers, his knee slotting between your thighs as he lays closer to tell you about his day. You even wish you could just feel his hands on the crown of your head, maybe a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

At this point, after a couple of weeks of non-stop action in the streets, you start to grow restless. Your publicist says you need to show more attention to social media, so you take to Tweeter when you have a second to breathe in the agency locker room.

It doesn’t take long for you to find a relationship-based account that posts sappy quotes and cute photos; it makes your heart ache and long for something a little more concrete than what you have now - something just a smidge more open.

In a moment of haste, you post a response to a specific original comment: I was extremely kissable today and do you know how many kisses I received???? Zero!!!

It’s something harmless; a gentle joke with your growing audience. You need to prove to them that you’re relatable, which is all that you’re doing. It couldn’t have come from the darkness of your mind that clouds your vision at night, begging you to crawl into Katsuki’s bed at ungodly hours of the night even if he’s not there; even if the two of you aren’t there yet.

It is another night spent alone, cold ramen on the coffee table as you fall asleep on the couch to old training tapes of yourself replaying on the television. You were trying to pick apart your every misstep, but all you could focus on was the way your body aches for your lover. Your blood beats heavy in your chest, the sound deafening to your ears when the pulse throbs at your temples and in your jugular. The edges of you crave something solid to fall against, to fall into.

You want Katsuki.

Instead, you step into your hero shoes and get ready to conquer another day at the agency.

When you step out of your car, you’re surprised to find Bakugou’s vehicle parked next to your usual spot. Even though he’s an early riser, he’s usually patrolling or attending appointments during the morning hours, so it’s a bit out of sorts to see his car already in it’s place.

The front door is pulled open for you by a familiar face - ashen blonde hair framing crimson irises, a small smile tugging on his full lips. You tilt your had in silent questioning as you step over the threshhold and into your persona for the day.

You let out a strangled sound when those very lips find yours, right in the middle of everything, the hallway full of people turning to look at the two of you.

“Good morning,” he murmurs as he steps away from you, vermillion irises trailing over your frame, “sorry I didn’t make it over last night. Patrol was a bitch.”

You shake your head but you can’t reply because your mind is foggy, dizzy in its haze to attempt and figure out why he’s done what he’s done. There are several people staring at you now, mouths slightly agape at the obvious display of affection that is rather unusual for the pair of you. Most of those that you’ve now given full access to the validity of your relationship only hinted and gossiped about it prior, unsure if the lingering gazes you might send one another are truly that of longing rather than carelessness.

“S’okay,” you manage, “no big.”

He’s smiling, squeezing your arm before turning to walk his own way. You’re left breathless in the front entryway, hand covering your mouth as you watch him fade further into the hallway until he’s boarding the elevator.

You blink once, squeezing your eyelids tightly so you see stars. And then you take the first step forward to start your day, desperately trying to ignore the effervescent champagne bubbles in your belly but failing miserably with each passing moment.

The tap on your door at lunchtime brings your attention back to the present, eyes finding the bulky frame of one Pro Hero: Ground Zero at your door. Your jaw goes slack but you stand to your feet anyway, “H-Hey, what’s up?”

“Can’t I take my girlfriend to lunch and it not be a whole thing?” Bakugou clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. “C’mon, dummy, let’s go.”

Bakugou actually takes you by the hand - a gesture he hardly does even in the confines of your personal home - and walks you towards the food court near the center of the agency. When you stand in line, he kisses the back of your head and pulls you closer to him. The people around you stop and stare and you know it’s because the big, bad Ground Zero finally appears to have shown that he has a heart.

The pair of you eat in relative silence, focused on scarfing down the food in front of you before you turn to speech. Bakugou is finished first, kicking his feet up on the chair next to yours. He smiles across the table at you and offhandedly asks you about your day.

Through a mouthful of noodles you mutter something along the lines of a whole lotta paperwork, which makes him laugh. You tilt your head, marveling at this new version of your significant other. You aren’t sure if you should enjoy it or be worried, but the revelry you’re sharing in the way people look at the two of you now that he is being openly affectionate makes you keep your mouth shut for the time being.

It is only when he drops you back off at your doorstep and asks you to consider taking the rest of the day off with a kiss to your cheek that you finally broach the burning topic. The words are like acid on your tongue, “What is going on with you?”

Bakugou brushes his thumb over your jaw, leaning back enough to look in your eyes. Something falters in him and you step closer, palms finding his chest, “Katsuki, did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he snaps immediately. Bakugou turns his face away from you so he can compose himself, “I did something wrong.”

Your mind wants to flood with the horrible things he could be talking about, but Bakugou is already interjecting with another sentence before your imagination can wander too far off of a cliff.

“I saw what you posted yesterday and I feel like I’m being a really shitty boyfriend by not just fucking telling people that we’re together.” He runs his hands over your arms, tucking his thumbs into your gloves, “This is my way of trying to make up for it.”

The tips of your cheeks are painted pink and you can’t help it when you surge up to kiss him square on the lips. The action leaves him breathless, eyes half-lidded as he tries to work himself down from the adrenaline rush.

You bite your lip, “I just decided that I’m taking the rest of today off.”

Bakugou cups your face, fingertips tickling the nape of your neck, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x oc #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki one shot #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki blurb #bnha one for all #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagine #bnha blurb #morgan writes bnha #my writing

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miss-bakukiri · 3 years

Text

A good nights rest

18+ | Aged up Bakugou x Fem reader | Slight degradation

y/n = Your Name

2150 words This is a bit of fluff story that builds up into smut scene. So if your looking for pure smut (lemon) that’s not what this is. I hope you enjoy it. Its my first short story. Let me know if you want a prologue or part 2! ---- As a rule you don’t let your hookups spend the night. It can send the wrong message that you are interested in something more than fulfilling a need. But then again Bakugou always does what he wants and you have broken your rules just by letting him come see you on a regular biases. Just for sex though, you don’t have time for anyone needy. Which is why Bakugou was the perfect hook-up, he didn't have time for that either. You watch him snooze in your bed, considering waking him up for another round. You decide against that knowing the pro hero needed his sleep. Instead you direct your attention to the gauntlets he left by your door.

Today he had showed up at your door in full gear, smoke still steaming off of him from a recent encounter that had apparently been very close to your apartment. You were a support engineer and his gear had intrigued you from the beginning. They looked cool but you thought you could make some improvements. So you grab one and head down to your workshop, knowing full well you might get in trouble later.

You worked freelance to keep your creative freedom so you had everything you need just below your apartment. Hours pass in a blur and suddenly big arms encircle you. “What the fuck do you think you are doing Y/n” Bakugou growls in your ear from behind, sending a shiver down your body.

Acting perfectly calm you turn to face him and say matter of factually “Making you more badass”. He scoffs and replies sounding a bit annoyed but intrigued “oh ya? How so?”

A sly smile spreads across your face, you were not in trouble... yet. “Did you know the sweat in your palms isn’t pure nitro?” You ask in a way that was obvious you already knew he didn’t know.

Bakugou starts to ask you how you knew that but then stops himself knowing that at any point you could have gotten a sample from him while he was asleep.

You explain that you created a way to concentrate his sweat into pure nitroglycerin and the rest evaporates through a vent. This allowed you to design a much less bulky gauntlet. Instead of looking like one big grenade your CAD drawing looked more like packs of explosives strapped on his arm. “Each one holds quite a powerful concentrated amount of your nitro. It’s smaller but holds almost twice the power. So less bulky and more efficient!” you explain.

Bakugou evaluates your design, showing no sign of being pleased or pissed until he finally says “Okay. Make it” You squee out loud in excitement. “I’ve rigged my shop to start the machining process automatically so I just have to hit start for now and check on it again in a few hours”

Looking you up and down Bakugou asks “you sleep at all?” and you just look away not saying anything. “It’s 4am, you should get a few hours in” he says sternly.

You miss a lot of sleep and meals when you get into a project. Laser focused on perfecting the task in front of you. Bakugou has forced you to eat and sleep in the past, claiming that he needed his favorite toy charged up for him next time. He fusses a lot more than you would have guessed considering he is ranked at #1 least friendly of new Pro Heros.

Sensing your incoming protest Bakugou picks you up princess style and carries you upstairs. You squirm and resist his firm grip, knowing it’s useless against his strength. “HEY! if you don't sit still I’ll throw you over my shoulders like a sack” You knew all too well that wasn't a bluff and spitefully obeyed him. Bakugou lays you down somewhat gently in the bed and holds you to his chest. “Go to sleep” he commands. You can’t help at giggle at the fact that he’s being so nurturing to a hook up."Oi, what the hell are you giggling at?” he asks in an obviously annoyed tone. “I know you just wanted me rested for a good fuck later but i can take care of myself. No need to pretend you give a damn.” you reply flatly while tracing your fingers over his firm chest. Suddenly he shoves you back and takes you by the jaw so you are forced to look him in the eyes. Leaning slightly over you with his deadly eyes fixed on yours he growls “You are the dumbest smart person I have ever met. I mean really how is it possible you are this dense”

Confusion and anger sweeps over you. Bakugou was really angry right now. More angry than he has ever been around you. “I am not DUMB” you yell back defensively. “Oh ya then answer this question, what the fuck about my personality says I would stick around and look after someone I don't give a damn about” he yells. And it dawned on you. Bakugou isn’t the type to make sure someone that doesn’t matter to him eats regularly or sleeps enough. In fact at first he would just fuck you and leave. But he started sleeping over sometimes. You figured he was just tired from his work. I mean there is NO WAY Bakugou Katsuki would ever get attached to some random hookup. Right? But then why did he start cooking you breakfast in the mornings or check to make sure you were drinking enough water... How did you miss this? The whole reason you decided to keep this up is because you thought for sure there was no risk of this happening. You’re not the type to miss details... Bakugou loosened his grip on your face seeing that it was starting to hit you. He didn't rush you though. It was an uncharacteristic show of patience. You stared at him. You wanted him. And not just sexually. Somehow he has become comfortable in your life. Looking back over the last few weeks you realized you would even miss him when we was gone. A small joy would flutter in your heart when you heard him knock.. you had written this off excitement for getting laid.. you had been lying to yourself for weeks now. Finally you managed to say in a quite voice “You like me” A cocky and small grin spread on Bakugou’s face “About fucking time” he said as he leaned in and kissed you sweetly. This was a kiss Bakugou has never given you before. Usually his kisses were rough and passionate. You felt this kiss through your whole body and for the first time in a long time your felt vulnerable beneath someone. Pulling back from you Bakugou traced his thumb on you bottom lip and said “And you like me.” A small tear ran down your face. You had shut out so many emotional needs and just focused on work for so long. You hadn't wanted this but somehow Bakugou got through to you. That asshole. You take him into a deep and passionate kiss. This lights a fire in Bakugou and he returns your show of enthusiasm by pushing you forcefully against the bed and holding your wrists in his hands. He begins to kiss down your chest and nip at the tender flesh of your breasts. You let out small moans as he pulls your tank top down and reaches your nipples. He starts sucking and biting at your nipples with a dedicated enthusiasm. Your whole body feels hot and your back arches against his hold on you. His head drops down your stomach to between your thighs, finally releasing you from his grip. Your hands quickly grasp his hair as he kisses your clit through your wet panties. “That didn’t take much. You are soaked y/n” he says wickedly, making you whine. Bakugou bites your inner thigh and then licks it to sooth any pain. He is perfect at pushing your limits, knowing exactly how far to go. Little bite marks now line both of your thighs and you wiggle your hips begging for attention to be brought to your puffy clit. Sliding your soaked panties to the side he takes his finger and rubs your clit in small circles but its not enough so you attempt to grind against his fingers. He pulls back and says “Greedy fucking bitch” before suddenly shoving two fingers inside your tight pussy. The shock sending electricity up your body and for a moment he finger fucks you with the intensity you have been begging for before stopping. You let out a sad moan at the loss of your fullness. Before you can complain further he lowers his head to your clit and begins licking your clit forcefully. Again causing you to surge with sudden pleasure. You hear him moan in satisfaction. You knowing he is getting off on making you feel good. The vibrations from his moan hitting your clit in exquisite pleasure. He slides two fingers inside you again and finds that magic spot curving upward and hits it again and again. Each stroke sending you towards your climax. Knowing you are close he intensifies his tongue strokes and you release on his fingers, your tight walls clenching around him in orgasmic pulses. Before you can come down off your high he sits up and pulls out his dick, red and twitching from waiting so long. He strokes himself a few times to spread precum from his tip across his shaft, while marveling at how much of a mess you are from your orgasm. “You're so damn beautiful y/n” he says quietly as he inserts himself into you, filling you completely. Overstimulated from your recent organism his entering your body sends intense pleasure through you. Bakugou thrusts himself into you at a brutal pace, overwhelming your cunt. He holds your hips tight so he can be fully within you. Quickly you start to build up to your climax with each lightning thrust from Bakugou. Stopping just before your climax Bakugou pulls out and turns you over easily as of you weigh nothing, once again sliding into you as deep as he can from behind. He reaches his arm around you to hold you by the neck and pull your back up to his chest. Firmly choking you by pressing on the sides of your neck. You begin to feel your pleasure heighten as you melt in his arms completely. “Good girl” he whispers in your ear. You feel his hot breath on your neck and it sends shivers down your body. Using his other hand he begins to rub your clit “do you want to cum” he asks in a deep growl “ye.. yes” you chock out. “I’m not convinced. Beg me.” he commands in a whisper as he slows his thrusts. You cry at the loss of his momentum. “Please. I want to cum. Please Katsuki” you say desperately in your overstimulated and dumb state. At hearing his first name come from your lips for the first time katsuki goes over the edge, pumping wildly into you while rubbing your clit. “Cum for me. Cum like a good girl y/n” he says out of breath and almost on command you release and ride out your orgasm on him. It melts over you in waves and you moan as loudly as you can through his grip. Your walls tighten and spasm around his dick and send him into his own release, filling you with his hot cum. He gently lowers you onto the bed, again taking in the site of you and smiling in satisfaction at job well done. He knows no one could ever fuck you as good as he does. You love seeing this look of pride in his face when you’re done, because it means you did good too. Said the right things, begged in the right ways to make him go that level of crazy. Without saying a word he walks over and gets you a glass of water and a towel. He is always good at after care. After you both come down from your highs you look at him and ask “So can I call you Katsuki now?” he smirks and says “Duh, I am your boyfriend. You can call me what you want... except Kacchan or Blasty.” You feel your blush on your face at his words and you ask shyly “You’re my boyfriend now?” Looking at you directly Katsiki replies “Ya, if you want me to be.” Blushing now even more red than before you answer “Yes. And I am your girlfriend” you say just barely holding his gaze. Not being able to handle how cute this all was you buried your face in his chest and the both of you drift into a much needed rest.

#mha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha #bnha smut #mha fan #bnha fanfiction #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katuski x reader

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skinsharpenedteeth · 3 years

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Coming Up Easy - The First Dance

You can also check this out on AO3!!

Michael reclined in bed against the pillows he’d stacked against the wall so he could read his phone, drink a beer, and be semi-comfortable. It’d been a long, long day and he was having trouble winding down from it. He’d put on one of Isobel’s Spotify playlists on random while he dicked around on his phone. He knew what he wanted to do. He’d been scrolling through his photo’s gallery for ten minutes staring at the few pictures he had of them together. He wished he had more. He was pointedly trying to stay out of the private file he had that definitely showed more of them together because he’d been visiting that file way too often since Alex had moved.

Finishing his beer, Michael chucked the empty bottle into the trash and opened a new one. Feeling daring, he shot Alex a text.

Me 10:02 p.m. >> You up?

Alex 10:03 p.m. >> I am. In fact, I’m cooking.

Me 10:05 p.m. >> I call bullshit. You hate cooking.

<<Alex is requesting a video chat session: Accept?>>

Biting his lip, Michael had a second to wonder how he was going to look before saying ‘Fuck it’ and pushing his thumb against the accept key. Alex’s face filled his phone screen and Michael would be lying to say his heart didn’t flutter a little at the sight of his slightly red, smiling face.

“Oh my God, I missed your face,” Alex said without preamble. Michael found himself smiling despite himself.

“Yeah? Need me to send you pictures daily?” Michael teased.

“No, I don’t want to get spoiled. This is a treat for me. I’ve been looking at strangers for weeks now,” Alex replied. Michael was trying not to stare because Alex looked so good and it just made Michael want to go over to his place and tackle him against the refrigerator. He couldn’t though. That sort of thing would take planning and plane tickets and passports and so much more work than it did a month ago. Sighing to himself, Michael tried to keep the conversation flowing.

“Any cute ones?” Michael asked, kicking himself immediately. Alex’s eyebrows drew together for a moment before he wiped the expression away.

“Uh, not yet. I’ll probably have to get on a dating app or something to really meet people,” Alex replied awkwardly, smile turning brittle as he spoke. Faintly, Michael could hear music in the background of Alex’s kitchen.

“So what are you listening to while you cook? And what are you cooking? You burned a peanut butter and jelly sandwich once!” Michael exclaimed, eyes flitting around the screen trying to see behind Alex’s head. Alex rolled his eyes, but his smile was more genuine.

“I’m listening to that new Miley Cyrus song “Can't Stop”. Have you heard it?” Alex asked, moving closer to his Bluetooth speaker and turning up the volume so Michael could listen in.

“No, I haven’t. I’ll have to listen to it later, sounds good,” Michael commented. Alex was closing his eyes and the phone was swaying like he was dancing to the music.

“Oh shit, I’m going to put you down on the counter. I gotta stir,” Alex exclaimed a moment later and suddenly Michael could see much more of Alex’s apartment kitchen and of Alex himself. He was wearing his old MCR t-shirt they’d spent one night turning into a tank top and sweatpants. The large, gaping armholes showed off the hint of muscle on his back and chest and made Michael’s mouth water and his entire body ache with want to touch him. He watched Alex grab a spatula and start stirring it around a frying pan, hips still moving with the beat of the song as he concentrated. Michael had to clear his voice as his mouth went suddenly dry at the visual of those hips in action. Alex had always been good with rhythm, but being best friends with Liz had also given him a swivel to his dancing style that was frankly indecent.

“So, uh, what are you cooking?” Michael asked again, trying not to get too mesmerized by Alex dancing and mouthing the words to the song into the end of the spatula when he wasn’t stirring.

“Stirfry. Something so basic even I can’t fuck it up, hopefully,” Alex joked. He picked the phone up so he could turn the camera for Michael to look in the pan. Looked like soggy frozen veggies mixed with overcooked chicken in something that might’ve been brown sauce.

“Looks great,” Michael lied as Alex put the phone back down. Alex looked at him for a moment and started laughing.

“Okay, it looks like dog vomit, but it’ll be edible. Someone never taught me how to cook, despite being excellent at it,” Alex joked, giving Michael a dirty look through the phone. Fuck, Michael wanted to kiss that look off his face.

“I was trying to make my friendship indispensable to you. Apparently, I failed since you moved to another country and left me to languish in the desert alone and lonely,” Michael said dramatically. Alex barked out another laugh before turning back to the pan and shaking his head down at it. He moved it off the heating element and flipped the dial. Michael watched him as he bent over and settled on his elbows in front of the phone. He looked… well, Michael was glad his own camera was facing front.

“You’re indispensable to me no matter what, even without the cooking lessons. Just you wait, you’ll come up here for a visit and soon I’ll have a roommate,” Alex joked.

“We’ll see about that,” Michael retorted as another song came on. The song immediately sent him back to a small, dusty shed that smelled like sweat, metal, wood, and damp cotton. He could feel Alex’s warm hands on his hips nudging him to shift with the beat to the left and right while they both stared at his bare feet.

“Is this….?” Michael started but stopped as he became sure that it was. Alex had been looking over his shoulder towards the speaker and when Michael spoke up, he turned back to the phone. His cheeks were slightly pink and he looked sheepish.

“Yeah, this is Hellogoodbye. Remembering the same thing I am?” Alex asked, looking at Michael nervously through the phone. Michael let his head fall back against the wall behind him and he took a long pull from his beer before answering.

“Yeah, I think so. You teaching me to dance for prom?” Michael asked, not looking at the phone but hearing Alex clear his voice.

“Yeah, that,” he answered, voice subdued. They fell into silence and Michael had no doubt they were both trapped in a shared memory.

“I don’t even want to go to prom. I’ve managed to miss every other dance in high school, I don’t see why Isobel is so insistent I go to this one!” Michael raged, walking the length of the Mane’s shed back and forth while Alex watched from the futon. They were both shirtless and slightly sweaty, only partially dressed after their makeout and hand job session. Alex was leaned over with his elbows on his knees watching Michael warily.

“It’s just a dance, Michael. Go if it’ll make her happy. I’m going, you can come hang out with me,” Alex said, tone slightly exasperated. He’d been listening to Michael bitch about Isobel’s insistence for him to go to prom for a week already and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Michael stopped and looked at him, arms raised and expression clearing asking ‘Are you actually agreeing with her?!’. Alex just kept looking at him blankly. ‘Yes,’ his expression replied. ‘I’m agreeing with her.’ With a defeated sigh, Michael let his arms drop suddenly and slap against his sides.

“I don’t even know how to dance,” he mumbled, almost too low for Alex to hear him. Alex gave him a complicated look, somewhere between amusement and pity.

“That’s easy enough to fix. I can teach you that much,” Alex replied, standing up.

“What? No, I don’t want to know! It’s just going to be weird. I’m not going to have anything to do except stand around and drink punch. It’s going to be expensive and lame,” Michael whined, even as he watched Alex go over to his iPod and put it into the stereo he’d brought out to the shed. He ignored Michael’s protests and found a song with an easily recognizable beat. It started up, sounding poppy and electronic, and Michael rolled his eyes. Alex caught him at it.

“Hey, this is going to be easy. Quit being such an ass about it,” Alex griped, coming to stand in front of Michael. He placed his hands on Michael’s hips and looked him straight in the eyes. “Okay. Just follow my movements. Right now we’re just finding the beat.”

Michael swallowed and nodded, throat suddenly dry at the feeling of Alex being close to him and semi-nude and touching him. It seemed Alex put him on a hair-trigger to want sex. With a gentle push and pull, Alex moved Michael and himself back and forth until they were swaying with the beat.

“Okay, this is literally the most basic form of slow dancing. It’s just swaying from side to side. Put your hands on my shoulders and just keep following me,” Alex instructed. Michael raised his arms and lazily draped his arms over Alex’s shoulders like he’d seen every girl do in every teen movie ever. He’d rolled his eyes again as he did it and Alex pinched his side for his sass. “I’m doing you a favor, dipshit. Be nice.”

“Ow! Fine, fine. I’ll be nice. Now what?” Michael asked as they continued to sway. It felt so weird to be standing there in Alex’s shed just shifting his weight back and forth. Without warning, Alex began to pull Michael’s body closer to him while he moved back too. Michael stumbled a little, his foot stepping on the one Alex had kept still.

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t explain. That’s my bad,” Alex apologized once they’d untangled themselves. He grabbed Michael’s hips again and began the original swaying. Once they’d gotten back in rhythm with the song, Alex tried to explain. “So we’re going to basically be moving in a box. Whoever’s leading, so me this time, is always outlining the box with their movements while whoever’s following, you, is tracing the inside of the box.”

Michael gave him a confused look. Making a discontent noise, Alex stepped close until his stomach and hips were resting against Michael’s. Michael gave him a wide-eyed look, wondering if Alex had decided to save dancing for later and more fucking for now…

“Close your eyes,” Alex ordered. Michael closed them obediently, waiting for the gentle pressure of Alex’s lips against his. Instead, Alex continued talking. “Now follow my lead.”

Michael felt the pull of Alex’s body to the right and he instinctually followed. Then Alex moved him backward. It threw Michael off for a second, but then he felt the gentle pressure of Alex’s left leg pressing against his right and he moved that leg back. Then they glided to the left and then Alex was pulling Michael forward. This time he felt which of Alex’s legs was staying still and which was moving away and followed suit. They did this two more times before he felt Alex’s breath by his ear.

“This is a box step. You’re dancing,” he whispered. Despite the heat of the spring day which baked against the poorly insulated shed walls, Michael felt goosebumps break out along his shoulders and chest at the feeling of Alex’s breath against his ear. Opening his eyes, he pulled back to look at Alex’s face and immediately stepped wrong and made them stumble.

“Damnit!” Michael yelled, dropping his arms.

“No, Michael. It’s fine. It just takes practice,” Alex consoled.

“I’m just not made for dancing,” Michael grouched, turning away and taking a few steps to put space between them. The song changed to some other top 100 pop slow jam, and after a minute he felt Alex hook his chin over one of his shoulders and press his chest to Michael’s back. His arms wrapped around Michael’s crossed ones and he immediately started swaying them again.

“You are. Dancing isn’t so different from fucking. It’s about tempo and rhythm and matching or counterpointing movements. You’re great at fucking, you could be good at dancing,” Alex said quietly. He started kissing Michael’s neck and shoulder intently and heat started to pool in Michael’s gut at the feeling of Alex pressing against him and moving slowly. “Maybe you can dance with me at prom and I’ll make sure you don’t make a fool of yourself?”

“You want to dance with me at prom? Isn’t that a bit… public?” Michael asked. He didn’t really mind it being public, but he didn’t want Alex to say something and not realize the consequences.

“We’ll be out of here in a couple months anyway. Fuck ‘em if they can’t hang, right?” Alex said, voice tight behind his teasing tone.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll dance with you at prom then,” Michael replied easily. He turned his head and Alex kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a good friend. I wouldn’t have anyone to dance with either without you,” Alex said. Michael’s heart ached against his ribs, but he nodded anyway.

“We didn’t get to dance at prom,” Alex said simply when the silence stretched.

“No, you had to go get into a fight with Valenti before I could get in from pictures with Iz and Max,” Michael agreed.

“Wish we had,” Alex replied, sounding wistful.

“Yeah, me too,” Michael agreed. The silence was sad now and he hated it. Michael tried to think of something to say. Clearing his throat, he went with the first thing that came to his mind. “So you adding rice to that stirfry or something?”

“Uh, I was going to just get some like minute rice and dump it on top when I reheated this,” Alex explained. Michael grimaced and Alex laughed.

“Jerk,” Alex said, but a smile was back on his face.

“Just let me know if you end up in the hospital with food poisoning. I’ll send you flowers,” Michael replied with a grin.

“Ugh, shut UP! It’s fine!” Alex exclaimed, grabbing a fork from a drawer and scooping up some onto it. “See?!”

He put it in his mouth and Michael waited. He saw him grimace and chew slowly.

“So good, right?” Michael teased.

“It’s fine,” Alex said after swallowing. Michael waited, Alex and he looked at each other through the screen, before Alex grimaced and then stood up abruptly. “UGH, FINE! It’s gross!”

Michael chuckled.

“Poor baby,” Michael cooed. Alex flipped him off but laughed along with him.

“Yeah, poor me. Well, shit. Now I have to clean all this up and I have nothing to show for it,” Alex groused. Michael watched him rub his hands over his face in frustration and stare at the pan of ruined food.

“Going to try again?” Michael asked. Alex looked over at him and shook his head.

“No. I gotta get to bed. It’s already late. This was just kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision anyway,” Alex replied morosely.

“Hey, you’ll get it next time. Just call me and I’ll walk you through it on video,” Michael offered. Alex sighed and nodded.

“Probably for the best,” he agreed. “Well, I better get to bed. It was nice seeing your face.”

“It was good seeing yours. Miss you,” Michael said before he could chicken out.

“Miss you too. Night,” Alex said with a smile.

“Night,” Michael replied before the call ended. He took a deep sigh and set his phone down on his chest before taking a sip of his lukewarm beer.

Damn, he missed that fucker.

#coming up easy #CUE update #wip wednesday #malex wip #malex

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postapocalyptic-cryptic-hold · 3 years

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Writing Tips: Armor Edition

Good lord, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. Regardless, what follows is a non-comprehensive, entirely subjective list of advice on how to write characters with armor. This is based on my own experience with hockey equipment and is largely geared towards Star Wars Mandalorian-style armor (including clones and storm troopers), but could hypothetically be helpful to anyone.

If it's your armor, it's going to be so comfortable you won't even know it's there.

Actually, on that note, you'd notice right away if something was different. You'd also be thrown off by the absence of the armor, either in part or in its entirety.

When you wear armor a lot, you don't need to think about putting it on. It's instinctual.

It takes five minutes to put a set of armor on and fifteen minutes to bitch about it, catch up on locker room gossip, and realize that the insides of your boots aren't as dry as you thought they were.

Again with the putting on armor being instinctual thing... If you're distracted, worried, etc., it's not at all uncommon to forget a piece of your armor. You put it on in the same way every time, so sometimes your brain just... skips, and you end up with shinguards and no skates.

There are several ways to put on any given set of armor. It's a pretty flexible process, but there are some things that have to be done in a certain order.

That being said, everyone has their own "right" way of putting on armor. It usually doesn't vary much within a team or squad, but get a bunch of strangers together and you can bet your ass someone will start a fistfight over the order you put your tops on in.

Armor usually has some sort of padding system inside, especially if it's stiff. This is the part that gets sweaty and gross. It does not dry quickly, but it does get cold and slimy quickly.

With the sweat thing, weearing armor for an extended amount of time gets gross. If you're working out, you're going to get hot really easily (example: 20F ice rink + 2 hour practice = 20 people complaining about how hot it is). There are always parts of your kit that get really itchy and sometimes, the best way to scratch is actually to hit. If your character is wearing a helmet, have them punch themselves in the head repeatedly to scratch an itch.

Even grosser, the sweat that accumulates has nowhere to go. Under a helmet, this means that it occassionally escapes captivity and runs down your face in CLEARLY VISIBLE streams that sting your eyes and taste gross. Under parts of the kit like shin gaurds, you will often find an accumulation of white slime on the skin, clothes, and armor. This is salt from your sweat. It's gross. It looks like ectoplasm.

If you've been working out and you take your armor off, you'll be visibly steaming.

Hair under helmets. GOD, this is always how you can pick out a writer who's never worn a helmet. Lots of people who wear helmets often will cut their hair short, but there's a set of rules to it. If your hair is long enough to tie up, it stays up. All the time. Best styles are low ponytails or braids, as anything too high will probably be uncomfortable under a helmet. The real thing to pay attention to, though, is short hair. If you've got a character with short hair, make sure it's short enough to stay FAR away from their face. Hair in your face is the #1 cause of insanity in helmet-wearers. Shit that's hanging around your ears or, God for-fucking-bid, your chin, is a major no-go.

Thick hair is also a fun thing with helmets. If you've got thick and/or curly hair, you'll need more helmet space for it. If you've got hair that's notoriously a problem, the helmet is going to turn it into snarls. When I had long hair, I would put it in two braids every time I put my helmet on. Every time I took it off, I had to cut the hair ties out.

Hair will also make you hot and itchy under your helmet. Some people will wear skull caps or some other form of tight hat under their helmets to prevent this. Then again, I had a teammate who regularly wore waist-length, THICK box braids under her helmet and never had a complaint. Some people are just built different.

Helmet hair is not cute and fluffy. It's a flat, greasy mess. That being said, the concept of helmet hair is hot, so please continue writing this as you wish.

Armor can be a pain in the ass, but ultimately, when you wear it all the time, you form a deep emotional connection to your kit. Obviously, this varies from person to person, but it almost always plays a key role in your identity and often revolves around themes such as safety, body image, pride, privacy, protection, or sense of unity/team/family. (Side note: depending on the character, armor can also be an expression on individuality, rank, affilitation, or superiority)

Armor smells really bad. That's all I'll say on that topic.

Actually, no it's not. Some people's armor smells REALLY bad. Like, extremely bad. It's a problem. Other people take really good care of their armor or magically don't sweat, so theirs smells better.

If your character is on the move a lot, they probably have some sort of bag for their kit. This bag will be full of the most random shit you can possibly imagine. Socks enter and never return. Some people carry around extra shirts. Isn't that my water bottle? Is that an orange or a rock?

Upgrading armor is a big deal. People agonize over what to get, where to get it, whether or not they can make it, how much it's going to cost, and whether or not to spend three months of pay on it for MONTHS.

Really old, ill-fitting, broken, or otherwise subpar pieces probably have a story to them. They might be good-luck pieces or a long-running joke. Sometimes, you just forget to buy a new jockstrap for four years (not that I would know from personal experience).

If your characters wear helmets a lot, they probably head-butt each other a lot. It's the easiest way to show affection through gear. Other ways include fist bumps, picking each other up by the back of the chest plate, and grabbing the front of someone's helmet (if there's a way to do that, of course). Fist bumps are less personal and helmet-grabs usually denote a superior-inferior relationship [think of it like "I could beat your ass" (affectionate)].

Some people like to keep their kit flawless. They don't like marks or dents. Other people (most people, actually) prefer the look of "broken in" gear. It's a mark of experience and also, it's actually kind of nervewracking to work with a new kit. No one wants to be the first one to scratch the $400 skates.

There will always be a piece of armor that pinches you. It's probably on your elbow.

There will always be a piece of your armor that comes unfastened. It's probably on your elbow.

Loose armor is much harder to move in and much less protective than tight armor. It might seem counterintuitive at first, but you want the most form-fitting kit possible.

That's pretty much all I've got to say about armor. As always, if you've got something to add, don't be afraid to leave it in a reblog or comment. I hope you all enjoyed me once again turning my skating into writing advice!

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