#THE CURTAIN RISES / HEADCANON

[xkuja]

|| || "There is so much that cannot be properly understood just by studying texts," Kuja muses, his voice carrying a trace of longing, gaze distant, yet sharply focused on his guardian. "The surface world seems so promising, and yet I have only ever seen it between the lines. What a wealth of sights and experiences must await... Once you grant me the freedom to explore..."

His implication is thinly veiled.

Kuja is almost a year old, and the Angel of Death is eager to unfurl his wings. He prattles on and on of Gaia's civilizations, their marvels, the coastal breezes, the mountain winds' mournful cries. Of the Mist. Garland, for his part, listens-- not out of interest, but because Kuja's voice is the sole break in the monotony of his silent domain.

Kuja is almost a year old and already he has learned how to wear down his keeper with naught but persistence.

[tendebill]

[oc]

UKEF royal family as babies >:3

maffi is done and dealing with the pressures of being the heir to the throne, bernard is smol and so so silly and so so so unbothered by life

and david is the middle child.

they love playing pirates :)

[innerfare]

Smutty Mihawk Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Mihawk headcanons

Genre: pure smut (afab!reader)

CW: a little bit of knife play (cutting clothes not skin), dirty talk, low-key masochist Mihawk, exhibitionism on the down low

———

Bisexual icon.

King of sexual tension.

Marine hunter? More like marine fucker. 

Is eternally bored, but has a keen interest in lingerie, and he rather likes cutting it off you. He never thought he would enjoy drawing a knife or sword during sex, but he finds the trust you put in him invigorating. 

A very passionate lover. His insistence on being the best carries over into the bedroom. As such, he’s no fan of quickies. He wants you tied up in his four poster bed, the curtains pulled back to allow moonlight to filter in from the balcony, your naked body sprawled across his silk sheets until the sun rises. 

Talks dirty but getting a moan out of this man is like pulling teeth. Also won’t tell you if you’ve pleased him. Your only indication is that he comes back for more. 

Of course, if you do want to get a moan out of him, the best way is to hurt him. Likes if you rake your nails up and down his back, yank his hair, bite him (especially the spot between his thumb and index finger after sucking his fingers), squeeze his face in your hands, maybe even slap him.

And then there's his bondage kink. If you tie him up, it better be to whip him. He'll start out goading you in that bored tone of his, accusing you of half-assing it, telling you to hit him harder. You know you've gotten to him when the comments cease and he bites his lip, his brow furrowing.

Doesn’t just fuck. He spars. 

Saying it again, cannot emphasize this enough, he loves a biter.  

Wants a partner who wants to be chased, as most people either throw themselves at his feet or run away with no hope of being caught. Will chase you down the halls of his castle and ravage you wherever he catches you. Poor Perona has a list of sofas she no longer sits on, counters she refuses to put food on, and entire staircases she avoids. There are even certain mirrors she doesn’t want to look in, even if the marks have been wiped away. Zoro doesn’t fully believe her when she gives him the rundown, thinking nobody can be that feral, particularly not his stoic teacher, who in his mind is the picture of restraint and civility, until he’s training by himself one day in the courtyard and happens to see you appear in one of the towers, only for Mihawk to appear after you and rather lewd sounds to follow. Also sees Mihawk fucking you hard in a window one time, and over a balcony another time. Zoro quickly learns not to enter the wine cellar between the hours of six and ten PM. 

Lives for dangerous sexual situations. Has fucked you in the woods at night despite the menagerie of dangerous beasts running around, has fucked you from behind in an open window several stories high, your front half hanging out, has even fucked you in his small boat on stormy, raging seas. Every duel he has ever enjoyed has been charged with sexual tension.

In addition to these trysts, he wants you in his bed every night after dinner. You either shower or bathe together, and then he works you into a sweat so you need another one.  

Worries deeply if you ever reject his advances, thinks it must be his fault. “Have I displeased you in some way? Tell me, my love, and I will make it right.” It’s times like this that any veneer of disinterest falls away and you see just how much he cares for you. 

Has certain pet names reserved for the bedroom. “My mewling kitten,” is his current favorite. 

Always does that thing where he strokes your temple with his thumb when he fucks you in missionary. It’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture when you’re struggling to take all of him, but it riles you up more than it calms you down. Uses his other hand to pull one of your legs up as far as it will go, so he’s pinning you down but comforting you about it. 

Loves to feel you up in the bath.

If he has more than one glass of wine, he will be going down on you. The more wine he has, the bigger his appetite for you. It gets worse with stronger liquor. When the Red Hair pirates come to stay and Shanks insists on breaking into the whiskey Mihawk keeps for that very occasion, you know you won’t be sleeping until they leave (and that Shanks will be going down on you, too). 

His favorite is to go down on you on his dining table. It makes you feel very exposed considering he strips you down but remains clothed (as is common with Mihawk when he's domming) and the dining room is very large with many doors that anyone could walk through. But that's what Mihawk enjoys about it.

If you go down on him, his hands will most certainly be in your hair. He loves smoothing your hair, and if it’s long, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail to get the best possible view of your pretty face. 

Once moaned Shanks’ name in bed. Neither of you ever addressed it, but you do always flirt with Shanks when he and his crew come around because it seems to peak your lover’s interest. You haven’t proposed a threesome because you don’t want to share him with the Red-Haired drunk. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[allur1ngs]

✮ enflame ✮

TW: bada being too fine for her own good, a little bit of possessive!bada, lots of protective!bada, cold!bada (to anyone who isn't you), super brief mentions of violence, bada having beef w your bodyguard, pushy men, btw the picture to the farthest right is purely for aesthetics and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!!

SUMMARY: you manage to tear bada away from her work for an evening of shopping, where the soft spot she has for you is unveiled.

part iii. bloody knuckles

WC: 2.9k

A/N: read this for more background on this au. this is not exactly a part two to the headcanons but i got this idea out of nowhere so yeahhh

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada's actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

From the moment Bada arose from her slumber, she sensed that her day would be draining. Usually, waking up before the sun had the chance to peak above the horizon wasn't difficult for her—so many years of doing so had made sleep fatigue all too familiar. However, last night, she stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning, something she typically tried to avoid.

So when her body starts to naturally wake up only a few hours later, she groans loudly into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and mentally cursing her past self for staying up so late.

Although all she wants is to stay in bed more than anything, she forces herself to rise from her plush king-sized bed and tosses the warm sheets aside.

Briefly, she turns around to gaze at the spot where she had just been lying when a thought strikes her. You must be asleep in your own bedroom. Curled up in a similar, large bed, a pocket of heat cradling your figure while your chest slowly rises and falls. Your eyes must be tightly shut, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to remain asleep despite the rays of sunlight that will soon begin to peek through your curtains. Your soft lips must be pursed together. Your lips...

Bada wishes you both shared the same bed. She wishes she hadn't been so courteous to buy you a new bed, comfortable sheets, and all the amenities you needed when you first arrived. She wishes instead that you were lying in her bed. She wishes she could wrap her arms around you, and pull you close whilst you slept. She wishes she could foster a beautiful heat between your two bodies. She wishes she could run her fingers across your skin--

Bada shakes her head, sighs loudly, and turns away sharply from her bed. She rubs her eyes as she makes her way over to her dresser, mumbling berating words under her breath for thinking of you in such a way. It's not appropriate and beyond that, those types of thoughts lead to feelings, which she does not--cannot have for you.

Bada's day seems to worsen after dressing herself in her usual attire, a freshly ironed black suit and slacks. The fabric touches her uncomfortably, and still feeling the edges of sleep mar her vision, everything is suddenly bothering her.

But the final nail in the coffin is when Lusher, one of Bebe's most trusted mafia members, walks into her office hours later, carrying a tray of breakfast.

Immediately looking up from the papers in front of her, Bada expects to see your lovely face greet her, but is met with Lusher's cheeky expression instead. She tries not to display her palpable disappointment, but concealing her feelings has never quite been her strong suit. Her mother had told her this many times when she was younger.

"Don't jump out of your seat in excitement, now." Lusher jokes, placing the breakfast tray on the desk.

Bada's lips tighten into a firm, thin line as she stares down at the food, feeling her hunger quickly escape her. "Thanks."

"I know I'm not who you wanted to see, but I can't lie, your disappointment hurts me." Lusher moves a hand to her chest, acting like she'd been wounded.

Bada sighs, shaking her head. "Why isn't she here this morning?"

"Still in bed, apparently." Lusher clasps her hands behind her back. "We found her asleep on the couches late last night. She must have been waiting for you to leave your office so she could wish you a good night, but ended up falling asleep out of exhaustion."

The butterflies that dance in Bada's stomach internally, are a stark contrast to the disapproving expression she wears externally. "I've told her many times not to wait up for me. It's not healthy to be staying up so late."

Lusher sighs dramatically. "You're telling me. How many times have I asked you to head to bed earlier?"

"That's different." Bada denies while picking up her golden ink pen and continuing to write. "I have work to do. Waiting so late into the morning just to wish me a good night is..."

"Sweet? Incredibly kind, and definitely a testament to how endearing your fiancée is?"

Bada clicks her tongue in annoyance. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have something better to do than bothering me?"

"You know there's nothing I like more than bothering you." Lusher shoots back with a sly smile.

Bada tried to continue working, she really did. She attempted to push through filling out papers, even though her wrist was screaming at her to take a break. However, come midday, she was already fed up.

Ruffling her hair and groaning loudly, Bada stands up from her table, the chair she'd been sitting out whining loudly against the floor. She wastes no time in shuffling to the door, grabbing the handle, and pulling it open.

Right when she does, she catches a flash of your figure walking down the hall toward her, your bodyguard only a few paces behind you. As her gaze connected with yours, she felt as if the world transformed, shifting from monochrome sketches to vibrant watercolor paintings

"Oh." You speak first, an easy smile finding your lips. "Good afternoon, Bada."

"Good afternoon." She greets back, trying her damnedest not to sound overjoyed at your presence. "Were you coming to see me?"

"I was." You nod. "I just wanted to let you know I'm planning on going to the mall."

"Are you now?" Bada says absentmindedly, her hand coming up to clutch at her tie and loosen it. The fabric suddenly feels much too tight around her neck.

"Yes..." You trail off, your eyes taking in how Bada's pale and lithe fingers grab at her tie and jostle it around, making it dangle a bit messily across her collarbones. Such a simple action should not be so attractive, no--it shouldn't. It's really ridiculous how easy it is for your fiancée to be so naturally alluring.

"That sounds nice." She hums. "Are you looking to buy something in particular?"

"No, not really." You shake your head. "I'm really just going to look around, and not stay at home all day."

Home. Bada's heart warms at you calling the mansion you both reside in your home. Although it technically is, it's different for you to perceive it as such. It means you feel comfortable here, with her--living with her--

"You should come with me." Your voice brings Bada out of her stupor, her eyes immediately finding yours.

Her mouth opens and closes dumbly, a clear look of shock painted across her face. She tries to quickly gather her bearings, half-heartedly muttering out, "I--I wish I could, but I have a lot of work to do--"

"Bada, all you do is work," you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. She has to force herself not to think about how cute you look doing so. "You deserve to have some downtime. Even if it is only for a few hours."

She stands there, still a bit shell-shocked, staring at you before her eyes shift to the figure behind you, finding your bodyguard, who is trying very hard to conceal her amused smile behind a shaky hand.

Bada's gaze turns icy as she eyes down your bodyguard, prompting the subordinate to immediately turn away and dispel her smile. "All right. I'll come with you."

"Wait, really?" You awe, your eyes going wide and your smile growing. "I didn't think you'd actually say yes."

"Well, you're right. I do need a break. At the rate I'm working at now, I'll never do anything productive by the end of the day." Bada admits with a tired smile. "Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yes." You begin to nod, but your smile slowly turns into a frown. "But you should change into different clothing."

For the second time that day, Bada is left surprised by your boldness. "Change? Why?"

"Don't you want to wear something other than a suit for once?" You ask innocently. "It seems... stuffy to be in it all day."

"Stuffy." She laughs breathily. "I guess you're right." Bada looks between you and your bodyguard. "Will you be all right to wait for me?"

"Of course." You smile.

"Great." She smiles back.

When Bada comes back, she isn't wearing her usual black suit. And although you'd been the one to suggest it, you're not quite ready for how amazing she looks in casual clothing.

A black leather jacket is draped over her shoulders, with slick white lines running down the sleeves and across the chest. She has paired the jacket with matching black leather pants and a black shirt.

In that moment, you want to scream at whatever higher power exists for making your fiancée so unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to act normal around her when her mere presence makes you hot below the collar?

Well, despite your internal struggles you give her a compliment before you're off to the mall, hopping into a sleek black sports car and speed away.

Your first destination in the large mall is a relatively luxurious clothing store. You can't lie; you had wanted to go into the store since you passed it on one of your trips to the mall without Bada, but you were too intimidated to enter. However, now, with her by your side, you feel much more comfortable stepping into the expensive store.

Approaching the door, your bodyguard begins to step forward, about to open the door for you like she always does, but Bada is quicker. She grabs onto the handle and opens the door, stepping aside to make room for you to walk in.

You look at her and smile while mumbling a soft thank you, to which she gives you a small smile back and nods. Your bodyguard begins to walk in after you, but again Bada is faster and enters the store, letting the door swing closed behind her. It almost hits your bodyguard in the face, making her flinch back and sigh.

"Keep a look out from there," Bada tells her sternly through the glass doors.

"Yes, Boss," your bodyguard begrudgingly mumbles back, understanding that this is payback for teasing your fiancée earlier.

Bada turns back around, her eyes easily finding you in the small crowd of people. You're looking around the store with wide eyes, a smile gracing your lips as you observe the embellished clothing around you. She smiles fondly to herself, finding every expression of yours much too cute for your own good.

However, before she can make her way to you, the familiar sound of a voice greets her from behind. Turning around, she finds In-Su, one of her business partners and the owner of the clothing store. Greeting him back, an air of professionalism immediately envelops her as she begins to engage in conversation with him

Meanwhile, you're in your own personal heaven. The clothing you've been browsing is exactly your style, and despite the high prices, you know you can afford it all, thanks to the black credit card Bada had gifted you.

A few minutes later, your hands are already starting to get full as you reach to pull another article of clothing from the rack when you suddenly feel a firm force push into your side, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. making you lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. Thankfully, you manage to steady yourself before you do, huffing while turning to your right to see what--or more accurately who--had bumped into you.

"Excuse me." A well-dressed man stands a few feet away from you, his lips forming a snobbish frown.

Despite your irritation, you instinctively apologize. "Oh, sorry--"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. "You should be careful where you stand."

Internally, you scoff at the man, but externally, you only mumble another half-hearted apology before turning away and walking down another aisle.

"Have I seen you before?" The man follows after you.

"I don't think so." You answer back flatly, trying to ignore him and busy yourself by flipping through pairs of jackets.

"I swear I've seen you before. I never forget the face of a beautiful woman."

This time, you're unable to control your expression and outwardly cringe. Is this random man who bumped into you flirting with you right now? After acting so rude?

You say nothing to him in response, choosing to completely ignore him instead.

"You know, when someone compliments you, it's common courtesy to say thank you."

Now you're starting to get increasingly anxious. You don't feel brave enough to confront the man, but he doesn't seem to understand that you're not interested and clearly uncomfortable with his advances.

Taking your silence in offense, the man scowls before grabbing your wrist rather roughly, making you drop all the clothing you'd been holding, and twists you around to face him.

You gasp at his painful hold, attempting to break away from him but unable to due to the sheer strength of his grip. "Let me--" you begin, but the words die in your mouth upon seeing someone standing behind him.

The man, who had been staring you down, notices the shift in your expression and suddenly becomes aware of a very strong presence behind him. He turns around, still gripping your wrist, and comes face to face with a scarily calm Bada Lee.

"Do you need something?" He snaps at her dumbly.

Bada stares down at him with steely eyes, her expression so devoid of emotion you're almost terrified for him. "I believe I should be asking you that question. Is there a reason why you're touching my fiancée?"

The man looks between you and Bada, scoffing disapprovingly. "Tch, she didn't tell me she was engaged."

"Even if she wasn't, in what world would it be appropriate to touch a woman who clearly isn't interested in your pathetic advances like that?" She asks rhetorically, her voice rising with every syllable. Clearly, her anger was getting to her.

The man grits his teeth, feeling his ego bruise because not only is Bada embarrassing him, but she's also easily intimidating him with her presence. "Hey, just who do you think you are?" He raises his voice to match hers.

"I think the real question is," Bada takes a step closer, leaving hardly any space between her and him, "who the fuck do you think you are?"

In that moment, the man's entire demeanor shifts. He turns to look around the store, finding every shopper, worker, and even the store owner staring back at him, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes set into firm glares. Some of them have their hands in their pockets or are grabbing something hidden next to them. His face pales, and looking back at Bada, her face starts to become familiar. He hadn't recognized her out of her normal formal attire, but now--

He gulps, quickly letting go of your wrist like your skin burned him and steps away from you both, his posture shrinking. He starts to make his way toward the exit, attempting to ignore the stares of everyone in the store but is stopped before he can make it out.

"And where do you think you're going?" Bada's hardened voice echoes through the store, making the man freeze in his spot, his entire body going rigid.

Bada's footsteps slowly approach him from behind again and stop just shy of him.

"You made her drop her clothing."

The man turns around, avoiding eye contact with Bada and finding your eyes instead. He's about to mumble an apology when she speaks up again.

"Pick it up." She demands flatly.

The man stays still in his spot, shocked and embarrassed. But clearly, he didn't move fast enough for Bada's liking, because he feels himself get shoved in your direction, almost falling onto his face.

"Do it. Now." She says, her voice bordering on yelling.

Immediately, the man throws himself onto the floor, scrambling to pick up every article of clothing he made you drop. He does so as quickly as possible, then stands up, about to pass you the clothing, when he feels Bada's unwavering gaze bore into him and decides it's in his best interest not to touch you anymore, so he carefully drapes the clothes across your arms.

He turns back to face Bada, approaching her with a cold sweat.

"Hold on." She stops him yet again. "You bumped into her, didn't you?"

"I--" He tries to explain himself but is cut off.

"Apologize."

This time, the man wastes no time in fulfilling her demands. He turns to you, apologizing profusely while shaking like a leaf. You're unable to even think about accepting his apologies before he practically runs to the store doors, throws them open, trying to leave the mall. But as always, Bada is ten steps ahead.

She nods at your bodyguard, who grabs onto the man's suit with little effort, turns him around, and punches him straight in the gut.

Bada then steps in front of you, blocking you from seeing what your bodyguard is doing to the man. Her hands grab the clothing from your arms, relieving you of their weight before slinging them across her right shoulder. She then gently holds your wrist up to her eyes, the ice behind them shifting to a warm and caring glow.

"Does it hurt?" She asks softly.

You feel your body turn to mush at the attention she gives you. "A little."

Bada sighs, leans in, and places her soft lips against your wrist, kissing it with a reverence and sweetness everyone besides you is surprised to see.

It's clear to everyone that the ice around Bada's heart melts only for you.

enflame: to excite to excessive or uncontrollable action or feeling

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon : Beauty Mark

✧˚ Keegan, Phillip Graves, Price, Ghost

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The haze from the golden sun seeped through the window curtains. The particles of dust like gold flakes swirl in the air. Bodies entwined in the bedsheets. Your lips break into a soft smile as his fingers graze your skin, circling moles speckled over your body.

Keegan

Loves to trace the trail of beauty marks on your arms connecting them with his finger

Starts from your shoulders and grazes sensually down to your wrists

Kisses both of your wrists over the dots

His soft breath tickles your skin, causing the hair on the back of your neck to rise when his warm breath feels like a burning fire that turns you on

“It’s like cinnamon was sprinkled over you”

Phillip Graves

His breath caresses the shell of your ear as he touches the mole on your earlobe

Murmurs into your neck as he breaths in your scent

Kisses that start from your jaw, down your neck, to the beauty mark on your breast; over your beating heart

“You’re like my own nebula”

Price

Caresses your face with the rough skin on the back of his hand

Counts out loud how many moles are speckled over your face

He adores the mole in between your eyebrows, on your forehead

Forehead kisses, kissing over your mole

Holds your face in his hands gently as he tenderly kisses slightly above your upper lip to feel the mole there

Calls your beauty marks “angel kisses”

Ghost

He starts kissing the beauty marks on your abdomen and loses himself as he reaches an intimate one on your inner thigh

Runs his hands down your back to map the constellation of speckled moles

He does it every chance he gets

“It’s like stardust luv”

[hikakuriyyu]

early morning moments with Scream men (headcanon)

⁎ warnings: fluff, suggestive content, female!reader. not proof read.

⁎ summary: how mornings with (modern!au) Billy, Stu, Mickey, Charlie and Ethan would be.

⁎ author note: thank you guys so much for so many likes on the last one ! i guess i can keep writing scream fics for the time being lol.

Billy Loomis

As the early morning light shine through the curtains, you stir around, only to feel Billy's arm draped over your waist. His breath is warm against your neck as he moves closer, his soft skin of his shirtless torso brushing against your back.

You try to quietly get up, but you feel him trapping you against his chest, his arm tightening around your waist. ''You're not going anywhere.'' he murmured in a raspy low voice that sends a shiver down your spine everytime.

''Billy...'' you whisper, trying to get up again, but he pulls you back, his lips brushing against your neck.

''Shh...'' he hums, his voice smooth and playful. ''You promised me lazy mornings. Don't break my heart now.'' His grip on you is firm but gentle, his touch soft as he savors this domestic moment with you.

You can feel his palm against your hip, his tone becomes deeper. ''Unless, of course, you've got a better idea...'' The tease in his voice is evident, making you blush as he holds you closer.

Stu Macher

The sun is barely up, but Stu is already awake, his energy unmatched even in the early hours. You wake to the sound of shuffling and a gentle hum. Opening your eyes, you saw that he was on the edge of the bed, struggling to balance a tray of breakfast. toast, a cup of coffee, and a poorly-cut pile of fruit.

''Rise and shine sleepyhead !'' he grinned, his smile contagious as he sets the tray on the bedside table. Before you can even thank him, he flops back onto the bed beside you, wrapping his long arms around you like a human blanket.

''Stu, you're squishing me.'' you chuckle, trying to wiggle free, but he just nuzzles into your hair.

''You love it.'' he teased, his voice muffled. His hands sneak up to tickle you, making you squirm and giggle until he finally stops, both of you out of breath.

''Fine, fine.'' he retreats, placing a kiss to your forehead. ''But only because I'm the best boyfriend ever and made you breakfast.'' he says with a proud smile, his blue eyes glimmering as he watches you, completely smitten with your messy, half-asleep state.

Mickey Altieri

The morning light peeks through the blinds, landing on the pile of discarded books and notes on the nightstand. You stir awake, turning to see Mickey already awake, propped on one elbow, watching you with a lazy smirk.

''Morning beautiful.'' he says, his voice still thick with sleep. His hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch lingering a moment longer than necessary.

You smile under his gaze, playfully narrowing your eyes. ''Were you just staring at me while I slept ?''

''Guilty as charged.'' he admitted with a soft laugh, leaning in slightly. ''Can you blame me ? You look way too good in the morning.'' he said as his hand slides down to playfully rest on your ass.

Before you could reply, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice dipping lower. ''But now that you're awake, we could stay here a little longer, hm ?'' his grin is teasing, his eyes glinting with just enough mischief to make your heart skip.

Charlie Walker

The soft light of morning filters through the curtains as you slowly wake up, but you don't need to open your eyes to know Charlie is already up. You can feel him next to you, shifting slightly, but making no move to get out of bed. He's quiet, almost hesitant, like he doesn't want to disturb the peace.

When you finally blink your eyes open, he's looking at you, his cheeks flushed a little. ''Hey...'' he says softly, his voice almost shy, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

''Hey...'' you mumble back, still groggy. You feel his hand lightly brush against your arm, his touch gentle but deliberate.

''You know... you're cute when you sleep.'' he mutters, almost like he's embarrassed to admit it. His fingers toy with the edge of your shirt, barely grazing your skin.

You raise an eyebrow, smirking a little. ''Do you really mean that ?''

He laughs, leaning closer until his body is flush against yours. ''Maybe... It's not like I get to see you like this every day.” his voice is soft, but there's a hint of something... deeper in his words. He pauses for a second, biting his lip nervously before giving you a quick kiss, as if he couldn't resist anymore.

Ethan Landry

The morning is quiet, except for the faint hum of the coffee maker and the soft clatter of dishes. You shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find Ethan already there. He's standing at the counter, awkwardly trying to flip pancakes, his hair messy and shirtless.

''Morning.'' he says, turning when he hears you. His face lights up, a shy smile spreading as he sets the spatula down. ''I, uh… thought I'd make you breakfast.''

You laugh softly, walking towards him. ''Pancakes, huh ? Aren't you a cutie ?''

He rubs the back of his neck, his ears turning red. ''They're a little... uneven,'' he admits, motioning to the pancakes on the plate. ''But they taste good, I promise.''

Before you can tease him, he steps closer, his hands gently resting on your waist. ''I was gonna bring it to you, but…'' he shrugs, a nervous chuckle escaping as he brings his face closer to yours, lips inches apart.

''Guess I want you to come to me.'' he murmurs, his voice soft. You lock eyes for a moment before Ethan presses a soft kiss on your lips, living in the sweet moment.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: What it's like to hold the M6

~ my submission for this week's prompt - have some sappy headcanon drabble ^.^ ~

Julian

The sounds of leather folding and bending and creaking, of a pent up sigh, of a noble, anxious, too-big-for-its-own-good heartbeat fluttering against those thin, bird-like ribs

The smell of - yes, more leather - with a slight hint of sweat and the faded scent of the crushed herbs used to stuff doctor's masks

The feel of a well-worn, weather tested, oversized coat falling around both your frames, a cold set of bony fingers tangling into your hair through protective gloves

The sight of folded black cloth and slightly dulled metal buttons, a pale neck cradling your forehead, auburn stubble shivering over a bobbing adam's apple

The bitter taste of sea-salty lips, self-sacrifice, and coffee

Asra

The sound of an airy chuckle, a curious whisper, a deep, relaxed sigh, a heartbeat that touches your own with every gentle thump

The smell of smoking incense, sparkling spices, and syrupy vanilla, lurking beneath the petrichor of sunny spring rains on the dust of a far-off highway

The feel of a soft shawl on your cheek, sturdy linen body-warmed and slightly rough under your arms, heavy, heated hands running soothing pathways along your spine, cloud soft curls on your ears, a deceptively slight frame

The sight of golden metal and silvery blue stone on smooth skin, the barely-there rise and fall of a body slowly relaxing into yours

The taste of smoky tea, home, and desperate dedication

Nadia

The sound of rustling silks, the quiet clink of bracelets and rings, the hush of long, thick hair falling over chiffon-clad shoulders, a contented, throaty hum, a lofty heartbeat

The smell of jasmine, rose, pepper, and amber, of warm silk and chilled white wine, of flower gardens and powdery cosmetics

The feel of a heavy curtain of hair against your face, body warmth passing quickly through thin, gauzy sleeves wrinkling under your movements, of strong fingers tilting your chin into her collarbone

The sight of glinting gemstones and finely crafted metal, intricate embroidery stitches swirling across lustrous fabric, scalloped hemlines along sculpted shoulders

The taste of spiced fish, wine, and plush, commanding adoration

Muriel

The sound of heavy, rough cloth slowly dragging across itself, breaths hitching deep and slow, a grumble quiet and low enough to shake the earth, a nervous, powerful heartbeat

The smell of myrrh hanging around you like a cloud, of warm fur and chilly forest air, of falling leaves and running water and smoke

The feel of muscle and scruff, of radiating body heat, of massive, calloused palms alternating between gently splaying over your shoulders like blanketing weights and hovering cautiously around your waist in fluttering, feather like touches

The sight of thick, dark hair falling in choppy lengths over stubble and scar tissue, of thick green cloth over sinew

The taste of grilled forage and mead, of healing and steadfastness

Portia

The sound of an excited giggle, springing footsteps and jingling keys, a happy gasp and unstoppable heartbeat, a mischievous secret getting laughed into your ear

The smell of air-drying laundry and soap, hair oil and cocoa butter, fresh bread and sizzling butter and caramelizing berries

The feel of strong forearms, small, calloused hands, the push of energetic bouncing against your shoulder, of hair flying around your face, the plush squish of a no-holds-barred bear hug

The sight of fiery curls spilling over clean, pressed cotton, freckles speckling creamy skin, the occasional grey and white cat hair clinging to black ribbon, the dusk of a happy blush

The taste of yeasty bread, and the comforts of adventure

Lucio

The sounds of nearby dogs panting, a cutlass clanking in its sheath, the mechanical whir and musical hum of an alchemical arm, a confident, snorting chuckle and a devoted heartbeat

The smell of fresh sweat, warm metal, cinnamon alcohol in a journeyman's flask, hair gel and worn cologne

The feel of a padded, quilted vest, the quick rise and fall of an active chest, the slight tilt of a shoulder forever sloped in favor of a heavy arm, the sinewed grip of a warrior's touchstarved fingers and the cool, metallic touch of a careful clawed hand

The sight of sharp collarbones and glinting curved gold, fine flaxen hair at the nape of a snowy neck, crimson cloth and leather straps

The taste of grilled meat, traveler's wine, and new beginnings

[glowinggator]

Hello :3 Could you do either headcannons or oneshot for sleeping with Mordecai Heller?? No smut, just like literally sharing a bed lol. Love your writing!!

Thank you so much!! I ended up combining this with a few other requests on some cuddling headcanons, so do let me know if you'd like any follow-ups to this! I like to imagine he's got a whole unbreakable routine.

Pairing: Mordecai Heller/Reader

How do you cuddle with Mordecai Heller? Simple. You don’t.

Well, that isn’t entirely true. But it’s what you tell everyone — he has a reputation to uphold, after all. And it’s much easier than defining what “cuddling” means for the two of you.

Like with many aspects of your relationship with Mordecai, cuddling came little by little. He’s not keen on touch, even in the best of scenarios. Most days, being touched just feels like a million concentrated pinpricks. It’s almost painful sometimes, the way unwanted hands sear into his skin and imprint themselves on his nerves. Not to mention all the germs people have. Eugh.

You knew he was touch averse long before you ever started dating — you’ve seen the way he leans away from others when they go in for hugs, or the way he grimaces during pat-downs on jobs. It’s such an intrinsic part of him that you never expected it to change, and you’re okay with that.

But sometimes, he surprises you.

There’s little gestures that he does (after a considerable amount of self-talk, not that he’d ever tell you that) that truly make your heart melt.

Working up to sleeping in the same bed was an adventure all on its own. It’s quite the milestone of trust for him, with a weight that’s just a stone’s throw away from an outright proposal. This man has spent most of his life in the center of danger’s crosshairs, so to trust you enough to let down his walls… well, you get the idea.

He always falls asleep after you do. He sleeps on his side, facing the door, with a foot of space between you — no more, no less. He counts your breaths as you drift into sleep, and memorizes the way your body heat seeps through into his own. He commits your very presence to memory, and it quickly becomes difficult— no, impossible — to sleep when you’re not by his side. He likes to say it’s because his routine is broken, but you both know that’s a lie.

His fur is soft — that’s the first thing you think to yourself when Mordecai brushes his tail against your own one night. You hold your breath, waiting for him to pull back, like it was some sort of mistake… but he doesn’t. There’s no hiss, no flinch or startle… just peace. Calm. Your lips pull back in a soft smile as you bask in the moment, enjoying every second that you’re connected. You dare not say anything, afraid that if you did he’d overthink the moment, or shrink back from the intensity of his emotions. But he never pulls away, not until the sun is shining through your curtains and begging the two of you to rise.

From then on, that too becomes part of your shared routine.

And little by little, it grows.

It starts as a brush… and then intertwining. Then he does it while you read together in bed… and then on the couch.

When it’s you, touch can be… pleasant. It’s an unusual feeling, foreign, but not a bad one.

Little incidences like that slowly become more and more frequent. More openly devout in their meaning, their intensity. He never thought he’d feel this safe with anyone ever again, and it’s almost scary how deep his love runs for you.

Some days are better than others, of course. It’s never your fault, never. Sometimes he truly just cannot handle the sensation of it all. You like to joke with him a little when he puts his hands up as a ward.

Can’t have you getting too soft on me, you jest, I know, I’m addictive.

And of course he sputters, because he is not getting soft (yet another lie) but at the end of the day, he knows you won’t push him. He trusts you.

But you can always count on that last step of your routine. Every night at 10:30pm his tail wraps around yours, like clockwork. Stress melts into weightless peace in an instant, with the world as little more than a memory outside of the walls of your shared apartment. Some lovers parade their joy around in the streets under the light of day, thriving in the attention that their unity provides. But you and Mordecai belong to the night, wrapped up in quiet, intimate eternity. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello I want to request for headcanons or fics whatever you're in the mood for with fue, nozel, nacht and Julius they wake up in the morning and see their s/o whos period spills onto their bed and she wakes up and is super embarrassed about it

If you're uncomfortable with the topic you don't have to write for it tho it's okay

Hello! No worries, I'm not uncomfortable with blood or periods ^^

This turned quite long, but hopefully you don't mind. The guys are worried about reader being alright, but do comfort the reader, all in their own ways. ^^

Pairings: Fuegoleon x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader, Nacht x f!reader, Julius x f!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: general/comforting Total length: ~2.1k Warnings: a lot of mentions and depictions of blood (since periods are a main topic of this), the guys being a little worried since blood spilling in the bed isn't common at all to them, but it's a kind of .. hurt-comfort I suppose

Fuegoleon

He has always been one to rise early. That is not to say that if he can spare the time, he doesn’t mind sleeping in, especially after you came a part of his life. And it was also this morning that he was the first to rise.

For a while he simply lied there, next to you and admired your sleeping form next to you. But he didn’t want to wake you up, so he thought that he might just as well get up and do a little morning exercising.

He pushed aside of the covers and sat up, but as he turned to take one more glance of you, he saw blood, under you, staining the covers.

His immediate thought was about you being alright. But you were breathing, and there weren’t signs of distress, which meant that it must’ve been your periods. And for a while he wondered if he should really wake you up, instead of having you lie on bloody sheets.

But as you begun shifting around, and woke up, little by little, he didn’t need to wonder about it.

He sat onto his side of the bed, and placed his hand onto your side, stroking you. “Good morning,” he wished with gentle syllables. “How are you feeling?”

You stretched and greeted him with a smile, but as your consciousness came through from dream lands, you realized that you were feeling a bit… sticky, and the sheets felt a bit wet. Which could mean a couple of things. That you had been sweating in your sleep, or…

So, you sat up, without a reply, and uncovered yourself, only to see bloody sheets, which is why you hastily pulled the covers back over you while staring down to your hands.

You couldn’t believe that your periods had come in early. Or was it really early? Had you just forgotten about where you were in the cycle? In any case you started doing the math in your head, while not daring to look at him. But still, you managed to mumble out a “I’m sorry…”

He placed his hand onto your shoulder, and, even without looking at him, you heard his tender tone. “It’s alright,” he told you. “Periods are a completely natural thing to have.”

Carefully your eyes started to lift from the sheets to him.

“Are you… in pain?” He inquired, telling you that the sheets were the least of his worries.

“A… little bit,” you admitted because the period pains were also creeping in on you.

He pulled you close, and assured you that it’d be alright. His right hand settled onto your lower stomach, and added a bit of warmth to soothe you. “It’ll be alright,” he repeated, and simply held you close, stroking you and focusing on being there for you.

And you… you did feel loved and cared for. For a moment you even forgot about the sheets, but it felt wonderful to know that there was no shame in showing him that you were on your periods.

Nozel

Light started to filter through the curtains to Nozel’s eyes, waking him up. And he knew that he should get up. Get to work. Complete tasks that were on the list for the day, but… the bed was warm. Soft… and most importantly, you were there.

So, he rolled over, and wrapped his arms around you, as much as he could while lying down, and snuggled close to you. But as he settled there, next to you, his hand brushed something… wet? Sticky? And as he ruffled the sheets, there was a faint scent of iron.

He felt his stomach twist, and his heart begun racing, which made him wide awake. But as soon as he was, awake, eyes open. He tried to reason to himself.

No one could have gotten in. And hurt you. So it must’ve been something else.

Regardless, he sat up, and tried to inspect if anything seemed amiss.  And as he pulled his hand away from under the covers, there were red stains covering his skin, which caused him to promptly pull aside the blanket to see the sheets under you stained with blood.

You awoke to the sudden movement, and looked at him with a frown, as he looked under you.

Your eyes followed his gaze and saw the stains as well, filling your mind with questions about if you were supposed to have your periods already. But the questions only crossed your mind for a fraction of a second, as embarrassment took its place, making your cheeks feel warm.

“I’m-, sorry,” you apologized not daring to meet his gaze, as you were afraid that he’d say something… something less than pleasant about it. Or perhaps would wish to have separate beds from now on, so that he wouldn’t have to worry about waking up in a pool of blood.

But instead, he took your hand and looked at you. His lips were parted, as if he was thinking about what to say. And he continued to think for quite a while, until he frowned at his own ability to say The Right thing, if there was such.

Then he closed his mouth, only to open it up again as his eyes averted. “If you wish, we can… go wash up as the servants change the sheets,” he stated. “And we’ll… find a solution.”

“I’m… sorry,” you apologized again, while looking down again.

“It’s not your fault,” he interjected. “It was unexpected,” he continued while giving your hand a squeeze, which gave you the reassurance you needed to look at him.

His cheeks were tinted with a hint of red, and his eyes were still to the side.

He wasn’t trying to guilt you, but instead he was trying to solve it. Solve the situation where you were still sitting on bloody sheets, while circling around commenting on the state of the linen.

But most importantly, he wasn’t trying to blame you.

“I’m certain it’s unpleasant to wake up in… such a state,” he said. “So, if you wish, we can-, freshen up.” He meant well. And honestly, it wasn’t fun to sit there, feeling the sticky, drying period blood on you, along with the creeping period pain.

“Let’s do that,” you finally admitted with soft syllables, with which he lead you, still holding you by the hand, to the wash room. He made sure you had the softest towels, and that the water was warm enough, before telling the servants to change the sheets.

Nacht

Nacht usually wakes up quite early. That is if he has fallen asleep in the first place, since he is quite a bit of a night owl. Though he might prefer “creature of the night”, if he had to choose, not that he necessarily would take kindly being called either by anyone aside of you, because from you it comes with love.

However, this morning, he was up, walking around with a book in hand instead of sitting down to read it, as he passed by the bed where you were still sleeping.

You rolled over in your sleep, pushing aside a lot of the covers as you did so, which revealed a large crimson stain under you, which made Nacht stop.

There was a passing, split second of pain in him for seeing so much blood under you. But he is able to keep himself calm, and collected, because this must simply be your periods. After all, you were moving around and breathing with no sounds of distress, so it was something natural. And periods were by far the most common explanation.

But there was still something so unsightly in the idea of you having to lay in, essentially, a pool of blood. It must’ve been rather uncomfortable.

So, he sat down to the edge of the bed, and gently shook you awake.

“Good morning,” he wished with a gentle tone of voice, to which you replied with a sleepy tone of your own.

But as you regained your consciousness from the dreamlands where you had ventured in your sleep, you begun to feel… something sticky? Wet and… less than nice?

You tried to prop yourself up and as you did, you looked at your hand which was now covered in a thin layer of blood, which was when it dawned on you: the bed was stained from your periods.

You averted your gaze, still looking down to the sheets and apologized. It’d be a pain to get the stains out of the sheets, not to mention the mattress. And you didn’t want to be a burden on him.

But after the apology had flowed out from you, he asked: “Why are you apologizing?”

You looked at him, and there was that smiling expression, but in his smile, you could see a faint frown. Because he didn’t really understand why you needed to apologize for something that you had no control over.

“Because… I stained the sheets…” you replied.

“It was an accident, of which you have no control over. But we can get around it by tracking your cycle in a calendar and taking precautions,” he stated, trying to find a solution.

You nodded, because it did sound sensible. And he was solution oriented to a lot of things, but that didn’t really help with your emotions right there and then.

“We will manage,” he still continued, and took a hold of your hand, while pulling you close. His left hand settled to your head, and pressed it against his chest, as his right held you from the waist.

He might not have been the best at offering words of comfort, but he wanted you to know that he was there for you when you needed it. And he always would be.

Julius

If he can, he likes to sleep as late as possible. That is if he doesn’t have a plan on going anywhere, aside of work.

And thus, in his sleep, he rolled over and snuggled close to you, smiling widely. Because… why wouldn’t he? He was right there, with the love of his life, in a warm, soft bed without a care in the world. If he didn’t count Marx bugging him about paperwork, which wasn’t really a care in itself either, since there was a point in doing the work. A very valid point at that.

But for now, he simply wished to snuggle next to you for a few more minutes, so he pulled you closer, reached a little further around you and there was… dampness? Stickiness? But it didn’t feel like anything he was necessarily familiar wi-

Then it dawned on him. It felt a lot like blood. But you were sleeping blissfully in his arms. He could feel your chest rising and falling, and there were no signs of uneasiness.

He propped himself up, nudging you unintentionally in the process, which caused your eyes to flicker open.

“Good morning,” you smiled to him as you were coming to from the sleep.

“Good morning,” he wished back. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed for a while, then realizing that there was something… something damp and it… wasn’t quite sweat, because sweat wasn’t this sticky and… You got up, and reached under you, only to pull your bloodied hand back and look at it.

You could have prepared to this, or that was what you thought to yourself. You could have been counting days there was to your periods. Though there was sometimes bound to be some variation, and considering everything that had been going on lately and-

“Are you in pain?” He asked, waking you from the train of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry… for staining the sheets,” you replied, not really answering to his question.

He blinked for a moment, before letting out a laugh. “We can always get more sheets,” he smiled to you while pulling you closer. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he assured you.

You turned to look at him, the best you could, and quite simply looked at him. And he just smiled in return.

He smiled that bright reassuring smile of his that made you think that everything would be alright in the world, no matter what. He wasn’t mad, or upset with you. To him it was simply a part of life.

And you could always get more sheets.

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! I really loved the headcanons about darling who works with Undertaker and has a crush on him while being completely oblivious to him trying to court them.

So I was wondering if it would be possible to request a kind of continuation for them, where darling finally confesses and seeing Undertakers reaction, they kind of go like “Wait- you felt the same all the time?!” and them maybe a small bit how their daily life changes after that :)

Any format will be fine, so you can write it in any way that is comfortable and makes the most sense to you <3

Again, thank you very much for answering my previous request and even if it will take long for this one to be answered, I am willing to patiently wait, because I know the result will be good ❤️🫶

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: awww, thank you (*＾3＾)/～☆. I hope this meets your expectations, I certainly had fun while writing it! Reader is such a mood bcs I too am oblivious to people liking me lmao. I wrote an oneshot and a few headcanons!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @harukishiyo @laythestar

"What's bothering you, beloved?' Undertaker voice is soft, smooth as he leaned over your shoulder.

It was a quiet evening, the sky outside stained with the deep hues of twilight. You stood awkwardly in the middle of Undertaker’s shop, repeatedly stomping your foot on the floor, the strange mix of eerie silence and morbid decor somehow comforting as uou think and rethink what you're about to do. But tonight, you had a mission; to confess your feelings.

It was easier said than done, though. Even more when he was close, beautiful smile growing on his lips as the seconds go by.

His pale hair fell over his face as usual, and he was grinning like always, that secretive smile of his that you had grown so fond of, as you helped him. Your heart pounded as you took a shaky breath.

You had to tell him tonight. You couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

"Uhm... Undertaker?" Your voice came out more uncertain than you'd hoped.

His head lifted, green eyes twinkling mischievously from behind that curtain of silver hair. "Oh~? Ready to talk?" His voice, a mixture of amusement and intrigue, sent shivers down your spine as always.

You wrung your hands together, suddenly regretting your decision. But it was too late to back out now. “I, uh… I need to tell you something. Something important. So can you spare a few seconds for me, please?"

Undertaker's grin widened, a curious tilt to his head as he leaned over the counter, his long fingers drumming lightly against the wood. "Oh? Now you've piqued my interest! Go on, dear. I’m all ears."

You swallowed hard, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I... I think, well, it's not that I think, more like feel, if you know what I mean. Uh, I love you.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and terrifying. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze and you felt colder than the corpses laying on the morgue. The shop was still, and all you could hear was your own heartbeat thundering in your ears.

Undertaker’s grin didn’t falter. In fact, it widened even more, if that was possible. A low chuckle bubbled up from his throat, and he stood up straighter, his towering form stepping closer to you. "Oh, my sweet little dove..." His voice was soft now, almost tender, but with that ever-present edge of playfulness. "I’ve been waiting for this moment for quite some time."

You blinked, utterly confused. “W-Wait… what?”

Another chuckle, and this time, he reached out, his hand tilting your chin up so you were forced to look into those glinting, knowing eyes. “Did you really think you were the only one with feelings?” His voice was almost a purr, his touch gentle but firm. “I’ve loved you from the very beginning, my dear. I’ve just been waiting for you to realize it.”

Your heart was beating so fast and loudly, you could hear it pulsating on your ears. “Wait… you felt the same all this time?!”

He laughed again, and the sound was warm, though still a bit unsettling in the dim light of the shop. “Oh, my precious one, I’ve known for quite a while. Your little stares, the way you’d linger around me, even when you thought I didn’t notice, always so eager to help even when I didnt need help.”

His fingers traced along your jaw, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. "You were just so delightfully unaware, it was too fun to watch you figure it out."

You felt your whole face burn. All this time, he had known? And not just known, but reciprocated? Gosh, you spent so many sleepless nights wondering and dreaming about a life with him when you confessed, and we're reciprocated.

“I-I had no idea,” you muttered, completely flustered.

His grin softened, becoming almost fond as he pulled you into a warm hug. “That’s what made it so cute.” His fingers threaded through your hair now, his touch gentle, but there was something possessive in the way his hand lingered. “But don’t worry, now that you’ve confessed… things will be a little different.”

Different. The word lingered in your mind, and a chill ran through you — not out of fear, but from the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his presence. You’d known the Undertaker was an odd man, eccentric and unpredictable, but there was something in the way he looked at you now that felt different. Darker. Deeper.

"Different?" You repeated, your voice barely a whisper.

His grin returned, that playful glint in his eyes gleaming once more. “Oh yes… Now that you’re mine, I won’t have to hold back anymore.” He pulled you closer, his hands firm yet affectionate. “I won’t let anything take you away from me. Not now. Not ever.”

His words sent a thrill through you, a mix of fear and excitement that you couldn’t quite place. But as you stood there in his arms, looking into his eyes, you knew that you had fallen into something far more intense than you’d ever anticipated.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ As your lover, Undertaker takes things slow and he is so gentle with you, while also maintaing his odd sense of humor. He makes you laugh till your belly hurts. The days don't change suddenly, they're still the same as you help him around the shop, hear his jokes and make him tea - because God know his cookies and tea are terrible, perhaps you should also teach him how to cook.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Yet, with the official title of your lover, he is a little more protective of you, always wanting your to know when you're going out and with who, London is so dangerous, he'd say in a soft tone.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He might not appear, but he is the clingy type, always having a hand on your shoulder or around you, his face nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in your scent. He likes having you this close; he is like a puppy, so demanding of your attention and care. You're finally his beloved and can't believe it. He's been dreaming about this for so long.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He likes to show you off to customers but he absolutely loathes whenever you are near the Earl and his pet demon. In these times, he may send you to run some errands as he wraps things up with them. He is jealous of you, of anyone who may come too close. He is a possessive grim reaper, always have been and now it's going to get worse; yet he will never let you realize it.

[magknightidv]

Richard sterling x prince (hunter) reader. I really like the classics 😒. I also think it would be a cute dynamic

Uh, one second while I just- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH.

Alr thank you for your time I'll get to writing now :3 I'm going out on a limb and guessing you want a male reader and not a gender neutral reader, but lmk if you want me to rewrite it for that.

Disobedience.

(Was written before I gained better understanding of his character so he may be ooc)

Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect of an Idv fanfic ig. Swearing, Mentions of aggression. (They kinda hate eachother through the first bit but trust the process), Fluff :3

Info: I originally intended to go for headcanons and then short little drabbles.. but ig this is what you get when you're hit with horrific brainrot for one character. [WRITTEN BEFORE HIS OFFICIAL RELEASE, I DONT REMEMBER IF PEOPLE LEAKED HIS ABILITIES SO IM KEEPING THAT DESCRIPTION MINIMAL]

Richard Sterling x Male! Hunter! Prince! Reader

---

This Manor isn't to my liking. Too small. Compact. Nobody listens to me either. Disrespectful little rats. Have they no idea who I am?

Have I really been forgotten by the world that quickly? Surely not. Sister would not have let that happen, I'm sure. Of the entire family, she loved me. She saw me. She saw me as I am, not as the misconceptions they've had of me since the day I was born.

My eyelids finally force themselves open as the curtains of the room I've been placed in are pushed open by an unremarkable face I will likely never remember. Nobody of importance, however, the woman bows and makes a swift exit as she meets my eyes. She had quickly muttered something along the lines of "Breakfast is ready to be served."

Hm. Food didn't seem to even get a rise out of me anymore. The thought having lost its appeal after my incident. Court of fools. Court of shrivelled cocks and frog faced women. Neither appealing yet praised as though they are Gods greatest gifts. Can't even protect their prince from something as simple-minded as poisons in his meals. I suppose I should make an appearance before my "games" today, see who I am to be matched against to begin with.

The newest survivors are often who I am matched with as I am a new hunter. The Lady Nightingale, as I have learned to refer to her as, has insisted that it is the best way for us to adapt to our situation. The Fire Investigator seems particularly taken by the poor burnt Puppet man. Ms Mora, although sometimes able to fool me, often lacks the correct facilities to correctly defend herself against me. However, the role that catches my eye upon the list of survivors I am to play against is The "Knight". A name not seen by the other hunters, according to Mr Desaulnier. He claims to have heard whispers amongst the staff attending to us all but he merely thought it to be just rumours and gossip. Of all the Hunters, Joseph Desaulnier has been the best example of what a friend is in this sort of situation. He has been respectful and taught me the ropes all he asks in return is my reciprocated respect.

My eyes scan over the heads of the survivors currently nearby, all familiar faces in a sense. Although I have not been here long, I am aware of the majority of the survivors present in the manor and their general styles. Nothing out of the ordinary, I suppose.

♡♡♡

I have vague memories of a handful of matches I've played in this place. The Red Church. Lots of walls and the main church building is rather open, often a cipher placed on there making the chase for the survivors slightly harder if they do not get enough distance in time. My goal for this match, however, is not to find my usual survivors. I understand them, I wish to study the new puzzling enigma that is the "Knight".

An odd sort of sight is given to us hunters that allows us to see the machines being worked on. Slight shakes on multiple at once, its only a matter of figuring out which would be best to go to. Church it is. Whoever is there, regardless of it being the one I want or not will likely try to pass off the kite to another as there was a sudden switch of the journalist to the composer. I am more likely to find one of their decoders but one can only hope to be so lucky.

As I make my way to the church an odd figure is there to greet me. He looks up from the machine in shock and takes a defensive stance, this allows me to get a better view of the man. His hair is long and perhaps considered unneat but in a charming sort of way. He wears an outfit that exudes the very concept of nobility to a high level most of my fathers court could not even pull off. His face is angular and a beauty mark sits below his lips to his right side. He regains his composure as he realises I am not here to attack him. The church is quiet as a cipher is finished most likely by the composer in the far corner. Aside from the large popping noise it makes nothing is said between us, not until he decides to open his lips.

"Are you not the one sent to hunt us all? I am I truly so intimidating that you have become incomplete." Stern words, harsh even but it does not bother me as it is the sort of taunting I have received many times through my time. His eyes narrow viciously. Two colours? I would not have noticed had I not taken this time to study him, his left eye a stony blue colour and his right, a deep brown with green tints in both. At this point to have been able to see this I have since gotten closer subconsciously. As though drawn to his prescense. I catch myself before i get too caught up in it all however.

"I am the Prince. Your Prince. Show more respect, if you truly deem yourself to be an honourable knight." He seems to smirk at my title and his confidence only appears to double.

"So a spoiled brat, demanding obedience as though all around are his new pet puppy dogs?" He's trying to get a reaction. His arrogance is almost reflective of my own however he must have a means to be doing this or is it simply for his own pleasure, as my reason had been to observe. "How rude. You are no Prince of mine, not until you prove it. So, shall we dance, Your Grace?"

My composure slips at the words and I feel the angered snear take over my features, my stance becomes more offensive and I begin to hastily move towards the cocky man. "Speak not of being a brat. You're disobedience will get you nowhere but a chair back to the manor."

The chase was not as long as I was expecting, I suppose he truly was arrogant in his abilities today. Time will tell if he masters his skills. A tie was all I could manage with the hinderance the Knights and my initial meeting gave me. I am forever grateful that the Faro Lady believes she can be a rescuer with her ability, a terrorshock is all it takes.

The Knight appears to want to become my antithesis. So that is all he shall be. An idea abstracted from my own and strange.

☆☆☆

- After the first meeting they appear to be forced together through consistent matches against one another or rumors spreading that the two knew eachother prior to the manor.

- False rumors but you suppose it is not completely unreasonable that a prince and a knight, or so his name claims him to be, to be closer than other roles within the manor.

- He says little to others, and when he does it is often sickeningly sweet words. Sugarcoated truths made to seem like the words are kinder than they are just to draw others in.

- few had fallen for it so he had abandoned such a tactic in favour of bothering you in some form.

- be it in matches, his improvement in the way he moves through each map having improved significantly. Easily gliding past obstacles and dodging your skills. A real pest.

- Tension seems to continuously rise with no seeming resolve in sight. That is until one day you walk past the music room.

- Expecting the violinist on the other side of the door as the melody continues on, only to be met with the closed eyes of the Knight as he plays a somber tune.

- You go unnoticed until the end of the song, a smile forming on your face. His eyes flash open as though some otherworldly being made him aware of your presence.

- A silent understanding forms between the two of you. As though no words were ever needed between the two of you, simply because you both understood.

- The tension dissipates within seconds.

- You and the "Knight" seem to find a deeper understanding of eachother over time. He learns of your past and attempts to sympathise with your unjust demise, while he shares stories of his past before the loss of his family.

- He wishes to find his 'sister' but as time passes he finds himself drawn to you, wishing never to leave your side.

- That is exactly what he does. He takes the role of a true Knight that protects his master, although he still has a tongue as sharp as a blade and swift wit that goes completely unmatched by most others in the manor.

- He cannot seem to ever truly listen to your commands, but suppose it is the thought that counts.

---- fin.

OKAY I LOWKEY FELT I WAS WAFFLING ON AND FORGOT WHAT I WAS WRITING, I DIDNT EVEN ADD SOME OF THE STUFF I WANTED TO CAUSE MY TIMES FOR WRITING WERE SO CLUNKY BUT HEY I GOT IT DONE EVENTUALLY!!

(Not proof read, I'll go back and get that done lol)

[stoneantler]

Don't ask me why this matters so much to me but here are my Disco Elysium character apartment headcanons.

Harry: He has a second or third floor apartment what used to be a residential house. He has his own bathroom but there are some people in the building who have to share bathrooms. His apartment overlooks a liquor store where people line up in the morning to buy their first bottles. The shop has a neon sign that stays on all night and keeps Harry up with how bright it is. The lights are made more annoying by the fact that his blinds are broken and he has no curtains. Whoever installed his shower had to have been drunk because the knob for cold water gives him hot water and knob for hot gives him cold. He moved in after he and Dora broke up and he's decided he's going to die in that apartment.

Jean: He's got a basement apartment that receives no sunlight whatsoever. It's on a quiet side street but he does see people's feet going by his barred windows sometimes. His apartment is disgusting and he has a mouse who refuses to die no matter who many traps he puts out. He got the place really thinking that it would be a fresh start, a temporary stop onto bigger things but he got complacent. It just seems too hard to get a new place and he's dug in now. Any time he thinks about moving, calling up Judit or Harry to help him pack, he's overcome with anxiety about how terribly gross his apartment is. He's too busy and too sad to clean it.

Kim: He lives near the top of a eight story "high rise." The whole building runs on one radiator system that's centrally controlled and of course the heat rises to make his apartment sweltering in the middle of the winter. A very old grandmother lived in his apartment before he did so there are some lingering touches from her time there like floral wallpaper in the bathroom and some forgotten doilies that live in a kitchen drawer. The whole apartment is clean, functional, and organized. It's not quite a studio but there's not much differentiation between the spaces. He spends almost all of his time in the kitchen, not necessarily cooking, just sitting at the table reading or going over case files.

[atinycafe]

MEETING HYUNG LINE ATZ 4 THE FIRST TIME — headcanons

pairing: ateez hyung line (psh, khj, jyh, kys) x fem!reader genre: fluff wrd cnt: 4.2k warnings: different aus for each boy, violence + language + annoying man hitting on reader (hwa's part), groping and sexual harassment by creep (yuyu's part) + mention of needles and blood (yeo's part), petnames note: this weirdly took me so long that's why i didn't post my usual tiny drabbles these past days, like i think you can actually see me lose interest in writing this as you go on further and further in the post, but anyway if you like it, feel free to tell me so i can write 4 the maknae line, feel free to request anything, i'll write it 4 u bb, also completely out of context but yeosang's initials are crazy like sir?? masterlist

　　○˳　　　🎭　　　idol!hongjoong x model!reader (1.3k)

you ready yourself for what lies ahead, inhaling soft breaths to steady your nerves. you make a conscious effort not to bite on your acrylic nails, a habit that helps alleviate your stress. standing in a line filled with seasoned models, you find yourself at the forefront.

this marks your first time opening for a catwalk show, and it happens to be for balmain, one of your favorite brands. you can sense the gaze of more experienced mannequins piercing the back of your head, intensifying your desire to disappear completely.

excitement courses through you, but it is overshadowed by overwhelming anxiety. your stomach tightens beneath the long black bodycon dress. the excessively high heels dig uncomfortably into your feet, and the black fur coat feels hot and itchy against your skin. a golden necklace dips between your breasts, accentuating the deep v-cut of your dress.

gazing down at your legs, you can feel the tightness of the dress, accentuating their curves forcefully. the thought of appearing awkward while attempting to strut along the runway plagues your mind. you pout and try to recall the words of your therapist, assuring yourself that everything will be okay, despite your rising anxiety.

the staff begins the final checks on the models, informing you that the show will commence in 10 minutes. everyone nods, preparing themselves. some models ask their personal assistants to double-check their hair and makeup, while others place their healthy smoothies on the large tables at the sides.

you remain still, already prepared, though the weight of the coat on your body feels burdensome. breathing becomes a challenge, but you push through the discomfort. fake it till you make it—perhaps the placebo effect can work in your favor now; you desperately need it.

you all stand behind the grand curtains, the sound of music signaling the beginning of the show. having practiced a new, slightly more sensual catwalk routine for this occasion, you convince yourself that everything will be fine. however, the fuck ass coat… it weighs so heavily upon you.

recognizing your cue, you part the curtains on the first drop of the music. the lights dramatically illuminate your silhouette as you push your anxiety to the back of your mind, casting a seductive smirk toward the audience on either side of the runway.

you start strutting slowly, each step perfectly synchronized with the bass of the song. you know you look good, feeling your hips sway enticingly. yet, you can't help but notice the tightness in your chest and the sudden difficulty in breathing. fuck that damn coat.

quickly contemplating your options, you realize no one is behind you. if you take a dramatic pause, it won't disrupt the flow. and so, you do just that. in the middle of the runway, you come to a halt, gracefully turning on yourself as if putting on a show for the spectators. removing your coat, you reveal the backless dress beneath, flinging the fur onto someone seated in the front row. gasps of astonishment ripple through the crowd, and the camera flashes multiply, blinding you to the identity of the recipient of your 10-kilogram coat—only catching a glimpse of orange hair.

resuming your stride, you are well aware that this impulsive act will likely be splattered across social media for months. you suppress a laugh as you imagine the dramatic edits that will ensue. with the burden of the coat lifted, you finally feel free from the weight that had fueled your anxiety.

having completed the walk flawlessly, you now find yourself in your own small cubicle—a room of your own, courtesy of your friendship with olivier rousteing. seated in a chair, donning simple shorts and a t-shirt, you sip on your americano. your

face is adorned with a white face mask as you stare intently at something on your phone, hugging your knees.

the door creaks open, and you assume it's your assistant finally arriving to inform you that your uber has arrived. pushing against the dressing table, you swivel the rolling chair to face the door, only to be met with a stranger.

both of your mouths hang open in surprise, and you simply gaze at each other in disbelief. you, because you find yourself face-to-face with one of your favorite singers, hongjoong from ateez. and him, because he didn't expect you to look so adorable after witnessing the mature show you put on just thirty minutes ago.

"uhh, can i help you?" you ask, swiftly removing the mask and straightening yourself, coughing softly in awkwardness.

"uh, yeah, you… umm, dropped this earlier," he points to the weighty coat in his grasp, and your jaw drops once more.

you just threw that coat at kim fucking hongjoong. you wish you could disappear.

"oh shit, sorry, i…" you begin to stand up, almost causing the cup of americano in your lap to tumble. but you catch it in the nick of time, your reflexes acting swiftly, even as your embarrassment threatens to engulf you. "did it hurt?" you blurt out in a quick squeak.

did it hurt? did it hurt?? you must be out of your damn mind. what kind of question is that? your face flushes, and the redhead before you can only stare in shock before bursting into laughter.

"shit sorry, 'm not making fun of you, i promise precious," he manages to say in between wheezes, tears forming in his eyes. "no, it didn't. don't worry about me. i'm stronger than i look." you let out an awkward laugh, finding some amusement in the situation as well, and you wipe at your face, feeling exhausted. it's only 9 pm, but you've been at this place since dawn. hongjoong notices the tired smile on your face and straightens up.

"i didn't know who to give it to. i figured since you… uhh, wore it," he trails off, hoping you'd understand that he didn't want to waste your time.

"that's so nice of you, if i were you i would've kept it to be honest," you laugh, finally starting to feel at ease. and he smiles.

he smiles. your brain goes haywire at the sight, and you can't help but make a quick remark, "could i get your autograph?"

he looks at you as if you've just asked him the most improbable thing in the world, and you bite your lip, scolding yourself internally for getting too comfortable. "sorry, you don't have to—"

"no no no, it's alright. i just didn't think you… knew me," now it's your turn to look at him in the same way he did, and you're at a loss for words.

you try to formulate a response, attempting to convey that he's rather daft for being surprised that you recognize him. but before you can speak, your assistant finally enters the room, holding your considerably lighter coat. he eyes hongjoong up and down, and then turns to you, pointing at him discreetly.

"isn't that the guy you keep fangirling over?" your horror-stricken gaze meets your assistant's, while hongjoong hides his face behind the fur coat, muffling his laughter within the material.

your assistant fails to read the room and continues, "anyway, your uber's there. come

out whenever you're ready, but make it quick, guys." he gives both of you a knowing look, and you stare back in a mix of confusion and disbelief. he places your brown coat on the chair next to hongjoong and closes the door behind him as he exits.

"sorry about him, man. he's weird. don't mind him," you start, tossing the empty cup of americano into the trash along with the face mask you had worn. as you reach for your brown clothing, you pass by hongjoong, noticing how his eyes follow you, his smile never fading. his cologne wafts around him, but you resist the urge to inhale deeply. while putting on your coat, hongjoong finally smirks.

"i'll give you my autograph next time i see you, along with that coat. in exchange, give me your number."

○˳　　　🏍️　　　gangster!seonghwa x chaebol!reader (0.9k)

you're chilling in the vip section of one of seoul's most famous clubs. having a blast with your girlfriends, clinking glasses, and laughing uproariously. everyone around recognizes you as the daughter of a prominent politician, shamelessly having a good time with other influential figures' daughters, but they mind their own business.

you feel the judgmental gazes on you, but you try to ignore them, not wanting to let them ruin your night. your father wasn't the best person, openly feasting on the public's taxes. he was awful both in public and private. you're relieved he's a deadbeat dad, with his messed up personality, you don't have to deal with him.

you'd rather spend his ill-gotten money on clubbing and shopping, reclaiming a small piece of what he's taken from the nation. it might be foolish, but hey, you're just a young girl. what else can you do?

your thoughts are interrupted when one of your girls grabs your arm, slurring about wanting to dance. you both giggle as her words come out in slow motion. you stand up, letting her lead you onto the dance floor.

you move to the beat, her body pressed against your back, her hands caressing your bare waist as yours wave in the air. she leans in, her nose brushing against your hoop earring, and she shouts over the loud music about a guy who keeps checking you out. you turn to her, silently asking "where?" and she points behind you.

you pivot, following her gesture, and lock eyes with a man sitting in a vip section similar to yours. he's at the edge of a circular seat, accompanied by seven other guys. as his gaze meets yours, he smirks, the club's lasers reflecting off the grills in his mouth. you flash a smile, then turn away, acting unfazed. your friend catches on, throwing her head back in laughter as she teasingly grabs a handful of your ass. both of you erupt in fits of giggles, behaving like immature high school students.

the night carries on, and you grow tired of dancing. the other girls have joined you on the dance floor, so you leave them and head to the bar. you ask the bartender for a glass of water, hoping to refresh yourself a bit. suddenly, you feel a large hand on the small of your back. you smile, assuming it's the stranger from earlier, but when you turn around, your smile fades. it's some random guy, much older, and you recoil in disgust, smoothing over the spot he touched with your palm.

"ew, back off. not interested," you say dismissively, not even bothering to look at him. you shift your focus to the bartender, who gives you a sympathetic smile. he places the glass of water in front of you and goes off to clean other glasses.

the man, who still hasn't budged from behind you, snatches your drink and takes a sip. you look at him, utterly shocked, thinking, "what the fuck does he think he's doing?" he carelessly drops the cup right next to your hand on the table, causing the water to splash onto your fingers, making you flinch.

"water? nah, let me get you something good, babe. what do you want? i can get you anything," he yells at the bartender, who gives you a questioning look. you shake your head in refusal. when the guy sees that you both ignore him, he starts getting agitated.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" he snaps at you. funny, you were thinking the same thing. "you think you're better than me or something? i know who you are, you bitch. just because your daddy's th—"

before he can finish his sentence, his head slams onto the table, and he crumples to the floor, leaving a streak of blood where his nose hit the wood. you turn to the person who just knocked him out.

"seonghwa, nice to meet you, pretty. sorry about him. he won't bother you anymore," he says calmly as he takes a seat next to you, motioning for someone to remove the unconscious body. you stare at him in astonishment before taking a sip of your water, letting the cool liquid calm you down.

he signals the bartender, who swiftly approaches, discussing a glass on the rocks. the older man nods unsteadily. taking advantage of the moment, you let your eyes wander over his face. he's attractive, but that's not what catches your attention. the dragon tattoo peeks out from his shirt, extending along the side of his neck. it's the symbol of the notorious gang and, surprisingly, the owners of the club you're in.

"you often handle paying patrons like that?" you inquire, taking another sip of your water and gazing straight ahead.

now it's his turn to feel your gaze on his profile, and you can hear his chuckle. "i only do that to the ones who scare the highest-paying patrons," he cleverly replies, alluding to your wealthy background. you roll your eyes and turn to face him, resting your elbows on the table and propping your cheek on your fists.

"'m not paying for my water, you are," you state, and he laughs, mimicking your posture by resting his cheek on his hand.

"am i now? and why would i do that, pretty?" he smirks. you can now see the details of his grills more clearly, small diamonds adorning the silver jewelry, and you smirk right back at him. a few strands of hair fall across your face as your body shakes with laughter.

"'cause you got a crush on me," you drawl out the last word, your smile widening, your cheeks starting to hurt. he moves one hand to your face, gently brushing the hair away with a feather-light touch, and chuckles softly.

"such a smart girl."

　　○˳　　　🚟　　　student!yunho x student!reader (0.8k)

you gaze down at the subway floor beneath your feet, gripping your eyes tightly. the train compartment is packed to the brim, the morning rush causing people to scramble and squeeze together. however, you're well aware that the hand grazing against your skirt is no accidental result of the cramped space.

clenching your fists, you lean your forehead against the windowpane of the door ahead, seeking solace in the cold surface. a scream wells up within you, the desire to make a scene overwhelming, but this is the first time such a thing has happened to you. frozen, you're unable to react.

your eyes sting with tears, and you attempt to hold them back, but they refuse to be contained. small droplets trickle down your cheeks, and you gently brush them away with the sleeves of your uniform.

suddenly, the subway screeches to a halt, reaching a new station before the doors slide open in front of you. you lower your gaze to the floor, your hair partially obscuring your face, and you notice only one pair of jordan 4 sneakers and a pair of pants resembling the ones worn by boys in your school. your curiosity leads you to glance up swiftly, and there stands one of the tallest boys you've ever seen. he's a stranger, someone you've never crossed paths with before, but you surmise he must be a new student at your school, given the familiar uniform.

he stares at your face, taking note of the tear tracks on your cheeks, then casts a quick glance behind you, piercing through the person who has been violating your boundaries for the past five minutes. in an instant, he connects the dots, understanding the situation, and his expression changes from shock to anger.

he steps into the train, forcefully grabbing the man behind you before hurling him out with a powerful throw. the man lands on his rear with a grunt, and before he can utter a word, the doors seal shut.

you have no time to react as more people flood in through the other subway doors, inadvertently pushing against your body. almost losing your balance, the boy behind you grabs your forearm, turning you around and gently pressing you against the door. his hands shield you from the surrounding crowd, his larger and stronger frame providing protection.

you can only gaze up at him, fear evident in your wide eyes, while he looks down at the others around him, his face reflecting displeasure as people jostle against him. eventually, he looks back at you, and his expression softens.

"sorry for touching you like that," he whispers, and you feel a tug at your heart, strangely soothed by his voice despite his recent shoving and pushing.

"like what?" you respond softly, perplexed because he has nothing to apologize for; in fact, he did the complete opposite by helping you fend off the harasser.

he simply gestures toward your forearm with his long finger, not even making contact, alluding to the moment he turned you to face him.

"oh," you glance down at your arm, "'s alright," you say awkwardly.

silence hangs between the two of you. you try not to dwell on how close he is to you, but this time, the proximity doesn't make you uncomfortable. while yunho gazes upward, deliberately avoiding meeting your eyes, he can't help but notice their beauty—the way they shine so brightly with tears—making him feel breathless, as though he could suffocate if he stares for too long, forgetting to breathe.

"by the way, thank you for, umm…" you finally manage to speak, still unable to meet his gaze as his eyes find their way back to you, "you know, yeah, thanks."

he's about to reply, insisting it was nothing, when the door behind you opens. a gasp escapes your lips as you begin to lose your balance, but his hand instinctively reaches out, pulling you closer and helping you regain stability.

he tries to create distance between you, but the stream of people surging in from behind prevents it. the next station is even more crowded than the previous, as it draws nearer to downtown. pressed tightly against his chest, your left cheek resting against his pec, you can hear his heartbeat quicken. the closeness causes his ears and neck to turn bright red.

once both of you step out of the subway, finally arriving at the station that leads to your school, you release a weary sigh simultaneously. at the sound, you look at each other and share a soft chuckle.

walking in the same direction, you have a feeling that getting this close to yunho won't be a one-time occurrence.

　　○˳　　　💉　　　doctor!yeosang x patient!reader (1.2k)

"so, how did that happen?" yeosang mumbles as he checks out the open gash on your hairline, his gloved hands carefully examining the wound. you wince in pain when he applies a bit too much pressure, and he gives you an apologetic look before returning to his seat, tossing the gloves into the tiny trash can beside him.

you're in one of the er rooms, sitting on the examination table, and you're grateful for the blood smeared on your face, hiding the blush you can't help but feel around the cute doctor. you nervously bite your lip, and he notices, reaching out with his thumb to release your poor lip from the clutches of your teeth. you don't overthink the gesture; after all, he's a doctor who doesn't want you to cause another injury to your face.

raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, he expects an answer to his previous question. you fiddle with your fingers, trying to come up with a response that won't embarrass you. eventually, you let your shoulders slump in defeat and clear your throat.

"my friend, uh, told me a joke, and it made my stomach hurt. i clutched my stomach," you explain, and he nods along, ensuring he follows the story. "but then, when i bent down too fast, i ended up smacking my head on the glass table and, umm, breaking it…"

he hides his face behind his palm, scribbling something in the paper placed in your folder. you can tell from the shaking of his shoulders that he's laughing. he mumbles something about how the joke must've been really funny.

you offer a shaky smile as he explains the next steps you'll need to take at home. he mentions that you won't require sutures since he doesn't want any obvious scarring, which is a relief because you're not exactly fond of needles. he continues talking about the medications and creams you'll need to apply to your face every night and day for the next month. you agree with a soft nod, feeling the throbbing headache intensify with each movement.

he hands you a prescription paper, and as you reach for it, you nearly stumble, experiencing the same dizziness that preceded fainting. but he catches you in his strong arms with lightning reflexes. you pull back, clutching your head instead, as the headache reaches unbearable levels.

yeosang notices your distress and swiftly guides you back onto the bed, using the gentlest movements. he takes hold of your chin between his fingers and looks into your fluttering eyes as you struggle to keep them open. worry lines crease his forehead as he reaches into his front pocket, retrieving not a pen, but a small flashlight. he shines it in your face, swiftly passing it in front of your eyes to check for dilation.

"you've lost quite a bit of blood," he says, his jaw tensing with concern as he lightly traces the back of his fingers along your cheekbones. "i can't believe i missed that…"

you wave your hand dismissively, whispering that it's okay since you only recently started feeling the effects of the blood loss.

"do you know your blood type? we need to transfuse, sweetheart," he whispers, clicking on his laptop, most likely searching for your blood type in your folder, which isn't available since this is your first visit to this hospital. you don't dwell on the endearment, too focused on recalling your blood type from memory.

"no, sorry, i don't remember," you meekly reply, feeling a tinge of embarrassment. after all, what adult doesn't know their own blood type?

"it's okay," he reassures, turning to you with a soft smile. "i'll take a sample, send it to one of the nurses, and they'll find out for us, okay?"

the question is rhetorical, and you realize it. you don't bother mentioning your fear of needles; it's not that you're scared of them, but you just don't want them penetrating your body.

with wide eyes and clammy hands, you agree with a small nod. yeosang immediately notices your tension. your knee bounces up and down rapidly, and your hands tremble slightly in your lap. he doesn't say anything as he retrieves a disinfected syringe from a small plastic container, along with two tubes.

he brings a chair in front of you and takes a seat, bringing himself down to your level. you gaze at him through your lashes, and yeosang feels his heart skip a beat. he takes a deep breath, then gently holds your hands, rubbing his thumbs softly against your skin. he can feel your rapid heartbeat under his touch and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"hey," he simply says, and you look at him, waiting for more. when no further words come, you respond with a quiet "hey" of your own.

"good, the patient is responsive, not a lifeless body," he smiles crookedly, cracking a joke that brings a smile to your face.

"wow, the patient is even smiling. today must be my lucky day," your smile widens, and he releases your hands. you hadn't realized how grounding his touch had been until it disappeared.

he grabs your arm and places your hand on his lap, palm facing up. he starts tapping the crook of your elbow since you're wearing a t-shirt, trying to locate your veins. when they don't appear, he clucks his tongue and takes hold of your smaller fist in his own, manually making your hand clench while his other hand remains on your forearm, attempting to raise a vein.

you remain silent and still, focusing on his concentrated expression. his eyebrows furrow, and his eyes remain fixed except for the occasional blink. his strong nose defines his face, and you notice the spot where he bites his cheek from inside his mouth. there's a small birthmark next to his eye, shaped like a tiny heart, and you find it endearing.

"enjoying the view?" he smirks, and before you can respond to defend your honor, he grabs the syringe, effectively silencing you. he tears open the packaging, discarding the waste on the table, and approaches your arm.

you flinch when he places a hand on your forearm, and he looks up at you with a gentle smile. however, the sight of the needle next to his face does little to calm you.

"'m gonna need you to keep your eyes on me, can you do that?" he asks, and you nod once, not planning on fixating on the impending puncture. "i'll make it quick, i promise, princess. do you trust me?" once again, you nod, this time thrown off balance by the endearing nickname, which he notices through the quiver of your lips.

"if i asked for your number, would you give it to me?" he shocks you with the question, as he's one of the most beautiful humans you've ever encountered, and here you are, looking like a complete mess with half your face covered in blood and a massive hole in your forehead.

"y-yeah, i would, obviously," you stammer, and he swiftly inserts the needle, hitting the vein accurately—something for which you're internally grateful. instinctively, you glance downward, but he quickly clicks his tongue, drawing your attention back.

"what did we say, eyes on me," he shows off his perfect teeth as he finally removes the needle, carefully transferring its contents into the two small bottles which he pushes aside. "now about this phone number."

[goingmerryfics]

Losing Your Head - Reader x Buggy

Content: established relationship, Buggy calls you beautiful. No specific gender mentioned, sfw

Notes* Headcanon: Buggy unintentionally disassembles when he sleeps. You just so happen to wake up beside him and experience it for the first time.

~

Light shone through the crack in the curtains. The ship rocked gently from side to side from the force of the waves, and you knew from the voices travelling through the halls that the crew members of The Big Top were up and beginning their day and, as clingy as they are, would be coming to bang on the door any minute now to demand the presence of their captain.

Even still, you groaned at the harsh sunlight in your vision as you peeked an eye open. Pulling the blankets up high over your head to block out the light and potentially get 5 more minutes before the crew’s rude awakening, you shifted forward to cuddle into Buggy’s torso, stealing his warmth. Even though you were wide awake now, you still wanted to steal a few more moments of peace with him while you still had the time alone together.

You and your captain had been in a low-key relationship for a while now, and it was the norm that you two couldn’t get some peace and quiet until after the crew had gone to sleep. You swear that they would die without their captain for two minutes, even though they were happy to abandon him when they proclaimed him dead ages ago…

Anyway, the relationship between you two managed to continue even with the constant interruptions. It hadn’t got to the point where the two of you were ready for anything too intimate, but it was nice to sleep next to each other. Apparently, Buggy was a huge cuddle bug.

Your eyes open again and watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He’s snoring as usual, but it sounds distant enough not to bother you. Considering your head was laid up on his chest, it doesn’t hit you how odd that is for a few moments after you’re properly woken up.

You look up to where his face should be and find no head. You’re just cuddling a torso.

You scream and throw yourself back, landing on your ass out of his bed. You’re not awake enough to remember his Devil Fruit power, so when your scream wakes Buggy from his sleep and his missing head- which is under the bed, slowly blinking awake -smiles and speaks, you scream again.

“Morning there, beautiful.”

“What the FUCK!?”

He quickly blinks awake at the panic, looking around him for any hint of danger, and all his parts which are strewn all across the room, float around to reconnect again. Buggy hits his head on the way, too.

You put a hand on your chest and take a moment to breathe. Now that Buggy is awake and can see that there’s no danger, he shrieks, “What was that for!? You nearly gave me a heart attack screaming like that!”

You point a finger at him from the floor. “You never warned me that you do that! Disassembling in your sleep! That’s going to haunt me for ages!”

Before Buggy can retort with anything, there’s a knock at his door, and you hear Mohji’s voice.

“Captain…?”

Cabaji’s comes next, “Is Y/N in there with you?”

You and Buggy share a look, knowing this will require the both of you to come clean to them. You can’t wait to hear their weird comments about this…

[hyperactively-me]

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE LISTEN TO ME PLEASE

141 Task Force + Ale and Kö with a ballerina civilian wife. THEN!!! (NO PLEASE THIS IS SO CUTE LISTEN) They came back from a mission without warning and they go to a presentation bcse they never actually saw one AND!!!! Their wife almost pass out in the middle of the stage by seeing them there (they look at her all in love and proud UGHHH).

THIS IS HELLA CUTE BYE-

BESTIE I'M LISTENING. LOUD AND CLEAR. this is so cute omg!!! also, i've never written for anyone other than ghost, and i don't have the confidence to write for anyone other than simon, so please don't be upset but i will be writing this only for ghost. (although, i genuinely want to get some practice in writing for all the other COD men, which i am trying to somewhat do through my king!ghost au, i just don't wanna fuck up their characters too badly haha. if at any point i decide to write for the others, i will totally come back to this prompt!). also, i wanted to make this more into a oneshot rather than blurb/headcanons soooo! yeah!

As the soft notes of The Sleeping Beauty Suite filled the dimly lit theater, you stood backstage, your heart racing. You sat on a spare box, fastening your pointe shoes on securely. The spotlight beckoned, the hushed whispers of the audience creating a palpable tension in the stiff air. The curtains were about to rise, and you were the prima ballerina. As you finished fastening your pointe shoes, you stood, brushing out your tutu. The weight of anticipation bore down on you, but you stood tall, chin up, back straight. You had practiced this routine a hundred times. It was just another night, another ballet. Nothing you weren’t used to. 

Except it wasn’t. 

You didn’t know your husband had just slipped in through the doors. He was still in his uniform, except for his mask and tactical gear. He never wore the mask around you. 

You had no idea that tonight would be different. All you knew was that Simon was not supposed to come back home for another three weeks. He had been deployed for three long months now. Your heart ached just thinking about how long you’ve been without him, the loneliness and longing that came with being a military spouse weighing heavy on you. 

The sudden sound of the orchestra snapped you out of your daydream, and the curtain began its ascent. Your delicate tutu billowed around you as you took your first step onto the stage, your body moving with the grace and precision that only years of training could produce.

But then, in the midst of your pirouettes and arabesques, something caught your eye in the sea of dimly lit faces. A figure, tall and strong, standing in the back of the theater. The world around you blurred as your heart leapt into your throat. It couldn't be.

Simon.

The shock of seeing him in the audience was enough to make you falter, to disrupt the airy balance of your performance. You stumble over your feet slightly, your knees shaky from the sudden interruption. 

You recover as best you can, continuing to dance. Your eyes locked onto his, you wanted to cry. He was home early. And he was here to watch you. His expression was one of awe and pride, like a lovesick puppy gazing at his beautiful wife.

You pranced and twirled, lost in the music and the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. It was as if the two of you were the only people in the world, the stage your sanctuary.

As the final notes of the music filled the theater, you struck your final pose, your breath ragged, your body trembling. The audience erupted into applause, their adoration washing over you like a warm embrace. But your eyes remained locked with Simon's, who was clapping with ferocious fever. His eyes never left yours. You flash him a teary, wet smile.

As soon as the curtains closed, you fell from your pose, taking in a ragged breath. 

Your fellow ballerinas had come up to congratulate you on a beautiful performance, but all you could do was say a rushed “thank you” before you were running through the backstage area. The backstage was a labyrinth of bustling dancers, stagehands, and dimly lit corridors. Your heart raced as you rushed to find a way out into the audience to reach Simon. The echoes of applause still reverberated through the walls, but all that mattered now was him.

Finally, you burst through a side door that led to the theater’s lobby. And there he was, waiting for you, his eyes shining with unbridled love and pride. His dark uniform was a stark contrast to the delicate pink of your ballet attire.

Without a word, you threw yourself into his arms, and he caught you, lifting you off your feet. The world around you ceased to exist as you held each other, tears of joy streaming down your face. His calloused hands wrap around you, squeezing you tight against him. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper into his ear, your watery voice filled with pure happiness. 

“I missed you so much, love.” Simon placed you gently back on your feet, his hands cradling your face with care, wiping away your tears. 

“I missed you, Si,” you take in a shaky breath. “So much.”

“I– I can’t believe you’re here, how did you know?”

“I would never miss my wife’s performance, now would I?” 

A mixture of laughter and tears escaped your lips as you leaned in to kiss him, a deep and passionate kiss. It felt like a dream come true that he was here, watching you perform. It had been ages since he was last able to come to one of your performances, and his support meant the world and more to you. You pull away from the kiss, shoving your face into his neck.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his voice reverberating in your eardrums. “You looked beautiful, look beautiful.” 

You pull back, looking at him with a huge smile, rubbing his back gently. "Thank you, Si."

He pulls you back into a tight embrace, wrapping you in his warmth and burly arms. More tears welled up in your eyes, and you clung to him, feeling the weight of the months apart melt away.

His words warmed your heart. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The two of you held each other close, savoring the moment as long as you could.

[yallthemwitches]

Bad Moon Rising

James comes back from a full moon outing with the marauders to find someone in his bed. NSFW—-Canon Compliant Oneshot

I used two of my NSFW headcanons as inspiration. Also had some visual help from the always talented @daiziesssart and @blvnk-art who draw NSFW jily so good it makes me want to cry.

NSFW Headcanons here: https://www.tumblr.com/yallthemwitches/755352465115889664/jily-headcanon-nsfw-edition?source=share

AO3 Link here!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57563776

_____________________________________________________________

The sun was coming up on the other side of the mountains when the boys finally made it back inside the castle. They shuffled quietly together under the invisibility cloak. James and Sirius were now in human form while Peter rode in rat-form on James’ shoulder. By the time they had left Remus, he had curled himself into a corner in the shrieking shack and his transformation was starting to dissipate; Mme. Pomfrey would be there soon with some much needed tea and biscuits and they couldn’t have her catching wind of them. 

They stumbled through the portrait hole and ripped off the cloak. Peter transformed into human form and slumped against the nearest couch.

“The last day of the cycle is always the worst,” he groaned while covering his face with his forearms. They had been out till nearly 6am every day for the past week in order to tend to Remus and were starting to feel the effects of lost sleep. 

James trudged himself into the boys bathroom and threw some water on his face. He had dark circles under his eyes but was feeling wired. Despite exhaustion, he always had trouble getting to sleep after an outing. 

The boys climbed the steps to their dorms and Sirius flung open the door before stopping in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder at James with a smirk.

“We have an intruder again, Prongsy.”

James pushed past Sirius to see his bed curtains had been opened in his absence. Laying half covered by his duvet was Lily, seemingly sound asleep.

She had begun doing this more and more during the full moon. James had not told her the full story about Remus yet, nor about his illegal animangi form, but she wasn’t dumb. She had seemed to sort out pretty quickly that sometimes the marauders' antics were more dangerous than others.  On other nights when the boys wanted to faff about for a laugh, James was much more susceptible to folding when Lily seduced him into staying in, but on the full moon, there was no convincing him. They could be mid snog and he would pull away to leave, giving her one last meaningful kiss as he went.

“When Remus is back we need to talk to him about telling her,” James said. “I don’t think its going to be a surprise anyhow.”

Sirius and Peter both nodded and went to their respective beds. James sat on the edge of his and looked down at Lily who was still fast asleep. Hair strewn around and hugging a pillow to her body, she sighed softly in her sleep and curled her knees up.

He couldn’t deny it. He loved it when she slept in his bed. Despite knowing that she was there tonight because she was worried he wouldn’t come back or get hurt, it made her confession of love just last week seem more real than ever. If you would have asked him over a year ago, he would have never believed that Lily would have said “I love you” to him, much less crawl her way into his bed to make sure he came home safely. 

He pulled off his clothes and glasses and carefully moved Lily’s arm over to make room. From across the room, Sirius whispered from his bed.

“Oi, Prongs. Be a dear and use a muffaliato charm—-just in case.” He could hear sniggering come from Peter’s bed. 

“Don’t be jealous,” James retorted and shoved his curtains shut.

He laid down and Lily stirred. He wrapped his arm around her and she curled into his body, laying her torso on his side. 

“You’re back,” she whispered into his neck, clearly half-asleep. Her fingers reached up and curled around his lower wisps of hair. 

“I am,” James whispered back. “What a nice surprise to see you here.” She rolled herself until she was practically on top of him. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pushed her head into his chest. Despite being intimate with her many times before tonight, the feel of her body on his still made his heart race. 

“You smell like the forest,” She said as she nuzzled her face into him. “You smell like you have been up to no good.”

He could tell she had woken up a bit more. She put her chin on his chest and looked up at him with a smirk. He could see her eyes in the dark waiting for some sort of explanation. 

“Aren’t I always,” He offered in response and her eyes turned to slits. He prayed she would let that suffice for now. 

Seeing she wasn’t going to get him to crack, she wiggled her body on top of his playfully and pulled one leg to lazily wrap around his waist. 

“Well, glad to see you cheated death again,” she whispered and pulled herself up to kiss him. She deepened the kiss rapidly, nipping at his lip and pushing his mouth open to welcome the softness of her tongue. He groaned into her mouth.

She kissed her way along his jaw and stopped just below his ear to suck lightly at the skin. James hummed and let his hand wander down to her bum. He hadn’t noticed it before, but she had been sleeping in only a night shirt and knickers. He began to wonder how she had made it to the boys’ dorm completely pantsless, but became distracted by the work Lily was making of his neck. She leaned up and gave a nip at his earlobe. 

“Still don’t want to tell me what you were up to?” James shivered. Merlin, she’s trying to torture me. 

She wiggled her bum underneath his hands, making sure to push her pelvis forward into his lower half. Feeling his growing arousal, she looked up at him with a smirk before starting to kiss down his throat and towards his chest. Her hands wandered up and down his torso and arms while he laid there like he had been stunned into submission.

God, you’re so fit. Fuck… She seemed to have said it to herself, but James let out a chuckle. Ever since she had finally admitted that she had been eyeing him all this time on the Quidditch Pitch, he had become completely turned on by how turned on she was of him. 

Lily kept a steady descent downwards, stopping every once in a while to give a small nip at his skin. Once she got to his boxers, she bit at them playfully and looked back up at him with a mischievous smile. He let out a groan. She is actually trying to kill me. 

“Hmmm. If only my boyfriend wouldn’t keep secrets from me.” Her voice sounded heavy and slow. She crouched between his legs; her back arching into a U shape with her bum in the air. Her face hovered around his groin and he could feel her breath going through the cloth of his boxers. His heart pounded. It was taking all of his strength not to take her head in his hands and push her face into him. 

She slid a hand up his thigh then hovered it for a second over him before placing it over his covered erection, curling her fingers around the cloth separating them. James let out a hiss.  

“Merlin, Lils. I want you so bad. Please don’t make me beg.” He was whimpering. Lily let out a giggle, clearly enjoying herself. While she often preferred to be submissive and doted on during their shagging, she loved watching him melt under her whenever she took charge. Who knew Mr. Quidditch Captain could be reduced to nothing so easily.

Giving one last look at his blown-out eyes and his erratic breathing, she gave in. She pulled his boxers down and he lifted himself up to help her slide them off of him. Even in the dark, she could see his naked form begging for her. He propped himself up on one arm and looked down at her. Watching was always his favorite part. 

She slid both hands up his thighs again then circled his arousal. Giving him one last smile she placed a kiss on his tip before opening her mouth and taking him in. His eyes deepend and he let out a raspy moan as she slipped up and down, feeling her way around with her tongue. He took one hand and placed it softly on the back of her head and guided her in a rhythm. 

“Oh Merlin, Fuck,” he hissed. He twisted his fingers into her hair and cautiously used more pressure from his hand to guide her. Her eyes twinkled up at him, watching him moan with his mouth hanging open and eyes following her lips travel. She took one hand and wrapped it around, lightly cupping him. He let out a long hiss and his body leaned forward. 

“Godric, Lils. Your mouth. It's too good. You’re so beautiful.” He continued to rasp out affections as she continued her pattern.

She smiled a bit around him before breaking her rhythm and plunging down, taking him entirely into her mouth. She had only done this once before: during heads’ patrols with him leaning against an empty classroom table and her on her knees. Then, she had taken his hand and placed it on her neck so he could feel exactly how deep he was—-it was all it took to make him finish. 

“Lily, I’m gonna—-“ but right as he said it, she leaned back up on her heels, removing herself from him with a soft pop as she released her lips off his tip. 

She leaned all the way back and propped herself up on her elbows with her legs open to him. Despite the dark, he could see that her knickers were already wet. 

Ever since they had begun properly shagging, he had picked up on her preferences. Before, she would be perfectly happy with him finishing in her mouth or somewhere on her body. But once she felt him finish inside her for the first time, she was sold. It didn’t matter if they were pushed up against a wall in a broom closet or strewn on the floor of the Honeydukes cellar; she wanted to feel him release inside her and only there. 

James breathed sharp jagged breaths. He knew he should have expected it, but it tortured him all the same. She stared up at him expectantly . It was almost like he could hear her say come and get it.

But instead of pulling off her knickers and sliding inside her, he flipped himself to face her on his forearms and without any preamble pushed the scrap of fabric to the side and licked up her center. She dropped her head back and let out a deep moan. He continued to lick his way up and down her, stopping at the top of her clit to suck lightly. It was Lily’s turn to curl her fingers through his hair; bucking her hips up to his mouth as he continued to stroke her with his tongue. 

“Oh James, god. You always feel so good,” she breathed out, barely above a whisper. He dragged his tongue down over her opening and continued behind. She lifted her hips for him to get a better reach and gave her a swift nip on the soft curve of her bum. She let out a choking giggle before guiding his head with her hands back to her center. 

She pushed her head into the mattress, making a soft humming sound. Her mouth hung open and her hair was now splayed off the foot of the bed. James yanked the fabric of her knickers farther away as he made his way back to her clit, leaving light kisses on the inside of her thighs. 

He could feel her body start to shake a bit. Her hips started to move in a circular pattern against his face and he moved his tongue to match her. He knew she would be coming soon. Right when he felt her hand curl tighter into his hair, he pulled back, giving her one last kiss on her pelvic bone before rolling up on top of her to kiss her.

“No fair, I was so close,” She whined into his mouth. She could taste herself on him. She knew how much that turned him on. 

“You did it to me,” he countered. 

“Well then, will you at least shag me?” 

They both simultaneously clawed at her knickers until they slid off her legs and she ripped her sleeping top off, revealing she had nothing underneath. Immediately latching on to her breast with his mouth, he thrusted into her. She let out a small gasp that melted into a moan as he started pumping into her. 

He brought her knees up to his sides and they both watched where he entered her for a while; both of them with their jaws hanging open and making their own hums of desire. 

James placed a hand on one of her breasts and rubbed his thumb and forefinger around the blunt tip, the other hand held both of Lily’s up over her head in a barely bonding position. 

Lily spouted affirmations under her breath with every thrust. 

“Oh James, it feels so good. Please—-harder.” He complied and she let out small shrieks of delight. James placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds—-it wasn’t completely lost on him that they were still in a room full of his mates. 

Lily started to shake again underneath him. Despite wanting to throw her head back, she forced herself to stare deep into his eyes, cheeks flushed and mouth agape. 

“James, I’m going to cum.” She barely gasped out. 

“Keep looking at me, I want to see you,” he growled. He thrust harder. 

She released with a gasp. She clenched at his shoulders and her eyes widened; flooding from her orgasm. 

She fell limp on the bed for a moment, chest heaving and flushed, before picking herself back up and catching James’ mouth with hers. 

James sat back on his heels, out of breath. “Merlin, you are so beautiful. If you are tired we can sto—-,”but Lily cut him off with a kiss. 

“I want to watch you come now,” She whispered and then pushed past him to get to the top of the bed. Positioning her hands on the backboard, she put herself into a tabletop position and looked over her shoulder at him expectantly. 

Fuck. Fuck.

They had only just started doing this position and they both knew it wouldn’t be long for him to come. He turned himself around until he was lined up with her, and swooped down to give her a kiss on her spine before pushing into her again. 

He almost immediately collapsed on her by how good it felt. 

“Oh god. Lily. You are so tight.” Lily chuckled a bit and sat up slightly to reach around and grab his neck. He held her torso up while thrusting into her. She arched her back, pushing her bum into him and giving him a better entryway. 

He didn’t hold back. He thrust hard and fast, feeling his body race towards release. Lily’s whispers got louder as he went deeper, finally reaching a questionable speaking tone.

“I’m so close,” he choked out. 

“Come inside me. I want to feel you cum, Prongs.”

She had never called him that before. He made a loud moan and he released inside of her. Still holding her torso against him, his body twitched around her as she peppered kisses onto his face. No longer able to hold both of them, he collapsed on top of her, both on their stomachs. 

After a moment of heavy breathing, he spoke. 

“You’ve never called me Prongs before.” Lily smiled against the mattress. 

“Thought you would like it,” she said. He placed a few kisses between her shoulders. 

“Like is an understatement.”

______________________________________________

The sun was already up when they had fallen asleep, so it couldn’t have been but a few hours later when Lily started tugging at the back of James’ hair. 

“My love—James—-we have class…” James growled in response and turned farther away.

Lily kissed his shoulder and tugged at his ear. 

“At least make an effort. You are head boy after all.” He groaned and turned over, grabbing her waist and throwing her back on the bed.

“If you stay here we can shag again and then say we had important Heads’ duties to do.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

She laughed and pushed him off of her. “You wish, Potter. Besides, all your mates wouldn’t believe it.”

She reached over the bed and pulled her clothes from off the ground, including the missing pair of pants James had been curious about the night before. She poked her head out of the curtains before throwing them open. 

“Good, they’ve already left. See you at breakfast.” She stuck her tongue out at him before closing the door behind her. 

James threw his head back on the pillow and groaned. 

James sat down next to Lily at the breakfast table with a huff. Sirius and Peter sat across from them looking downright wrecked—-all three boys had dark circles under their eyes and none of them dared to so much as crack a joke for the first 10 minutes. 

Sipping his cup of tea, Sirius finally broke the silence.

“James, I have a question.” James groaned dramatically. 

“I’m too tired for it, Pads.” Sirius continued.

“What is your grade in charms?” James rolled his eyes and took another bite of toast. 

“Dunno—-my last Charms NEWT score was an O…” Sirius put his cup down gingerly on its saucer before leaning back in his seat with his arms folded. 

“Interesting—-then why in the bloody fuck can you not perform a muffaliato charm—-again.” Lily smashed her tea cup onto her saucer and stood up quickly. Her face was bright red. 

“I-I got to go to class,” she said, turning swiftly and striding toward the door. James stared at his mate who, despite feigning a stern attitude, was clearly getting too much enjoyment from embarrassing the couple. 

After a beat, James collected himself.

“I told you not to be jealous.” Despite wanting to play it cool, James was having a hard time looking at his mates. 

Sirius barked out a laugh. 

“And to use your nickname--to get off. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Please don’t bring it up—I just keep hearing her say it over and over again,” Peter squeaked. “Don’t think I can ever call you Prongs again without hearing her say it.”

Sirius patted Peter on the back in consolation. 

“Oh fuck off, mates,” James retorted, but when Sirius began again, Lupin trudged his way up to the group and slumped down at the table. Besides looking a bit peaky, he overall seemed back to his normal self. 

“What did I miss?” He looked around at his mates who all looked like they had spent the night with a dementor.

“We need to tell Lily about you,” Sirius blurted out. Lupin squinted at him. 

“Ok—-I mean, I’m ok with that—as long as we all agree. But why exactly is this coming up so suddenly?” He lit a cigarette and conjured some tea his way. 

James opened his mouth to speak but Sirius put a hand out to stop him. 

“Because James is using the secret as some kinky shag tactic and he’s much too happy to share it with us.”

Lupin didn’t look up from his tea. He took a drag of his cigarette and blew it out before very carefully standing up from the table. 

“I’m going to go back to sleep now in the dorms—away from whatever the fuck you all are up to.” And turned to walk away. 

“Make sure Lily is not there—-or it will happen to you!” Sirius yelled, causing students from other tables to turn. James placed his head into his plate with a groan. So much for having Lily sleepover more often.