Yandere Garou And Metal Bat Crushing On The Same Oblivious Darling (Yandere OPM Headcanons)

Star Wars Masterlist

☔ = Angst

🌦️ = Angst to Fluff

💥 = Crack

☀️ = Fluff

💋 = Smut

🖤 = Yandere

🔔 = Request

🟪Imagines🟪

Anakin Skywalker:

■  Drunk Confession (slight 🌦️)

A very drunk Anakin has some very sober thoughts for you to hear.

Kylo Ren:

■ His Mask (Soulmate AU) 🌦️

After your very first mission for the Resistance goes awry, you can’t help but feel a connection to the Supreme Leader sent to interrogate you. However, when he lets you go after reading the name on your wrist, you can’t help but feel like the mission hadn’t accidentally gone so wrong after all.

■  Who Dunnit 💥 (slight 💋)

Someone left their panties in the control room after what must have been a night of fun and Hux is determined to find out who.

I don’t think your posts are showing up in the tags ): cause when I searched a couple of them from newest your new post wasn’t there

damn that sucks😔 but I also get it. It’s been a while since I posted so I understand why the tumblr algorithm wouldn’t put at the top of the tags no matter how recent I post. I’m just glad at least a few people got to read it and enjoyed it💜 thanks for telling me!!

Lev: YN! YN! I saw a yakt yesterday!

You: A what?

Lev: A yakt!

You: I think you mean-

Kuroo, cackling: Don’t tell him!

Lev: Don’t tell me what? I just saw a yakt. A YAKT!

You & Kuroo: *die laughing*

Lev: WHAT?!

Kenma, playing his game: It’s pronounced ‘yacht,’ dumbass.

Pretending to Moan Another Guy’s Name (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Hehehe, I’m s i c k. Anyways, here’s a rly long headcanon that I’ve been thinking about writing for a while. Some are short and some are long, but hey, that’s life🤷‍♀️ Enjoy! (Side note: been a while since I did a milestone, but hey, this one’s huge--happy 4k y’all💜!!)

Word count: 2705

Oikawa Tooru: 

He’s dead silent, waiting to hear that name fall from your lips one more time just to make sure he wasn’t having a nightmare. 

“Ushiwaka…”

Nope. He wasn’t. He pinched himself five times to prove it. 

Oikawa can’t stand the thought of you dreaming about one of his greatest enemies. His hands curl into fists and his bottom lip gets drawn in by his teeth and, if you hadn’t been so busy trying to fend off your own laughter, you might’ve heard the small whine leaving the back of his throat. 

The bed shifts with Oikawa’s weight leaving it imbalanced and just when you prepare yourself to stop him in his tracks with a giggle, the bedroom door slams hard enough to rattle framed photographs of you and him on the walls. 

Okay… so maybe you had gone too far. 

Stunned into silence, it takes you a couple minutes to recover from your boyfriend’s outburst. When you finally find the strength to breach the cold air of one a.m. goosebumps rise along your skin and you decide to wrap a blanket around your shoulders. 

Lord knows damage control with Oikawa always required a solid chunk of time. 

You find him in the kitchen of the apartment, seated on a stool with his elbows propped on the oak-finished island with two fistfuls of hair and a downcast face. 

Unsurprisingly enough, your prank no longer felt like the genius idea you’d thought it was three hours ago. 

“Tooru?” Your voice is small so as to not disturb him, but his lack of movement makes you think you have almost been too successful in your efforts. 

“Tooru,” you move to lay your hand on his shoulder, “please.” However, the second you make contact he flinches away like you’d burned him. The room is silent once more, but as you keep your hand hovering over his back, you hear a quiet sniffle. 

Oh God, what have I done?

Without another word, you grasp both ends of the blanket and wrap both it and yourself around Oikawa, attaching yourself to his back with a tight enough grip that he can’t shake you off, which, trust me, he certainly tries his best. 

Like a fish out of water, he writhes and thrashes in your hold and in that split second that you think How the hell do I get him to stop this? he’s managed to wriggle himself so hard that the stool and you behind him lose balance, toppling to the floor like a Jenga tower. 

“Oh shit!”

Oikawa, ever so graceful, lands directly on top of you, his lean shoulders crashing hard enough into your chest that you wheeze out the oxygen trapped inside. The stool almost spun and clattered right on top of both of you before Oikawa kicked it away hard enough that it crashed against the metal fridge and slid all the way out into the living room. 

In the dead of night, the noises were loud enough to increase the ringing in your ears that had started when your head slapped against the linoleum floor. Oikawa was still squirming against you but for an entirely different reason now. 

“Fuck--YN, YN! Are you okay?” Still sitting on top of you, another breath gets squeezed out of your chest the second Oikawa rolls over to straddle you. One hand lifts your head, palming frantically at your scalp while the other shoves under your shirt to feel your ribs. 

“Could you,” you choke out, “get off me before I answer that?”

A startled scoff leaves his mouth before he slides off you and onto the floor at your side, helping you sit up while still trailing his eyes up and down your form to search for injury. Not that he could see much--the only light in the apartment was filtering through the kitchen window and came from the quarter moon in the sky. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You bat away his hands but can’t stop your own from trailing up and rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out his cheeks were damp with tears. From the way he sniffled to the way he blinked every .5 seconds, you knew tonight had been a sudden emotional roller coaster for him. 

“Yeah,” he glanced away nodding. “Yep, all good here.” 

“Bullshit.”

Oikawa gave you a scandalized stare and all you could do was sigh before scooting over to him, getting settled criss-cross style before palming both of his cheeks and yanking his face down to yours. 

“I know when you’re lying to me, Tooru, and I know exactly why you’re lying to me right now.”

His first instinct was to roll his eyes and pull away, but you pulled him back harder, hard enough that he flashed his wide eyes to yours in surprise. 

“It was a prank, babe.” Ah yes, the words that turn every boy into goo. 

Oikawa clenched his jaw and wrapped his hands around your wrists. “The “yanking me off my stool so I can crush your ribs” thing or the “I’m gonna moan your enemy’s name so you almost have a heart attack and cry enough tears to flood a river” thing?”

“The “I’m gonna moan your enemy’s name so you-’”

Oikawa slammed his lips against yours, effectively drowning out any of the dumb-ass explanations you had waiting on your tongue. 

“Your pranks are always so mean, baby,” Oikawa mumbles against your lips. “Do you know how much it hurt to think that you were dreaming about being with another man?”

“Did it even matter that it was-”

“No,” he pecks your lips once more before rising to his feet and tugging you to yours. “No, the name didn’t matter at all.”

“Well damn, that’s a shame, because I was stuck between moaning Ushiwaka or Kag-”

“Here’s the thing, sweetheart: I don’t wanna hear another name aside from my own come out of your mouth for the rest of the night. Understood?”

“I-”

“Understood?” You sigh. 

“Yes sir.”

Tsukishima Kei:

Ouch.

One long finger pokes into your cheek, hard.

You’d barely even gotten the first two syllables of the ginger’s name off your tongue before Tsukishima was at the ready, stabbing you in the face with a fingernail you were almost positive you’d seen being filed down just hours ago. 

Bastard must’ve been faking it.

“Don’t say that,” Tsukishima grunts out tiredly, accompanying a yawn with yet another jab. 

Part of you wondered if there was a point to even keeping up the act, but the other part was so pissed you almost wanted Tsukishima to worry that it was real. 

You mumbled the random nonsense of the average person waking from a deep slumber and opened your eyes just to squint at the blond in bed beside you. 

“Wha…?”

In pure darkness, you could barely see Tsukishima narrowing his gaze back at you, half because he was pissed and half because he was lacking his glasses. 

He thrusts a finger right in the middle of your forehead. “Don’t ever moan that name again.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” You fake yawn, closing your eyes before rolling over to have your back face him. 

“I’m not stupid, YN.”

“Are you sure about that, Kei?”

He scoffs. “Fine, then. I’ll play along to this pointless game.”

The mattress quakes as Tsukishima shifts onto his knees, grabbing your hip with a single hand and tugging it hard enough that your back presses flat against the sheets before he throws a leg over your thighs, straddling you with ease. 

“Is this what you wanted?” One hand of his grabs yours, pulling it up above your head. Your breathing is more like gasping at this point as Tsukishima trails his other hand down your side. 

“Were you trying to make me so jealous that I’d do this?”

“Kei…”

“‘Cause, YN, you could’ve just asked.”

At last, your other wrist is trapped and joins the one over your head, Tsukishima’s long fingers easily holding down both of your hands with just one of his. 

“So, do you want to tell me what that shrimp did to you in this “dream” of yours?”

“Kei…” Was it so hard to pull a juicy reaction out of him? You wanted hugs, tears, maybe even a little begging. 

Of course, leave it to Tsukishima to always find a way to be above you. 

Tsukishima can see the fight die in your eyes and his own glow in return. 

“Really,” he hums, “that was all it took?”

“Jackass.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser, YN. Plus, we both know that prank of yours was impractical at best.” He slides off you, returning to his side of the bed and propping himself up on a single elbow to face you. “I’ve heard you moan my name plenty of times in your sleep to know when you’re actually having a wet dream.”

The smirk on his face makes you warm and fuzzy yet angry all at the same time. In retaliation, you jab a finger into his forehead before spinning face away from him once again. “Don’t get too cocky there, Kei. One day I might actually dream about another guy,” you fold your arms, “then what are you gonna do?”

Two arms wind around your stomach before yanking you back into a firm chest, then a single leg creeps between the two of yours. “Please, we both know I’m the only man you even think about.”

Though he sounded so self-assured, the tightness of his grip spoke differently. You reveled in the idea that he was just a bit self-conscious of that fact. Because although you’d never say it to his face...

The smug bastard was always right.

Tendou Satori: 

“Semi,” you moaned.

“Semi,” Tendou mocked. 

“Mmm, don’t stop.”

“Mmm, don’t stop.”

At first, you almost choked on the drool gathering in your mouth the instant you heard Tendou fake-moan along with you. 

Now, it was a contest of how long you could keep a straight face. 

All the lights were on in the room. The blinds were yanked open and the birds chirping out the arrival of morning tweeted from a tree just outside the window. 

You’d woken up when Tendou left to take a shower itching to prank him. At the time, it seemed perfect. 

Now your chest hurt with how much laughter you kept locked inside. The second he stepped out of the bathroom with steam rolling off his body, you decided it was time to put your plan in motion. 

Oh what a mistake it was. 

“More.”

“More.”

Tendou squated right next to your side of the bed, crossed both arms on the mattress just two inches from your face, dropped his chin on top and proceeded to parrot your every word. 

“Harder. More, please Semi.”

“Yeah, harder Semi, you grandpa-haired, shorter-than-me, cries-at-the-Titanic-movie, girlfriend-stealing son of a bitch.”

And just when you sputtered out a breathless laugh, Tendou rose from his crouch and stalked out of the room, towel wrapped over his head and shoulders like a black Sith robe. 

In the kitchen, pots and pans clattered like Tendou was trying to get the attention of the entire city, at one point even walking back and forth in front of the doorway slamming two frying pans against one another. 

“Oh no, I can’t find that spatula!” your boyfriend called out before proceeding to toss out every single appliance in the drawer, allowing them to clang and clash against the wood like they were literally raining from the ceiling. 

What was funny at first was now a major issue for the rest of the apartment complex--it seemed Tendou had gone mad enough that he was risking getting (yet another) noise complaint that would once and for all kick you both out of the building. 

Ever so in a rush, you slid out of the blankets and made haste toward the kitchen down the hall, stopping in the doorway and dropping your jaw at the sight. 

Tendou, maroon eyes flashing with jealousy, held a porcelain plate up over his head with the obvious intent to throw it against the ground and create an even bigger mess. 

Luckily, his eyes darted toward you at the last second. 

“Hey,” he grinned with eyes so wide and hair so frazzled you actually thought he’d gone insane for a split second, “look who’s up!”

“Satori…” you made your way over to him, precarious step by precarious step. Tongs, pizza cutters, and ice cream scoopers littered the floor while all of your pots and pans lay on the countertop in a pile almost up to Tendou’s shoulder, “what the hell is going on?”

His smile faltered for a second before it came back even larger than normal; his eyes, however, stayed darkened. “Just trying to make breakfast! But I couldn’t find that damned griddle we use for pancakes.”

“Probably because we threw it out four months ago.” Uh oh, you’d finally broken him. 

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

The pandemonium in the kitchen was nothing compared to the frantic look in Tendou’s eyes, though. They flitted up and down, up and down along your body, looking for something you were almost positive wasn’t there. 

Then he spoke. 

“So… how did you sleep?”

Tense. Tight. Deep. The question sounded like someone had strangled it out of him, and you didn’t dare glance up from collecting the appliances littered on the floor for fear of seeing the pain in his eyes. 

“Satori… I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” With arms full of disarrayed utensils, you hesitantly looked towards the sink where you aimed to drop them off, only to find Tendou bent over and waiting to meet your eyes. The words had slipped off his tongue right as you finished your sentence. 

“The moaning… like, when I moaned Semi’s name and stuff.” Maintaining eye contact at this point was basically impossible for you and instead you settled for watching your feet as they shifted your weight nervously. “It was just a prank and I didn’t think it would get to you so bad. I’m sorry. Really.”

The atmosphere in the room grew ten times stiffer, almost choking you up--you never thought such a thing was possible with a relaxed guy like Tendou present. 

Evidently, you were wrong. 

“It was all a joke?”

“Yes.”

“Like, it was just a prank?”

“Yes.”

“To see how I’d react and stuff?”

“Yep.”

“Phew,” Tendou pressed a hand against his forehead and let out a laugh. “Almost lost my cool there.”

Your jaw dropped to the floor and you glanced around at the kitchen. Tendou didn’t seem to mind your temporary shock, though, as he guided you over to the sink to dispose of the utensils before wrapping you in a hug. “Don’t ever,” he grumbled, voice suddenly deeper and huskier, “ever do something like that again.” Then he pulled away. “Now,” Tendou grinned, “how’s about we go out for breakfast?”

You stayed frozen in place, eyes flitting from the floor to Tendou’s suddenly normal smile back to the floor again. 

Then you kicked him in the shin. 

“Ow, what the hell was that for?!”

You sputtered out a laugh from deep in your chest that was bordering on maniacal. “Oh-ho no, I am so not cleaning up this mess. That’s your problem, mister.” Then you pressed a small kiss to his cheek. “I will, however, go pick us up some breakfast and bring it back here though.”

Then you yanked him into a hug and forced his ear to your lips, lowering your tone deeply and darkly. “And this place better be spotless when I come back.” You pulled back with a smile before skipping to the front door and Tendou could only watch with a gleaming grin on his face. 

God, he loved you.

“You better not be going to see Semi while you’re out!” He received the bird in return.

“Love you too, babe!”

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

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

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

*GIF not mine*

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

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

Word count: 3345

Keep reading

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

*GIFs not mine*

Ushijima and Oikawa Version

Sugawara and Kuroo Version

Bokuto, Kageyama, and Kenma Version

A/N: pfft so somebody requested this for hinata like t w o y e a r s ago… hehe. ANyways, love me some yandere haikyuu boys. Kinda loving tendou’s, so I hope y’all like it. Enjoy!

Word count: 2953

Tendou Satori:

“Darling, surely we’re not doing this now?”

“You know, I don’t think I like this game, YN. I suggest you end this before you cross a line you can’t come back from.”

You gulped but continued the search, digging through drawers and cupboards to find anything resembling a key. Tendou’s voice drawled from where you’d trapped him in the bathroom. 

“Taking advantage of a man while he’s got his pants down—not cool, YN.”

You try to ignore him, try to stay focused on what you’re doing, but it’s so hard. 

So hard when all he’s doing is heckling you in that damned tone of his.

Like you were a little kid playing an adult’s game. 

That’s how he’d always been though, ever since he first kidnapped you. He treated you like you didn’t know how to handle yourself in the real world. He acted like you needed him to watch your every move and teach you how to conduct yourself. 

That’s how your relationship had been before, when you were just a regular couple, but it was when you took notice of his gaslighting and tried to break up with him that he’d taken you. 

No, YN, you can’t keep getting distracted. Stay focused. 

Glancing back over at the front door to the apartment, you counted the locks once more. Three double-sided deadbolts, two padlocked latches. Somewhere inside the apartment were five keys Tendou never dared to leave without. You just had to find them. 

“I’m getting bored in here, could you at least slip me a deck of cards or something? Otherwise I might lose my mind.” The teasing lilt hinted at the smirk on his face. No doubt he was utterly, completely calm. He always was when it came to you, because he thought he knew you like the back of his hand. 

“Shut up in there, Satori!”

He snickered. “Well that was uncalled for.”

Like always, he knew how to get under your skin. Goosebumps rose on your skin, and you tried to shake off his taunts, dragging a hand through your hair with a deep breath. 

He can’t win. I won’t let him. He’s not getting away with this.

“How about a snack at least, darling, pretty please? The toothpaste is starting to look appetizing.”

Nothing, absolutely nothing. You couldn’t find keys in the living room or the kitchen, so you resorted to investigating the bedroom. 

When Tendou heard you approaching, he began to hum playfully. It was that song, the one he’d murmur while running his fingers along your skin, while tugging you in close after coming home from work. He’d whisper it into your hair at night, or you’d hear him singing it in the shower while you were still in bed. 

“You are my sunshine,”

You slammed open the door into the bedroom, trying to block out the voice that rang out from the door right across from you. 

“My only sunshine,”

Clenching your jaw, you began digging through the dresser, pushing aside clothes and feeling along the undersides of the drawers. 

“You make me happy,”

With a huff, you gave up, moving on to Tendou’s nightstand. At the sounds of your struggles, his voice seemed to get louder, grow clearer. 

“When skies are gray,”

Handcuffs and their keys, but none of which would fit the locks. You remembered when he’d first used them on you, the first night he kidnapped you. He was afraid you would do something “stupid” like try to attack him and hurt yourself in the process, so he’d shackled you to his headboard for your own personal wellbeing. 

“You’ll never know dear,”

You slammed the drawer shut at the sight of them and moved to feel under the mattress, trying to ignore all the crumbs and dust that gathered under your fingernails amidst the attempt. Tendou, meanwhile, just kept growing louder.

“How much I love you,”

Then you felt it. Metal. A whole ring of it, too. Five keys jingled together when you yanked them out from under the bed, almost falling onto your back from your overzealous force. You almost teared up at the sight of them.

I’m getting out of here. I can see my family again.

Maybe your life would never return to normal, not after what Tendou had done, but you could certainly try. You missed humanity. You missed the outside world. How long had it been since you’d seen green grass or felt the warmth of the sun on your face? How long had it been since you’d felt rain dampen your hair or traced your eyes along the stars in the sky?

Too long. Far too long. At some point, you’d given up keeping track, but not anymore. 

“Please don’t take my,”

You pulled yourself to your feet, misty eyes still stuck in wonder upon the ring of keys in your hand. 

“Sunshine away.”

Turning toward the door, you felt the keys slip from your fingers, cluttering loudly when they hit the floor. 

Tendou stood in the doorway, his head tilted to the side. A single red brow raised, his eyes wide with slitted, shrunken irises. He towered where he stood, spiky red hair close to brushing the top of the door. Long arms extended out and gripped the edges of the doorway, nimble fingers tightening around the wood. 

 A small smirk peeled back his lips.

“Well,” his eyes slipped down to the keys on the floor before gliding back up to your face, “nobody can fault you for trying.” 

Mouth open in shock, your whole body began to tremble. A drop of cold sweat slid down your back. 

His hands loosened from around the doorway, dilated pupils still latched on your form as he made his way toward you. When he stopped, he bent low, his breath brushing the stray hairs along your face as he snagged the keys from the ground with a tut-tut of his tongue. 

His other hand swept up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to close your mouth with a warning tap to your lip. 

“Guess I’ll have to find a new hiding spot, now, won’t I? Though, this certainly was the most fun we’ve had in a while, darling.”

You didn’t even flinch when his lips ran along yours. “Who knows?” he shrugged, pulling away. He tapped your nose with his finger before intertwining your hand with his, leading you from the room. “Perhaps, if you ever try this again, I could turn it into a scavenger hunt. Give you clues and such from wherever you try to trap me next.” He snickered. “Now wouldn’t that be fun?”

You didn’t respond, face turned toward the keys he’d tossed behind carelessly onto the bed. It was like he wasn’t worried you would make an attempt toward them. Like he wasn’t worried you’d ever get the chance. 

“Of course, like then, you’d be punished afterwards for trying, but isn’t that part of the game?”

“Punished?” you stuttered, taking the seat in the barstool he encouraged you into before releasing your hand, moving to the other side of the kitchen island to scour the fridge. 

He stopped his search, pulling out a carton of eggs and eyeballing the date. “Well surely you didn’t think you could try to leave me without there being consequences.” He didn’t even spare you a glance as you blanched. “But don’t worry, that fun will come later.”

Then he set the carton of eggs on the counter in front of you with an all-too pleasant grin on his face. “Now, how’s about eggs for breakfast, sunshine?”

Hinata Shouyou:

It’s when he’s approaching to kiss you that you are able to lock him up. 

It’s the first time he’s ever done such a thing; though he’s the one who’s kidnapped you, you are the one who dictates how far he can go before you pull away. 

Of course, he’d been disappointed the first few weeks when you didn’t want him to touch you or even see you at all. 

But after a particularly bad day, when he’d come home crying and bawling and tugging you into his arms, curling around you, you’d been given a little less leeway on just how much you could pull back from him. 

It seems, though he’d been addicted to you in general before, he was now addicted to your touch specifically. 

“YN, please! Why are you doing this?!”

He’d come home that night in a bad mood, and for some reason you were sure he’d talk your ear off about while hugging you on top of him on the sofa later. But right now?

…Right now, he had a different idea. 

“I’m tired of waiting, YN,” he’d whined as he approached, though there was a dark glint in his eyes. For every step he took toward you, you took one back. Step, step, step, step. He just kept following you. 

You hadn’t realized he’d cornered you in his bedroom until you felt the backs of your knees hit the mattress. 

“YN,” he hummed, rough hands cupping your cheeks as a strand of red hair fell over his eyes. “Can I just have a little?” His gaze fell on your lips. “Just a taste? I promise I won’t take any more.”

“Just a little.”

A flicker of pink as a smirk grew on his face.

I don’t want this. I swear I don’t want this. 

No! I don’t want it!

His face was so close you could feel the heat of his gasp mingling with yours the second your knee flew up to meet his groin. 

“AGHH!” he screeched, tugging himself away. Hinata dropped to his knees, hands cupping his crotch as he let out small, pained whimpers. 

That was when you ran out of the room, dodging his grasping hands and slamming the door behind you. You grabbed the first thing you could think of to shove in front of it. 

“YN-”

In a matter of seconds he was up and at attention, slamming the door against the sofa as you pushed it in front of the doorway. The hefty furniture effectively crammed itself in the small hallway of its apartment and limited the angle he could open the door to just a sliver. 

“YN! Please, don’t do this! Please!”

“Just let me out, we can talk about this!”

“I know you’re unhappy, but don’t you see I’ve been working so hard to change that? Please, just let me out!”

A single brown eye peered at you through the sliver of the door, pupil dilated and lid unblinking.

“I thought I was giving you enough, YN. What do you want? Do you want a puppy? My neighbor has the cutest dog, YN, I promise. You’d love it,” he pleaded, faux excitement tainting his voice. 

The single eye followed your every move as you paced around the apartment, mumbling to yourself about what to do, how to get out. “I could get your favorite food! It’s just down the street, I know you’ve wanted it. I was planning to get it tomorrow to celebrate our two-hundred day anniversary, but I can get it now if you like! Call it our one-hundred and ninety-ninth day anniversary! It could be our thing!”

“Please, YN, it could be our thing. Remember how we used to have things?”

You tried to ignore him. You really did. As you dug frantically through his cabinets and shelves, his desk drawers and bathroom cupboards, you considered shoving a couple cotton balls in your ears just to block out his nervous exclamations. 

The thought did cross your mind, but only for a second. Soon enough, the blood pounding in your ears was doing the job. Your mind fogged as you searched, struggling to believe that you had a chance to escape. 

Is this real? It was this easy all along? That was all I had to do?

Hinata’s cries weren’t helping your nerves any. Instead, you felt your shoulders grow more tense each time you heard his desperate, breathy voice. You felt like curling in on yourself and giving up. 

It can’t be this easy. What the hell is going on?

You glance back at the door, staring at the lock that lined it. You’d consider breaking a window, but you knew the apartment was on the fifth floor of the complex; jumping from that height would be a death sentence. 

You hadn’t completely lost your will yet. 

No, no. You just needed to find the keys. The door on the outside appeared normal, wooden. On the inside, though, Hinata had gone through the trouble of layering it with a few sheets of metal. One could kick the door in, but could not kick it out. 

The keys. 

Where the fuck are they?

“YN, I love you. So, so much. I just wanna see you, please! Let me see you at least.”

He pounded against the door with his fists, tremoring the door and the sofa, but not moving it. Tears pricked your eyes at the sound; you were so close, so goddamn close. You weren’t sure how Hinata was going to react after this if you didn’t escape, and you didn’t want to find out. 

“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath, eyes darting around the living room as your hands yanked at your scalp. “Fuck!”

“YN, please.” His was quiet, more forlorn than you were ever used to. “I don’t want you to leave me. I get so lonely without you.”

“Lonely, huh?” The words crawl up your throat before you can stop them. “You think you’re lonely?” A headache forms at your temples, but you ignore it as you storm toward his room. “You don’t know true loneliness until you’ve been trapped inside your crazy ex-boyfriend’s apartment, no friends, no family, for days on end.”

“You think you’re lonely, Shouyou? Try putting yourself in my shoes.” Frustration has formed a weight in the pit of your stomach. You feel glued to the floor waiting for his response, almost… almost, you supposed, hoping for an apology of some sorts. 

You loved him at some point in your life, and, no matter how insane he looked and sounded when he said it, he loved you too. You just wanted to know if he felt even an ounce of pity for what he had been putting you through. 

“Shouyou, I just-”

“You’re lonely, YN?”

You pause, voice caught in your throat. Hinata’s tone is tainted with nothing but genuine curiosity. Somehow, though, you feel like you’ve messed up. 

“I-...um-”

“Are you lonely without me?”

Shit. 

“YN.” You catch his eye in between the small opening of the doorway. His gaze is intense, suddenly focused and attuned to his surroundings. “Say it again.”

“Say you get lonely when I leave you at home. Say you miss me when I leave for games and practices.” There’s a creaking sound of sorts, but you can’t quite tell where it originates from. 

“Please, I wanna hear it again. Say you want me around all the time, that you need me close by so you don’t feel lonely anymore. Say it.” Breathy, yet goading. 

Shame and anger raise a heat to your cheeks, and you’re flustered that Hinata has misconstrued your words in such a way. You didn’t want him. No, you didn’t. What you wanted was to not be locked away and deprived of human contact like you were.

That was all. 

Creak. “You’re so cute when you blush. But don’t worry, YN, I won’t tease you. I’m just so glad that you’re finally being honest. Lonely without me? God, YN, I’m so in love with you.”

Creak. “I’ll never make you lonely again. I’ll make sure of it.”

Crack. 

Adrenaline in the heat of the moment allows people to do amazing things. You’ve heard stories of mothers lifting cars, people bending metal or jumping from buildings. Doing things that should be impossible. 

You supposed that was why it was so easy for Hinata in that moment, all riled up by your words and your actions in such a short amount of time, to crack the door in half. The one hinge the upper-half was still attached to allowed it to fly open, barely catching its splintered wood on the back of the sofa. 

One second, you watched in horror as the half-door slammed against the wall, rattling the hanged picture frames. 

The next, you saw a flash of orange before your back slammed against the wood flooring. A throbbing pain shot up your spin and down to your tailbone, but something sturdy and soft cradled the back of your head so your skull didn’t suffer the same fate. A weight, not necessarily overpowering, left you cemented to the floor, legs out flat as your arms lay limp at your sides, numb with shock. 

Hinata sat above you, on his knees and straddling your thighs. One hand, as you figured, was behind your head, lifting it so you could face him. The other, though, hovered over your face, trembling. 

A look of wonder was painted on his face as he watched you. And if you looked closer, you could have seen a hint of adoration. 

“YN,” he whispered, his hand finding home cradling your cheek. “I mean it.”

“I’ll never make you feel lonely again.”

And then he kissed you, desperately. 

And you hated yourself, despairingly. 

Because, deep down, you felt some vile, repulsive hope that he was telling you the truth.

You Accidentally Confess Over Text (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Bokuto and Akaashi Version)

A/N: I AM ALIVEEEE✨✨yalllll it’s been a fat minute, how’ve u been?? How’s school and all that Jazz? Mine is a goddamn nightmare, and its like even with the hybrid, I’m gettin claustrophobic🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ anyways, I had the day off and about five minutes to myself, so here’s a lil thing to “check in” I guess. Thanks for 2.1k guys, and enjoy!

Hiya can you do Tsukishima crushing on Sugawara younger sister who is in the same year and class as him and Sugawara is super protective of his younger sister? ❤❤❤❤❤ five hearts for the best rating of an awesome writer

This is like three years old but I'm trying to clean out my inbox and I came up with ideas for this years ago so here they are:

“Awww, you loveeee me,” yn coos. 

“No,” he rolls his eyes and turns away, “I don’t.”

“Tsukki fell in love with meeee,” she sang, rocking from side to side with a teasing grin. 

I feel like Suga is mostly resistant to letting Tsukishima date his sister bc he knows how mean and rash Tsukki can be. 

Tsukishima one time just walks up behind yn and drops his forehead onto her shoulder. A muffled groan escapes from him while she pats his cheek and snorts. “Why is everyone so stupid?”

In the distance, Sugawara sees this and malfunctions. This is the first time he’s seen them together. 

For the first time in tsukishima’s life, he actually wanted human contact. He wanted to hold someone, maybe their hand. Or hug someone, even for just a second. He wanted to run his hands down their sides and brush the stray hairs from their face.

It was you. That “someone” was you.

yn sugawara. 

(I’m the anon who requested a part 2 of the Michael grey fic) I have some ideas :) if Michael grey is in the process of healing but still isn’t strong enough, what if his darling began missing home more than she loved him, and tried to escape to go home? Or maybe it could be when he’s healing he becomes very clingy and his darling is there for him to cling to? Have a good day/night!

Lost and Found (Yandere Michael Gray x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Michael is weak and desperate for you after being bedridden with his gunshot wounds in the hospital, but after weeks of caring for him, you know your feelings for your former kidnapper have grown into something you don’t dare confess. One night, when you almost let your feelings slip, you decide to flee. Michael won’t let you go so easily.

Part 1

A/N: not exactly what was requested, but it was an idea I had rattling around in the ol' hat rack for a while. Can be read as a standalone, but it is part 2 of "Gray Chains," so either way ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ enjoy!

Word count: 2664

You can see him approaching you now. Through the crowds of swaying people, of hazy smoke and jazz hanging in the air of the dark, gilded nightclub, dressed in a tuxedo of white with a red bowtie at his throat. 

There’s a hungry look in his gaze, but that’s only because he’s been starved of you for hours. Five weeks of sitting in that hospital room with him, catering to his every need, his every desire. All because you’d accidentally fallen for the man that had left you tied to his bed for days on end.

In that white, suffocating room full of antiseptic and nurses filtering in and out, you’d sat there one night in a chair, pulled up next to his bed. Your bottom was numb and hot from the sheer number of times you’d been in that same position by his side.

His hand had been curled around yours, and according to the dimmed lights around the room and the darkness creeping in from the window, it was around ten or so at night. On his hospital bed, he lay flat on his back, still wrapped in surgical tape and stitches. The blue patches of skin under and around his eyes had begun to fade paler, almost matching the yellowed, stitched skin on his chest. His eyes drooped, the gunmetal blue in them tainted with exhaustion.

Still, somehow though, he found it in himself to smile at you, pulling your hand up to his lips with a doting sigh and peppering kisses along the back of your hand. His hair fell into his eyes during the act, and you brushed it back from his forehead into alignment with the other, freshly dampened strands. 

He paused his ministrations. Pressing his lips one final time against your knuckles, his gaze found yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his breath warm on your skin. 

He said it every night. He said it every morning too, and at least twice during each midday. 

You’d never said it back. You never felt the need to; to you, he was just supposed to be the kidnapper you’d found yourself forced to take care of. You’ve had the deplorable feelings and thoughts that came with you being around his loving self every day, but you’d never dared to give in to the words. 

Now, you’d felt them ghosting your lips. You’d felt your resolve break, and you’d actually told yourself there was no harm in returning the sentiment. He had won you over.

A panic struck your chest at your realization, and you fumbled back into your chair, mind frantic. 

Michael was completely unaware. Like usual, his brows twitched and furrowed at your lack of response, and he released your hand, settling himself carefully underneath the blanket and watching as you did the same in the chair beside him. Dutifully, he waited until your eyes fell closed and your breath steadied before giving into his own exhaustion. 

“Goodnight, love.”

And when his soft snores began to fill the room, you fled. With a pocketful of the stack of cash Tommy had delivered earlier to pay for Michael’s hospital bills, you walked, carefully blank-faced, through the quiet, marble halls and out the door before hailing a cab to London.

Eden Club. 

The pub the cab driver had recommended to you after the look on your face and your voiced need for a drink. You’d nodded absentmindedly, and now you found yourself in the heart of the thumping room, chandeliers twinkling on the ceiling and gold laced throughout the alabaster floor. At one of the few tables surrounding the group of dancers, you sipped on a red wine, the strong, thick flavor intoxicating your senses until you couldn’t understand why you were in the pub at all. 

But you knew it was Michael. It had to be. Who else would approach you in this pandemonium of sweaty, inebriated bodies? Saxophones wailed as a singer of sorts crooned into his microphone so many feet behind you, and you flinched as someone bumped into the back of your chair while making their way to the party floor. 

No, it wasn’t Michael, you realized now. The waiter in the all-white suit approached you now, a sommelier, in all actuality. The wine cloth over his arm was stained from many former visits, and you realize now that the bottle in his hand is of the same kind as the drink in your glass. 

The sommelier catches your eye, and before he can open his mouth to offer another glass, you shake your head, waving away the bottle. 

Not Michael. 

You watch as he nods, approaching the other tables around you in turn, the same offer filling their ears. 

No, you think to yourself, cupping your wine glass with both hands and losing yourself deeper in the crimson liquid. No more tonight. Your hands tighten, the one around the stem feeling so close to cracking the glass. 

A breath, not quite relieving after the fright you’d just had, escapes you. You’re not quite sure how long it’s been since you’d left, but it must be somewhere close to two a.m. by now. Michael will have awakened at least once or twice in the span of time you’d left, and certainly now he’s asking around about your whereabouts--presumably impolitely. 

Presumably with threats and torture, if his cousins had received a call. 

You try to care about the people who may have been hurt in your wake, but the fog that’s come to muddle your mind is making sympathy difficult. The rich, sweet taste is still on your tongue, and you wonder vaguely if your mouth is stained red at all.

Jewelry clutters and chimes on the dance floor, women’s bracelets and earrings and even men’s stopwatches jingling around the room. Some men, few and far between in the effervescent club, idle about with their canes, abrupt claps of solid wood against marble floor interrupting the beat of the song.

Behind you, that same clinking piques your ear in a steady rhythm, the pace surprisingly uninterrupted by the large number of people bumbling about. Though you haven’t seen the waiter with the cane before, his presence is uncomfortably close behind your back now. His hand reaches around, grasping the pair of yours in his own before his wine bottle comes into view. 

“No--sorry,” you stutter, watching a bit flustered as the glass fills substantially, “I told the other waiter I don’t need any more.”

“Believe me, love, you’ll need another drink.”

You snap your mouth shut, eyes locked on the glass as Michael keeps pouring until the wine is level with the rim. He slams the bottle onto the table, trembling the surface so hard liquid sloshes out and onto the tan tablecloth. 

He comes into view from behind you, and you draw a line from the clinking to the cane in his hand. You suppose you should have figured. Prior to leaving, one of the doctors seeing Michael had decided that he would soon be ready to walk, though with aid.

He sets the cane’s handle against the table before settling into the seat across from you. The lines in his forehead are angry and deep, especially in the dim lighting of the pub. Out of the pocket of his black overcoat, he pulls a pack of cigarettes, not bothering to offer one to you as he lights it with a match and adjusts himself. His mouth twists into a frown, and he hisses under his breath in pain. 

One cloud of smoke floats from his mouth through his nostrils and then escapes in one long stream. Then he draws his eyes up, and the second his gaze locks on yours, you know you can’t run any longer. 

You swallow. His eyes follow the movement, and when a flush crawls up onto your face, he inhales again. 

“You found me.”

“I did.”

You fall silent, and an air of sobriety seems to clean out the fog in your mind. You can feel it now, the pounding heartbeat in your ears down through your fingertips. Despite the implications of his presence, you can’t help the comfort that buzzes underneath your skin. 

Michael found you like he always did. 

That was supposed to be a bad thing. 

“Didn’t take you long.”

“You didn’t cover your tracks well.” He exhaled, two streams of smoke filling the air as he watched you. “The second you were mine, you were a Peaky Blinder. You left as a Peaky Blinder, so all eyes were on you.” His jaw tightened. “Perhaps you should have thought your escape through better.”

You pause, lips screwing shut as you traced with the rim of your wine glass. The room seems to have grown hotter, and for a second you feel like your breathing is far too audible. Underneath the table, a pressure against your knee causes you to flinch.

Michael crosses one knee over the other, a brow raised as his eyes bore into you. His stare crawls over your skin, claiming your face, your bare collar bones, down to the arms and then the fingers you can’t seem to keep steady. He’s unimpressed on the surface, especially with your performance tonight. Beneath all of that, though, you know he has some plan formulating in his mind. Perhaps it’s already in motion.

The look in his eyes is calculating, critical. As always, you feel as though he controls your next move. He was always so good at predicting you. That was how he got you in the first place. 

He takes another drag and taps the ashes out in the tray set on the table, waiting expectantly.

“It wasn’t planned,” you look away when Michael scoffs, “if that… makes you feel any better.”

“Do you think it does?” he jeered, leaning back into his seat with a curled lip.

You shook your head. “You don’t even know why I left.”

“I have a few guesses, love, but please, enlighten me.”

“Do you remember what happened? Before I left?”

“Only the usual things.” He huffed. “You fell asleep, or at least pretended to, and when I did, you bolted.”

“Before that.”

His jaw twitched, and he dropped his crossed leg to the ground, leaning forward and smothering his cigarette out with a slam of his hand, every movement quick and violent. “When I told you I fucking loved you, was that it? Was that why you did it?” He reached out and tore the glass from your grasp, throwing it against the floor. “You think I’m some fucking monster for loving you, for wanting you for myself.” His eyes flashed with rage, and with his teeth bared, he spat, “You left because I love you.” 

“I left because I love you,” you hissed.

Michael’s eyes widened just as yours did. His lips fell open, and all anger on his face softened and disappeared. 

“W-what?” he whispered breathlessly.

While a breath caught in your throat, you felt a tightness in your chest fade away. The fog that seemed to swim around inside your head for the last hour had finally dissipated, and you could clearly feel the regret clawing at your heart while battling another emotion. 

“It’s not right—it’s wrong. So fucking wrong.” Tears begin to prick at your eyes, and you try to fight them away with the pressure of your palms. 

“That’s why you left.” Michael sounded in a daze. “Because you love me.”

You stayed silent, battling a headache as the tears finally fell. It was hard to breathe, but at the same time it was as though you’d caught the first breath of fresh air in weeks. 

Fingertips grazed your wrists, peeled your hands from your eyes. 

“You really love me?” he asked quietly, almost desperately. 

You fell back into an old habit, the words I hate you grazing your lips, but even the thought of letting them fly pained you as much as you knew they would hurt him. 

God, you didn’t even want to hurt him. You loved him. 

“This is so fucking wrong,” you muttered again, a sob almost following. 

All it took was a smile on that fateful day. 

You saw the cute boy—man—on the street, the one whose eyes were watching you with fascination, and you’d smiled back.

The next time you saw him, he was breaking the glass of your bedroom window, fumbling to get inside and barely snagging your ankle when you’d tried to flee. 

It’s all so wrong.

Until recently, you could still feel it, that chain around your wrist, like a phantom that haunted you every other day you’d fallen asleep in the chair at his hospital bedside. The one he used to keep you in his bed, his home, the one that stopped you from fleeing and made it so that all you’d known for months was Michael and his overbearing, delusional love for you.

You couldn’t even feel that anymore. He’d finally gotten through. He won. 

So, so wrong.

Michael caressed the skin of your wrists, pulling your hands closer and littering kisses along your palms. “Love, you’re perfect, do you know that?” His lips ran along your fingertips. “Just perfect,” he hummed.

He rose to his feet, releasing one of your hands to grab his cane before rounding the table toward you. Beneath his shoes, broken glass crackled.

Using the hand in his grip, he lifted you to your feet. 

“Let’s get out of here, love. Come on,” he released you and instead placed a hand on the small of your back. “I have a cab waiting outside. Let’s get home.”

Michael ushered you past the swaying, sweaty crowd, out from underneath the smoke that hung in the air of the club, and into the clean, cold atmosphere of the outside. You barely registered the nodding of the club bouncers at Michael, nor the familiarity of your cab driver’s face as he led you into the back seat, his long coat draped over your bare shoulders. 

On the way back to Birmingham, Michael never stopped touching you. Either his hand held yours, or his arm was wrapped around your waist or shoulders. One of his knees always pressed against one of yours, and when you dropped your head onto his shoulder, his head leaned atop yours. 

When exhaustion began to nip at your fluttering eyelids and softened your mind, you lifted your head to look at Michael. He stared back, blue eyes wandering adoringly over your face. “What’s wrong, love?”

You bit your tongue, wanting to restrain the gentle pulsing in your chest in some way, but you couldn’t help it. You can’t stop how it slowly overtakes your senses, especially when Michael raises a hand to cradle your cheek, thumb caressing your bottom lip. 

“I love you.”

His hand begins to tremble against your skin, and his lips twitch into a smile as pure reverence floods his vision. “I love you too,” he breathes.

And when he rushes forward to press his lips to yours, you wrap your arms around him openly, hold him lovingly. He accepts everything you give him, every whine, moan, and whimper, and in return he worships your body with his hands, petting and stroking and clutching onto you with every fiber of his being. 

“I won’t let you go again,” he murmurs against your lips, and his arms tighten around you. “I can’t lose you anymore.”

“It’s okay,” you cup his face, pulling him impossibly closer. “You found me.”

I just cached up with the one punch manga and ahhhhhh spoiler alert I can't get enough of garou I feel like they made him purposefully more and more hotter each chapter and his teamwork x rivalry with metal bat ahhhhh and so my brain rot for the two them just won't stop so I'm here to request more of that yandere metal bat and garou x reader please 🙏🙏😭😩❤️✋

Ayo any fics with that pairing being yandere is honestly such a gold mine istg. absolutely love the dynamic between those two and how they both have soft spots for children.

no ideas for a full hc of that, but now I can only think my next logical step for this group would be babies??? On God, can you imagine how protective they would be if you were pregnant with one of theirs? they would literally orbit around you whenever you left the house.

plus garou's totally the one that would like stick headphones on your stomach and then try and talk through a connected microphone to the baby. not even like reading children's books or anything but literally ranting about his day and how annoying heroes can be.

metal bat's in the other room like "i shoulda killed this mf when i had the chance" but he's got his own dibs on feeling your stomach for kicks first.

Oh Jesus this one just came to me but can you imagine the staring contest that would happen when you're giving birth and you're squeezing both of their hands so hard and they're just combatting to see which one will pussy out and cry from the pain first. legendary.

no cap but when both garou and metal bat are trying to learn how to wrap a diaper they would like squat in the corner of the house hovering menacingly over like a freshly unswaddled watermelon. then they're just mystified on what to do first bc they both wanna act like they know what they're doing but they're not gonna swoop in until the other one tries it. So they're both just squatting there staring at a watermelon half in a diaper, grumbling creepily to themselves about what to do first.

Eventually (of course) Uncle Tareo and Auntie Zenko are invited over to see the baby. cue entirely unnecessary christmas-card photos in February.