#because i always wanted to bring one in cause i think it'd be good for them and i'd already hypothesized some plot relevance

[blankticket]

Even with his face turned away from Vash, hands visibly tense as he draws his knees closer to himself. Shoulders square in, tense, shake, go still. There's only so much he can do to hide the hurt.

" … You still wanna call yourself the worst now?"

A half-beat of consideration. Then the hooded figure's shoulders shake again, head lifting up, but it's more of an impression of laughter than anything.

"Sure. Gotta be, if I'm bringing all of this outta you." It's the same principle as always: whatever pain he was feeling must be negligible compared to what his predecessor had obviously endured for decades on end, alone. And despite all the lecturing from just now, his own pain still felt unimportant. If anything, all that ire justified the thought. It's this line of thinking that prompts the predictable brick wall into continuing, anyway:

"The point of talkin' about it with me earlier than this isn't about how I would've felt about it, whatever I'd have to say about it. Of course I'm not entitled to that."

The point was that Legato Bluesummers would have been important to anticipate, should he arrive to Spirale. The point was that he wanted to be there for Vash, because he cared about how he felt. He didn't want to leave him alone in that suffering; not when it's his responsibility to understand him. But maybe—oh—maybe the other guy really never felt that way. Never needed him for any of it.

A mitten clumsily comes up to the opening of the hood, only to fall back into hugging at his knees instead. "And no, I didn't think you'd have all the answers. I just thought you'd wanna…"

Want to find them together? So what, the other Vash wouldn't feel alone? So that they could fool themselves into thinking they were doing others right, "protecting" them from problems caused by them to begin with?

Why would he want to do that, with someone who's so eager to die, someone who clearly doesn't know what he's talking about?

The younger Plant lapses into a silent trance then, quietly letting all the accusations soak in deeper. It'd do them both good for him to quit talking and pick himself apart for once, and to quit from putting any more words in the older Vash's mouth. Maybe it'd encourage the other guy to lay into him some more, while he was at it.

What the hell was he thinking, pretending to do all of this for Vash's sake, for everyone's sake? He hasn't helped one bit; worse than doing nothing, he's evidently only reopened old wounds and wasted time. Chosen to be dishonest around everyone he'd promised to keep true to. He's forced Vash to relive memories he wasn't ready to handle, feel things he wasn't ready to share; been unfair to him, over and over again. How could anyone look at what he's done now, and stay fooled into thinking it was to protect anyone?

God—how stupid could he get? No wonder Vash hated him this much.

He was right to air out every bit of criticism now, to look at the wrong Vash's insistence of humility and vulnerability, and see it for what it really is: childish embarrassment in getting caught for all his incompetence, trying to do things nobody asked him to do, and not even getting that right. Vash would've been better off if this worthless edition of himself had just…

"I'm sorry." It's said softly, but even then, he feels disgusted at the way he has to steal the other's voice to say it. "I should've known. I'm sorry for hurting you this bad."

★ --;; "Talk like what?"

It comes out bitter, mean. An angry old dog protecting the wound in its side. "Like I don't have all the answers?" He still sounds just as tired and wrung out as he feels, as though the nervous energy had all at once seeped through the soles of his feet down into the freezing pavement. All that's been left in its wake is the simmering pain that's been there for years, the anger that lies draped across it. " 'Cause I don't know how or when you got that in your head, but I've never had them."

Even without the denial of space, Vash wouldn't have gone to sit back down. There's a wall there, now; maybe one that had always been there. Had definitely always been there in some capacity, its corporeality shifting in and out of existence. Playing pretend that it hadn't helped either of them.

"And now you're here puttin' words in my mouth 'cause it's what you wanna hear again. That's never what I meant!" The more he talks the more that misplaced resentment and shame sits hot at the back of his neck, behind his ears, burns in his chest. At come point his fists had clenched at his sides.

"I'm mad 'cause you keep doin' stupid shit on my behalf and brushin' it off, 'cause god forbid I try and care about your wellbeing! You told me you don't wanna die, but you sure as hell don't know how ta' show it!"

"And then every time I try an' get it through your head it's either like talkin' to a brick wall or you gettin' mad at me for tryin' ta' help you in the first place! Mad at me for not carin' and then mad at me when I do! And I know I messed up by not talkin' about it! I know!"

The words coming out his mouth, the accusations being thrown— they don't make Vash feel any better. All they do is make that horrible feeling churning through him feel that much worse. But it's like a dam's burst open, the flow impossible to stop.

"No, I didn't want you to resent me for not talkin' about it— but even if I had, what would you have said? That I shouldn't have done it? I *know* that! I live with that every day! But he wouldn't listen, I couldn't just let him go and kill Liv after Nick had just—"

The words catch in his throat. At some point his entire body had tensed back up, muscles held in place so tightly even though the one who had made them that way wasn't physically there to keep then locked and frozen. It takes a good few moments of silence, steam rising up from heavy breaths, before his jaw and throat finally loosen enough to start croaking again.

" ... You still wanna call yourself the worst now?" he asks quietly. " 'Cause I'm tired of pretendin' to go along with it."

[pastafossa]

The Matt as a father made my heart brr.

It does make me wonder what Jane and Matt would want in their future? Whether it’s just a cat, bird, or a bunch of turtles from a sewer. Or maybe just no animals and just them and their friends. I’m curious

TY! It was definitely a warm and fuzzy post! I see no reason we can't acknowledge the difficulties he'd have as a parent (both as someone with trauma and as something with super senses), because it makes all the time, love, and effort he'd put in that much more meaningful. And God knows he'd love that kid with everything in him.

And oooh, this is a fun question! So I will say they are going to eventually get a cat (I did a oneshot about it a while back and it did well, and since I'd kinda always wanted to bring a cat into TRT, we're going to roll with it with some adjustments). That's going to become TRT canon! Ciro always had cats so Jane has a nostalgia for them, and that cat will also be a vehicle to help process some of her trauma (I haven't delved heavily into it yet, but her vague mentions of cats being 'fellow subjects' while she was held by Cyrus James will tie into this). Likewise, I'm on team, Matt needs a cat. I believe it would be really helpful for his mental health to have this little animal who just adores him, all these happy little purrs and cuddles, and a reminder that Matt's allowed to nurture something good, he's not going to kill whatever or whoever he touches. Matt's got his own emotional hangups there, but he'll work through it like Jane does. And once they're in that boat, I see them as always having at least one cat around, if not two.

ALSO GOOD CATCH ON THEIR TURTLE FRIENDS, THAT IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE RUNNING JOKES IN THE FIC

The one thing in this arena that I won't ever make official TRT canon about their future is whether they wind up with kid(s) or not. That's something I feel is incredibly personal and so I want to leave that open for people to decide themselves - do they have no kids? Just one? An entire football team? Your choice! I'll support it all as potential options, and in each of those? They're happy, whether that's the two them growing old and sitting in their red rocking chairs, having lived a long, happy life with their friends and cats and the Nelson clan who sees them as family, or as two parents to a herd of much loved kids and eventual parkour inclined grandkids.

That said, I did have the hilarious idea for a short What If oneshot involving them and their potential five-year-old daughter, who would be the bane of the principal's existence due to her penchant both for swearing and for questioning the justice of various school rules she does not agree with. But I'd mark that very clearly as a What If, and not as canon. It would just be a fun thing for me to explore because I think it would be hilarious.

[prettyboykatsuki]

cause we're, y'know | k. bakugou

✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, fluff, post relationship jitters, bakugou being down bad a little bit, friends to lovers. not 18+ but minors do Not follow me.

✮ wc ; 1k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @euthymiya who gave me free reign to do whatever which i used to write corny bkg fluff... thank u for commissioning me most beloved riv <3

✮ synopsis ; bringing his friend turned lover a lunchbox is normal, alright? plenty fucking normal.

Bakugou taps his fingers along the edge of the bench he's been sitting on since evening - beating to an unsteady rhythm.

He can Sero's voice in the back his hand as he squeezes the wrapped bento a little closer to his torso. The shitty, sing-song teasing lilt when you and Bakugou were less then lovers but more then friends.

And now you're lovers proper, as fucking corny as he finds it. But maybe he's not finding it corny enough because he's sitting in the lobby of your office building with a bento he made by hand. There's some chatter from strangers coming in and out of your office building - the occasional ding of elevators, the passing whistle of a janitor.

The awful, loud, no good thump of his heartbeat ricocheting against his rib cage as he goes back and forth on whether or not this shit was a good idea.

He's... fucking nervous. Which is total bullshit because he doesn't have anything to be nervous about. It's not like this is the first time you and Bakugou have ever met up to eat lunch. It was just that before, he was coming to meet you as a friend.

Some part of him is thinking, so what if he's your boyfriend? Who gives a shit, anyway?

Another part of him feels so mixed about the ordeal he sort of wants to puke.

His phone buzzes from the pocket of his pants and he grabs it - your phone and contact flashing across his screen

(sent 11:12am) coming down :]

Bakugou smiles to himself, at the stupid emoticon. He thinks about just liking your reply but before he gets the chance another text follows through.

(sent 11:12am) missed you <3

He blushes almost furiously. Partially over the text but mostly from his internal reaction. Stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. He types fast.

(sent 11:14am) hurry your ass up.

That's all he can manage to say without feeling like his chest is going to collapse in on itself. He waits another minute before he hears the elevator doors ding again - a crowd of people dispersing as the doors open. He looks for you among them.

He finds you after a minute, hand waving overhead of the sea of people. He huffs, amused at how rapidly you wave your hand, and thinks about texting you again but you're close enough that he doesn't bother.

You march towards him with a renewed vigor after you aren't lost to the sea of strangers. Bakugou snorts as you hurry your way over to him, almost seeming out of breath - like you ran to see him.

"Hey,"

"Hi!" You say, chipper as always. "You're here."

"No shit."

You laugh. He's heard it before. A hundred times, a thousand maybe. It still sounds weirdly different to him.

"Did you have anywhere in mind to eat?" You ask.

Horror dawns on him at the realization you still didn't realize what's in his hand. "I'm up for anything I think. Feeling adventurous."

Your eyes are sparkling when you ask. Bakugou freezes, blue screening momentarily before taking a breath.

He holds the boxed bento out to you sheepishly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. This is way more embarrassing then he thought it'd be.

"Fuck. Whatever. Look," He says, shaking the upset off of him with a frown. " He doesn't look up at you, doesn't even want to know what he might see. Something bright enough to fucking blind him, he's sure. "Don't say shit or I'm never making you one again."

You blink owlishly before letting your eyes flicker down again at what it's in front you. There's a beat of silence between you before Bakugou sees a grin slowly creep it's way up to your face in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

You take the wrapped bento from him, assessing the weight of it in your hand as you give it a good look. You hold it up to admire it and Bakugou feels the blush crawl further down his neck.

"Stop acting like I just handed you a diamond or some shit," Bakugou says lamely, even by his own standards. Your lips form into affectionate pout.

"You made me a bento." Your lower lip trembles all too sudden and Bakugou's eyes go wide. "I love you,"

?!

Bakugou looks at you, mouth agape. You're completely serious. Nevermind the inappropriate timing or the fact this is the first time you've expressed yourself with a word so serious. He's more concerned about the almost tears at your eyes. He pulls his sleeves over his hands to wipe them from your eyes.

"Dumbass, what are you crying about? You're still in the office, get it together."

"But I love you," You say, more whine then coherent word. Bakugou feels a headache coming on.

"Yeah I got that. Am I really such a shithead me bringing you lunch is worth sobbing over?"

"You made it for me."

"Cause I ain't no punk. Anyone can pay for you you but we're," He stops himself mid way, too embarrassed to get the rest out. "Anyways whatever. It's just lunch. I just... fuckin' realized I never made it for you. Dinner and shit is one thing but we're,"

"Dating," You finish before he can. He falls victim to more blushing.

"Yeah. Whatever. This much is pretty standard, at least." He wipes another tear off your face. It's funny. Anyone else pulled some shit like this and he'd rolls his eyes. "Stop cryin' already."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't gotta say sorry either."

"But,"

"No buts. Hurry and wipe your tears before your breaks over so you don't go all puffy eyed back in the office."

You laugh through a sniffle. "They'll think my boyfriend was being mean to me, huh?"

He snorts, voice full of playful sarcasm. "Yeah exactly. I've got a great reputation to uphold and all."

"Katsuki," You say gently. He gives you a look.

"Hm?"

You lean forward, craning up just slightly to press your lips to his. Your third kiss, now. Not that he's been counting.

"Thank you and," You pull back mischievously, brows furrowing. "Revenge."

He's in so deep. Fuck.

"You're such an idiot." He says, fighting off his own feelings.

"You love me,"

Maybe he's an idiot too.

"Yeah." He says, flicking your forehead and watching you beam. "Unfortunately."

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Coming Out

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: some explicit language, mention of an unsub hurting Emily 😱, vague insinuations of homophobia, mostly fluff on fluff, feat. loyal himbo Derek Morgan Word Count: 2k

Summary: Emily gets injured on the job, and all she really wants is you, her girlfriend. But she's not out to the rest of the team yet. Can she be vulnerable enough to share that part of herself with the team? Can she be vulnerable enough to let you take care of her? Takes place at the end of S3.E2.

Emily dabbed at her head and winced, checking her watch to see if it had been long enough to take more pain medication. But despite getting clocked with a plank of wood, she was glad to be on the jet, glad to be back with her team because they really were starting to feel like her team. Who was she kidding? She loved her job.

According to the pilot, the team would be landing at Quantico in a little over an hour. Emily grabbed her phone, discreetly shoving it into her pocket, before heading to the back of the plane. She needed to call you, but the rest of the team didn't know about you yet. Hell, the rest of the team didn't even know she was gay. It felt too personal, and she'd been hurt by people's reactions–people she loved and trusted deeply–too many times. She played her relationships and her sexuality close to the vest.

Reid tapped Emily's arm as she passed by.

"Oh! Are you going all the way to the back?"

Emily tensed. "Yep."

"Could you bring me a Sprite?"

She felt her shoulders relax, and she patted Reid on the arm. "Sure."

After knocking on the bathroom door to make sure that truly no one was around, she called you, her voice hushed as she rifled through tiny airplane soda cans, looking for Reid's Sprite.

"Hey, Em," you said, your voice bright.

"Hey," she said, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Saw a street rat earlier. I named him Guillermo. I think he's on the prowl for a girlfriend."

Emily laughed, covering her mouth.

"How was Milwaukee?" you asked.

"Good. Really good. We got the guy. We're on the plane now."

She could nearly hear how smug you were through the phone.

"You're glad you went back," you snickered, relishing in being right. She'd sworn that it wasn't a big deal, that it'd be easy to get another good job, but you knew her heart was with the BAU.

Emily sighed. "I am. You were right."

"You're gonna stay?"

"Looks that way."

"I knew it!" you crowed. "I'm glad. You're too good at your job to quit it."

"Thanks, love. Listen, Y/N, can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course! Anything."

Emily winced, touching the swollen bump on her head. "We land in about an hour. Can you pick me up and stay at my place tonight?"

"Wow." You drew out the vowel, milking the fact that Emily needed you for once. "You missed me that much, huh?"

"Well, yes, of course, but... I, uh... I kind of have a concussion?"

Your tone shifted immediately from smug to concerned. "What?! Why?! What happened!?"

"Unsub hit me with a plank of wood," she admitted reluctantly.

"Jesus Christ, Em! Are you okay!?"

"I'm fine, baby, I promise," she reassured you. "I just got a little banged up, that's all. But I'll need you to wake me up every few hours and make sure I'm cognizant."

"I think I have some soup in the freezer," you observed, your voice far away. You'd put her on speakerphone to rifle through the cabinets. "And I have a thermometer. I don't know, do concussions cause fevers? I've never had one."

Emily shook her head, smiling. She loved that your first response, always, was to take care of her. Emily was not used to being taken care of, and she didn't let many people do it. She certainly wouldn't let many people see it either. But she let you.

"No thermometers needed. Just you and your car and more you when we get home."

"You got it. When did you say you land?"

"In about an hour."

"Okay. I'll leave in a few."

"Oh," Emily added quickly. "And you're cleared to drive into Quantico. They know the car you drive and they've got your ID on file. Just show it to them at the gate."

You paused. "Well, that's a little Big Brother of them."

"I gave it to them a few months ago. Just in case you ever needed to come by. Sorry, I should've told you."

"It's okay," you decided, pulling on a jacket and a beanie. "It feels kind of badass to be on Quantico's list."

Emily laughed, almost excited to have a concussion because it meant you'd be snuggled right up to next to her for however long it took to get better. 48 hours at least.

"Alright, baby," she finished, Reid's Sprite in hand. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye, love."

Emily wiped the grin off her face before returning to the cabin with Reid's Sprite–it'd look suspicious if she was too happy coming back.

An hour later, the team was going their separate ways in the parking lot, waving goodbyes and slamming car doors under the buzzing lights.

Emily leaned on the wall outside the building entrance, relishing the crisp night air.

"You need a ride, Prentiss?" Morgan asked as he walked out, used go-bag slung over his shoulder. "You shouldn't be driving" He pointed to her head.

"No, that's okay," Emily waved him off. "I've got– uh... someone's... picking me up."

Fuck, she thought. The concussion was not helping her ability to lie well.

Morgan stared at her suspiciously.

"What?" Emily laughed, trying to act normal.

"Why are you acting shifty?"

"I'm not!" she protested.

Morgan smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "Do you have a secret boyfriend?"

"What?" Emily said, laughing a little too forcefully. "No!"

He crossed his arms and waited. "You're seriously not gonna tell me?"

Emily leaned against the brick wall, rubbing her forehead. On the one hand, she was tired of keeping you–and herself–a secret. And if anyone was going to be supportive of someone on the team getting laid, it would be Morgan. But on the other, did she really know that much about him? She didn't know his religious background. Sure, he'd defend a gay victim, but that was his job. This was personal.

Emily sighed before replying. "I have... I have a secret girlfriend."

The silence felt like it lasted hours, stretching between them until Emily was sure the chasm would never close again, and that with just a few words, just by being herself, she'd ruined any chance of a friendship with Derek Morgan. It wouldn't be the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last.

Morgan seemed to think deeply before leaning against the wall next to Emily, turning to look her in the eye.

"Prentiss, why didn't you tell us you were gay?"

Emily was afraid to look at him, but when she did, her heart soared. He looked at her with nothing but love and respect and appreciation, no hint of hatred or disgust. If anything, he looked sad that she'd waited so long to tell him.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't always get a good reaction."

"Well, you know nobody on this team would have a problem with that, right? Hell, Garcia'd probably hang pride flags everywhere."

"I know," Emily nodded. "I just... I don't think I'm ready yet. For everyone to know. Soon, though."

Morgan nodded, then thought for a few minutes before asking, "Is it serious?"

Emily chuckled. "Being gay? Yeah, I'd say so."

Morgan shoved her shoulder gently, mindful of the day's injuries. "No! The girl! How long have you been seeing her?"

"A little over six months."

"So, it's serious."

Emily grinned. She was glad to have someone to talk to about this. She'd held it so close for so long. She wasn't used to having anyone to tell about you. Maybe Morgan could be that person.

"Promise not to tell the others?"

Morgan put his hand over his heart. "Promise."

"I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd let me."

"Wow." Morgan raised his eyebrows, smiling lightly. "Prentiss is in love," he said, teasing her.

Emily fought a wide smile, but lost in the end. "Oh, shut up. And don't tell anyone. Especially her."

"Your secret's safe with me," Morgan reassured her. And she could tell he meant it. Emily trusted him, she realized. She trusted him to be a good friend, to keep her secrets. She trusted him not to out her to the rest of the team. He'd let her go at her own pace when it came to telling the others.

"She better be amazing," Morgan added. "I don't know how anyone could be good enough for you."

Just at that moment, a pair of headlights crept slowly into the parking lot, hesitant and unsure. It had to be you. Emily stepped forward and waved a bit, then turned to Morgan.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow?" she said.

"Not with that head, you won't," Morgan observed.

You put the car in park next to the curb and leapt out of the driver's seat, hurrying over to Emily.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, anger and concern washing over you. "I thought you you said you were fine!"

You gingerly touched Emily's face and pulled her head down to examine the butterfly bandage above her eyebrow.

"Look at this," you grumbled, more to yourself than anyone else. "It's already bruising." You glared at the butterfly bandage. "Did a doctor do this or you? If it was you, I think we should clean it with rubbing alcohol at home."

Morgan looked absolutely delighted, both because you seemed like a delightful person and because Emily was beet red at being observed with you.

"Y/N, I'm fine," Emily said firmly, grasping your fingers in hers and removing them from her face. "This is my colleague Derek Morgan. Morgan, my girlfriend, Y/N."

You looked Morgan over and immediately decided you liked him. Mostly because you could tell that he really cared about Emily. But also because he looked mischievous, like he'd tease her. And if there was anything you loved, it was teasing Emily. You shook his hand enthusiastically. "It's really nice to meet you," you said. And you meant it.

But you didn't have time to chat with Morgan tonight. You were too worried about Emily.

"You don't look fine," you argued, looking to Morgan for backup. "Does she look fine to you?"

Morgan grinned at Emily, raising his eyebrows. "She definitely looks like she could use some TLC."

"Oh, and she'll get it alright," you assured him, opening the passenger door for Emily. "Shall we?"

Emily bent gingerly to get into the car, and you were careful to guard her head from the ceiling.

"Derek, it was really nice to meet you," you said, shaking his hand one more time for good measure as Emily rolled down the window, staring bullets at Morgan.

"You too, Y/N," he said, looking over your shoulder at Emily. "I hope you all have a very marry evening."

Emily pointed at him aggressively behind your back, mouthing, "SHUT. UP."

"See you, Prentiss," he called as you pulled away. He laughed and called out, "I hope it's a real honeymoon from work!"

Emily's hand shot out the window, flipping him off.

Later that night, your alarm buzzed and you blinked awake. You forgot for a moment that you were at Emily's, but her strong arms wrapped protectively around your waist were enough to remind you where you were.

You turned slowly to face a sleeping Emily, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Em. Hey. You gotta wake up, honey."

She groaned, placing a hand on her head.

"Sorry," you grimaced. "Gotta make sure your brain's alright."

"My brain is fine," she growled.

"Oh, yeah?" you joked, checking the time before shaking a few pills into your hand from the pill bottle on the nightstand. "Who am I, then?"

"The love of my life, Whitney Houston."

You laughed, which made Emily laugh, too. But she quickly doubled over in pain, groaning.

"Here, take these," you said gently, handing her the pills and a glass of water. "It'll help."

She took the pills obediently and lay back down.

"You know," you said, pulling up the blankets to make sure they covered Emily's shoulders. "I may not be Whitney Houston..." You wrapped your arms around her and drew her to you, and she burrowed her head into the space between your neck and your collarbone.

"But I think I'm a close second," you finished, running your fingers rhythmically through Emily's hair.

She sighed contentedly, pressing into you, then moving one of your arms to wrap it more tightly around her.

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked, quiet. You couldn't quite tell if it was a joke or serious, but you'd reply the same either way.

"Because I love you, you nerd."

She leaned up, planting a kiss underneath your chin. "I love you, too."

Within minutes she was conked out again, and you were setting another alarm, ready to do it all over again in a few hours.

[ihfmseatsoch]

He's sick, and he's taken, but honest 🚀🌠

Grant Curly x fem!intern!reader

Summary: Stuck in an unhappy marriage, Curly's new intern brings some much needed excitement into his stagnant life.

genre: smut

word count: 4.7k

warnings/content: cheating, (legal) age gap, a lot of pining, curly is #depressed, semi public sex

���

Marriage is a common life goal most people aim to achieve. Curly was one of them, believing it'd give his life purpose. He'd have someone special to come home to after a long haul, maybe even a couple children in the future. He'd have a family that'd mitigate his loneliness, and he'd feel more accomplished as a human being. Lord knows his career would ever give him that feeling.

That fantasy turned out to be nothing like he anticipated. Everyone always talks about married life like it's some cushy, idealistic dream, so it's only natural that he expected... more. Something fulfilling.

Maybe it's because he rushed into it. Slapped a ring on the first girl he thought could be "the one", because he didn't want to waste his twenties being alone and single, while his other friends were already hosting baby showers and inviting him to weddings. He didn't want to feel out of place, and honestly, he was a little too desperate for normalcy. Stability. Whatever settling down brings you.

No one tells you what you're supposed to do when "the one" isn't who you thought they were. When "the one" becomes bored of you in less than a year, and you're forced to spend the next decade attempting to relive your honeymoon phase, rekindle the initial spark you and your spouse once had.

In the end, it was all fruitless.

One sided arguments were frequent, Curly typically too worn down to shout back at his wife, who's nagging him about something he did, or didn't do. Most of the time, Curly finds himself dissociating throughout the bombardment of verbal assault, which causes her to accuse him of not caring about their relationship, due to his lack of a reaction.

And, perhaps there's some truth to her claim. He cares enough to stay, but... does he want to continue putting in the effort to make their failure of a marriage work? Was their partnership worth trying to salvage?

The answer was a resounding no. Not anymore. Curly came to realize that he stayed out of obligation, not out of genuine love.

At least when he was piloting the Tulpar for over a year, it was a reprieve from his home life. He never thought he'd consider his job to be equivalent to a vacation of sorts, but that's where he is in his pitiful existence.

It wasn't until Curly was informed that an intern would be assigned to work alongside him, that the painstaking boredom of his routine was replaced with a breath of fresh air. Initially, he fully expected the new responsibility of tutoring someone more inexperienced than him to be a hassle.

But as soon as he set his sights on you, a pretty young thing with the aura of an angel, the thought of spending every waking moment with you didn't seem so bad. Not bad at all. You captivated him completely, which caused a bit of guilt to stir deep inside his stomach. He shouldn't be thinking of another woman this way, especially not one that was just learning how to say their first word by the time he was in highschool.

But god, were you entrancing. The most beautiful girl he'd seen in a long time. Curly felt worse than terrible for finding you more physically appealing than his own wife back on Earth, but you were so much sweeter than her, listened to him so intently, hanging on his every word as he explained the how the controls in the cockpit functioned, your compliments on his knowledge and experience going straight to his ego—

Oh, he was doomed. Utterly fucked.

"I don't think I'll ever be as good of a Captain as you, Grant." You spoke humbly, referring to him by his first name, ever so polite and respectful. Even if the rest of the crew called him Curly, you insisted on formalities. He was your boss, after all. That's part of what he appreciated about you.

How mature you were for your age.

"Don't be so sure 'bout that," He shot you one of his signature smiles, charming, but not quite reaching his eyes. "You've got a lot of potential, more than most kids your age. And it's not about bein' as good as me, y'know. You've gotta pave your own path. Learn at your own pace."

You had that usual expression on your face whenever he gave you a bit of his wisdom, which was truthfully just him parroting back what his brain had absorbed from the Polle posters with bland motivational quotes scattered around the ship, simplistic and cliché. Your eyes were locked onto him, focused, and beautiful as ever. You took him so seriously, it was almost a little silly. Sure, he was an authority figure, but he wanted to be more of a friend to you, rather than your superior.

"Just 'cause I'm younger than you doesn't make me a kid." You tease him a bit, and he's glad you're finally comfortable enough with him to do so.

"Right, my mistake," he chuckled, "Forgot I'm dealin' with a grown woman here. Forgive me."

"Forgiven." You quip back with a short laugh of your own. Fuck, you were cute. Such a pretty little smile, lips soft and kissable, practically begging him to smash his own against them, to bite, taste, and lick, until they were swollen and red from the aftermath.

Blinking a couple times, he clears his throat. Not now, Curly, he chastises himself. Get a grip. This stupid crush was completely inappropriate. Unethical. So why couldn't he brush his lustful fantasies aside, if he was aware how wrong they were? Why was he treating his life partner as an afterthought, willingly allowing himself to be ensnared by you?

He thought pumping his aching cock in slow, deliberate strokes, late at night in the privacy of his quarters, thinking of that tempting mouth of yours full of him, taking every inch of his shaft down your throat, running your hot, wet tongue along the length from base to tip, would make all those feelings go away. He doesn't know how long it's been since him and his wife have been intimate, he just needed some relief. Right?

Even after he spilled a thick load of cum all over his muscular stomach, abs softened from months of inactivity, he still wanted you. In fact, it only made his desire for you worsen, blossoming by the second. You were an insatiable craving he couldn't ignore. Not until he got a taste.

Curly didn't want to creep on you, but how was he ever going to initiate anything? Were you even interested in him in that way? How could he even suggest anything so uncouth, so perverted, especially as your boss? He wasn't a man who took advantage of power dynamics. Confessing how he felt towards you could jeopardize his position if you took it the wrong way, or, at the very least, damage the relationship he's been steadily building with you.

Instead of being upfront, he maintained an air of casualness when asking about your personal life. It was all normal, at first, asking about your parents, your upbringing, social circle...

And, eventually, he felt as if it wouldn't feel awkward if he inquired about a possible romantic partner, since the question was on topic. "You got anyone waitin' on you back on Earth?" He broached the subject with feigned nonchalance, hoping you don't take the question as too invasive. He felt the need to backpedal, his confidence wavering. "You don't gotta tell me, if that's too personal. Just curious."

"No, nothing like that." You answer, looking down at the coffee in your mug, not particularly interested in drinking any more of it. The first, very disappointing sip was enough. "Huh." Curly made a mild sound of surprise at your response. He fully expected someone to have snatched you up before him.

The fact that you were available made him feel a sense of relief, but also... worse, in a way. There was nothing holding him back from shooting his shot with you, no one in the way. No one to stop him from possibly making a horrible decision. Besides his wife, but... in all honesty, he suspects she's not being all that faithful back on his home planet.

"What about you?" Your question catches him off guard for a moment. Had he really not mentioned that he was married? Not once? He has to think fast. He has the opportunity to lie, or be honest with you. On one hand, the less you know, the better. On the other, telling the truth would prevent anything from happening between you two.

Steeling himself, he quickly makes up his mind, deciding that he can't bring himself to be dishonest. You'd find out eventually. "I'm married." Curly admits plainly, unable to force any kind of joy into his tone. He doesn't even smile, or look proud, like most husbands would when speaking about their wives. When did he become such a shithead, he wonders.

"You don't seem too happy about it." You immediately notice how... depressed he looks at the very mention of his spouse. Catching yourself being a little too blunt, you follow up with, "Um– not that I'm implying anything! Sorry..."

He sighs, dejected, tiredly rubbing his face, as if he could wipe the evident dissatisfaction clean off. The crushing weight of pretending everything's fine and dandy is catching up to him. "Nah, don't apologize. You're not wrong." He confesses out loud for the first time, even to himself. "Goin' through a rough patch. Have been for a long time."

Curly can hardly look at the raw, genuine sympathy on your face. He doesn't want you to pity him. He doesn't want anyone to. That's why he's hidden his marital problems from everyone he knows. Besides Jimmy, that is, but he's not the best guy to vent to, and Curly's only told him bits and pieces, to which Jimmy responds with the oh so helpful advice to simply get a divorce, like it's that easy.

"Sorry to hear that." You place a tender hand on his broad shoulder in a comforting manner. "I know what it's like, being in a shitty relationship. You can always talk to me about it, if you need to."

He can't help but melt into the display of physical affection, no longer used to feeling a loving touch. It was refreshing to experience genuine compassion for once. With a forced, half-hearted smile, he speaks solemnly, "Nah, don't wanna bother ya' with my problems. I appreciate it though, really."

Curly doesn't mention anything else about his personal life for a while, too embarrassed by the smidgen of vulnerability he showed you. He's supposed to be the Captain. The strong one. The guy who has his shit together. He can't let anyone know he's the opposite of who he presents himself to be.

But having you around has made him feel emotions he hasn't experienced in god knows how long. Plus, you're good company. A good friend. You make him feel alive again.

You're exactly what he needs.

Maybe he idealized you a bit, but how could he not? You were perfect to him, delicately handcrafted by angels, everything about you so sugary sweet that his teeth hurt just thinking about you. It came to a point where he genuinely wanted you to stay in his life for good, because without you, he's sure the vitality you instilled in him would fade, and he'd immediately wilt like a neglected houseplant; visibly half-dead and parched in the corner of the room, but no one takes the time to tend to it, or even acknowledge it's suffering.

His yearning became palpable, affecting the very atmosphere whenever you two were left alone. Curly had asked you to demonstrate what you've learned so far, and as you listed off the proper names of each button, lever, dial, and switch, summarizing your basic aviation knowledge, he simply couldn't focus on your words. Didn't need to, actually. He already knew you were smart enough to fly the ship yourself, so he took the time to just... admire you.

You were the epitome of light, brightening his days, no matter how dreary.

What he would give to have you sat in his lap as he mentored you, his hands guiding your own as you learned how to take the controls, whispering instructions into your ear just to watch your cheeks flush with warm blood, and listen to the way your breathing hitches when he pulls your body closer–

"Grant?" Your voice brought him out of his own head. Must've spaced out again. He's gotta stop doing that... "You're looking at me weird. I don't sound dumb, do I?"

Curly realizes he's been staring at you with a dopey, lovesick expression for way too long, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot for acting this way. "No, no. You're doin' great. Ain't you, just... haven't gotten a proper night's rest in a good while." That's a half-lie. Sure, he hasn't been sleeping well, but that's every night. Not much of a difference there. The only problem here is him and his lack of self restraint.

If only you knew how hard he's struggled to not shove his tongue down your throat.

"Something keeping you up?" You lean in closer, so willing to listen to his problems and carry his woes in your two shoulders. He can't tell you the truth. Can he? You're a good person, much better than he is. You wouldn't want to be with a married man.

Then again, he doesn't want to lie to you. It's been so difficult to hold back from declaring his feelings for you, it's eating away at his insides, tearing him apart little by little.

Guilt weighs heavily upon him like an anchor tied to his neck, pulling him to the bottom of the lake. "...Yeah," He swallows, "S'pose there is." He keeps his voice low, sounding immensely ashamed, like a child confessing to eating a dozen cookies before dinner.

"Talk to me." You urge, so oblivious to the cause of his inner turmoil. It's now or never. He either screws this up so irreparably bad, or you accept him and his shame.

Curly takes a deep breath, before forcing it all out in a quick, rushed jumble of words.

"I– fuck, don't think badly of me for this. I can't stop thinkin' about you. Can't get you outta my head, no matter how hard I try. I know it's wrong, god, do I know, but you're... you're just so..." He trails off, his own humiliation cutting his sentence short, and he mentally prepares for the worst rejection of his life.

An awkwardly long silence falls between you, as you take the time to process his confession. He looks like a broken man in front of you, unable to make eye contact, his hands clasped together, sweaty with fear.

"Grant..." You start, unsure how to go about this situation. "I'm glad you told me, and– and I like you too, I really do. But... your wife..." You bite your lip, bashful, never expecting yourself to develop feelings towards a married man of all people.

His heart sinks like a stone as you bring up the woman whom he had vowed eternal loyalty to. He exhales shakily, avoiding your eyes. "I know. Just... me and her... ain't been the same as it used to. Not for a long time."

"I'm sorry." Your heart swells with empathy, wondering why anyone would dare to mistreat a man like him. He's nothing but a sweetheart in your eyes. Flawed, yes, but so is everyone. "I... I don't think I'll make you happy, though. And... being the other woman, it'd feel... wrong. Even under these circumstances."

He nods, silently agreeing with you. It would be downright horrible of him to cheat on his wife, especially with a younger woman who he has a position of authority over. A position of trust and responsibility. A position in which he can easily take advantage of you if he really wanted to. Isn't that a sickening thought.

He's supposed to be better than this. Stronger than this. But he doesn't feel much like a good man right now. Feels like he's drowning.

You sigh at his silence, taking his clammy hands into your own. Your heart hammers against your chest wall. The forbidden aspect of the entire situation is adrenaline inducing. His sad puppy eyes make you feel awful for rejecting him, but if you two started anything, it'd end up a terrible mess.

Yet, you can't stop your body from inching even closer to him.

"I don't want you to be unhappy." You tell him, speaking quietly, as if to avoid eavesdroppers.

He knows he's supposed to pull away, to do the right thing for once. But when has he ever done the right thing when it comes to you? He dares to look into your eyes and his body tenses. You're so close, near enough to where he can see himself reflected in your dilated pupils.

This is wrong.

"You're too damn sweet for your own good," he murmurs, gaze flicking down to your lips, "Ain't makin' this easier for me."

It doesn't take long for the tension between the both of you to become unbearable, your hand finding his scruffy cheek to pull him towards you, practically smashing your lips to his. His beard tickles you as you kiss, but it doesn't deter you from allowing him to ravage your mouth.

A deep, almost guttural sound of desire rumbling out from his chest. The kiss is messy and desperate, bordering on hungry, starved of the affection you're giving him in this moment. He doesn't hesitate to hoist you up by your waist, sitting you down on the console, the sudden movement eliciting a surprised squeak from you, the sound muffled inside of his mouth.

Pulling away for air and a moment to compose yourself, your lips coated with a sheer layer of own another's saliva, you stare into each other's eyes as you breathe heavily, his large hands gripping your hips to keep you balanced and supported on the surface. "Grant..." You breathe his name, unable to come up with anything else to say in your dazed state of mind.

"You have no idea," he begins, huskily, "How fucking bad I want you." His firm tone makes your thighs press together, a jolt of arousal hitting you right in the gut. It's not the first time you've heard him speak in an authoritative voice, and it's not the first time it's made you fantasize about him using it... somewhere more private.

"The... The door isn't... locked." You point out, still apprehensive despite your growing need. Dipping his head into the slope of your neck, he mumbles against your skin, "Think you can be quiet, then?"

You don't think twice before you nod, even though you're truthfully unsure if you'll be able to hold back from crying out and alerting the others. Only one way to find out. He presses his groin to yours, the friction making your clit twitch as he makes direct contact with the clothed nerve. Curly's dick is already hard, straining through his uniform, and you can feel just how massive he is, even through the fabric.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he rasps, zipping his uniform down hastily, "You want this, yeah?" It was sweet how he asked for your consent, as if you two weren't already in the foreplay stage. You nod to ease his worries, pulling your own coveralls down, revealing the pajama shirt underneath, embarrassingly old and tattered. But you didn't exactly imagine you'd be fucking your mentor today, so there was no reason you would've thought to change into something sexier. You didn't even bring anything sexy on board. It's this or nothing at all, not that he seems to mind the less than elegant garment.

A brief, shaky laugh escapes him at the sight of you, only adoring you even more. "Cute," he comments, "Hope you don't mind if I take it off, though." Hopking his fingers under the the hem, he diligently pulls the shirt over your head, exposing the plain bra underneath. Underwhelming, but witnessing your half naked body is still a heavenly sight.

You decide you should start touching him as well, just to make it fair. You slip one hand under his shirt, feeling up his torso, your fingers exploring every groove of his defined muscle, even the slight pudge of his stomach. Not to mention, his chest is huge. Bigger than yours. You're almost jealous.

Curly's a little self conscious about the excess fat around his belly, but the way you're touching him as if he's a perfectly chiseled statue, fingertips grazing his skin with an awestruck expression on your face, makes him feel a little less insecure.

His own fingers dip down, the large pad of his thumb lightly stroking your clit through your panties. You have to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning. "Nnh– Grant–" You shudder, speaking as quietly as you possibly can with the way he's touching you, sending electric shocks of pleasure throughout your cunt.

"Call me Curly." He sounds like he's demanding you, rather than asking. "Don't gotta be so professional anymore. Not when you're gettin' this wet from just my fingers." There's a hint of pride laced in his voice at the end of his sentence. He's still got it.

"C– Curly..." You stammer, as if testing out the way his name rolls off your tongue. You reach up to grasp onto his shoulders as he pulls the fabric of your underwear aside. "Atta girl," he encourages, tracing the outline of your slick folds with a finger, "Always such a fast learner."

You intake a trembling breath of air, feeling him explore you, spread you open, tease your entrance, so tantalizingly close to sliding inside of you. "Need you, Curly..." You whimper, a little pathetically, "Need you so bad, please..."

He complies with your plea, reveling in how desperate you look for him. No one has desired him like this in years, his own wife has never looked at him the way you do, even before their issues. "Shh, I know, I know... don't worry. M' gonna make you feel real good, doll." He coos, slipping his index into your hole, your slick making the insertion smooth and easy. Even just one of his thick fingers make you feel full, not to mention it's long enough to immediately nudge against all the right places.

Your eyes roll back as he adds a second finger, stretching you open, the obscenely wet sound of him pumping in and out of your heat filling the cockpit. You let out a string of soft whines from your parted lips, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh my g– goddd– Curly, fuck–" You cry out, spreading your legs even wider for him so he can prod your insides at even more angles.

Your cries are like sweet hymns to his ears, the sight of you coming undone before him is glorious, and he wants nothing more than to worship you, all of you, for the rest of his life. "Yeah? This pretty cunt likes that, huh? I can tell, she keeps squeezin' down on me, suckin' me in..." Curly can hardly believe the filth coming from his own mouth. He's been so deprived of any sexual contact with a woman, that he feels slightly unhinged now that he finally has it. His dick aches, watching his digits disappear, sheathed inside you, before pulling back out again, coated in your arousal, over and over again.

"Think she can handle more than my fingers?" He asks, his body practically jittering with the need to fuck you stupid. The way he's talking about your pussy, like it's a separate being from you, is strangely hot. You nod, the very idea of having his cock inside you makes your walls involuntarily clamp around him. "Uh– Uh huh..." You nod, already dumb and drunk off the pleasure he's giving you.

Curly slips his fingers out, leaving you feeling momentarily empty. You watch him pull his cock from his boxers, throbbing and rigid, tip flushed red. His size is intimidating, and you can't fathom why his wife would reject this for anything. You're openly gawking at his dick, which fuels his ego nicely. "Not polite to stare." He teases, and your face grows warm from being caught. "Sorry..." You avery your eyes, sheepishly. "You're just... um..." You're unable to tell him how fucking huge he is, feeling too embarrassed, but his mind fills in the blanks.

"Don't worry," He soothes, "I'll be gentle, okay?" With a kiss to your temple, he lines himself up with your hole, aching more intensely than it ever has for anyone else, the extent of your arousal almost overwhelming.

"You ready?" He asks, looking at you for permission to proceed, scanning your face for any sign is discomfort. You nod timidly, admittedly nervous, but more than willing to take him. "Mhm," you shakily hum, "I'm ready..."

With your consent, he presses himself into you, swallowing your moans with a kiss as your hole stretches to accommodate his girth, your nails raking down his buff forearms. He groans lowly into your mouth as he sinks into you, nearly orgasming from your tightness alone. When he bottoms out, he pulls away from your mouth just enough to whisper against your lips, "M' gonna start movin', okay? Be good n' stay quiet for me. I know you can do it."

You nod obediently, and he begins to rock his hips, pulling out, pushing in, rhythmic and gentle, allowing your body to ease into the feeling. You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, ensuring he stays as close to you as possible. "F– Feels so good, so good–" You babble, your voice raising to a higher pitch than usual.

He kisses your neck, your jaw, your collarbone, anything that's within his reach, murmuring praises against your skin, "I know, pretty girl. Takin' it so well, look at you... so good for me, always so fuckin' good..." You feel him all the way in your stomach, his fat tip almost punching your cervix as his thrusts accelerate, your thighs tensing around him at every harsh movement, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, making you fearful of the sound attracting the others towards the cockpit, but not scared enough to do anything about it.

You grow close humiliatingly fast, but you can't really blame yourself when the biggest cock you've ever had is slamming into you, rubbing against every sweet spot in your cunt. "Curly– M' gonna–" you can hardly choke the words out.

"Yeah? Gonna cum for me?" He pants, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead, "Go ahead n' cum, sweetheart. Rub that pretty lil' clit and make yourself cream all over my cock." His tone is so gentle in comparison it his vulgar sentence. You obey his instructions without hesitation, ardently using two fingers to rapidly stroke the hard, swollen bud, enhancing the euphoria washing over your body. Your body spasms as your orgasm hits you, more explosive and perfervid than you've ever felt before, your cunt pulsing around his cock, your sticky and lustrous arousal coating your thighs.

"That's it, there you go..." He grunts lowly, thrusts growing erratic, his movements losing their fluidity as he quickly approaches his own release. "So beautiful when you cum on my cock like that... mmph– fuck– m' almost there, hold on a little longer for me–"

Thankfully, he doesn't continue to fuck your overstimulated pussy for too much longer, completely overwhelming your senses. Curly pulls out and gives his dick a couple pumps, before spilling onto your stomach, some of his seed shooting onto the console, mixing with your own juices. This'll be disgusting to clean up.

You rest your head on his broad chest, catching your breath, both of you coming down from the intensity of your high as he strokes your hair soothingly. "Shhh, shhh.... you did so well... you feelin' alright? Anything hurt?" His aftercare is sickeningly sweet, and it's evident he genuinely cares about your answers to his questions, and how you're feeling.

In your mind, it's too soon to call the affection you have for him anything veritably close to true love. On the other hand, to him, he's head over heels for you, after knowing you for two months at most. Or, at least, that's what he believes.

A nagging thought is stuck in the back of his mind, one that he'd rather not contemplate for too long:

How the fuck is he going to look his wife in the eyes when he returns to Earth?

—

[gendercomsumer]

hiii ^^ I would like some headcanons for riddle, malleus, vil and rook with a fem mc that accidentally ends up making them laugh (because what she says or does is very random xd maybe an example would be like jennifer lawrence sjjs she is very funny ) well that's all, thanks and take care <3

Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook with an S/O who can make them laugh with the most random things

A/N: Hello to you too Anon! I know this has been in my inbox for gods knows how long- But thank you still for sending this in! I hope this is to your liking! I actually did watch some Jennifer Lawrence videos for inspiration and I have to agree the comedic timing she has is perfect!! I also used some google translate in Rooks part so it may not be accurate ^^;

Characters: Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook

Warnings: Cursing to a mild degree, playful mention of stalking in Rooks (I love him I swear!!!), lightly proof read

Fem!Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is a bit difficult to get a good genuine laugh out of, at least in my opinion.

Like sure you have a small chuckle when he finds something amusing, but i feel like it'd be a bit of a challenge to get a good genuine laugh out of.

Then you came in, saying the strangest things at the most unrelated times!

And Ace and Deuce find this absolutely hilarious

You'll say the most out of pocket shit with the straightest face and somehow half the people around you start to laugh some others breaking out in giggles

Ace and Deuce have definitely talked about this 'talent' of yours, at least in their words.

You had said some of these strange comments around Riddle and he found them strange a bit endearing as well

I'd think the time you got a good laugh out of him was when you had come with him to take care of some of the hedgehogs

The two of you were sitting in the grass some of the hedgehogs were playing while a few had decided that climbing on the two of you was a good way to pass the time

One had wandered up onto your head and almost fell off but luckily you were able to save the little guy before he fully hit the ground

After Riddle worriedly checked the little guy over you while looking over his shoulder at the small animal said:

"Well at least we know this one has no self preservation"

Unwillingly, or maybe subconsciously, a small laugh makes it's way through Riddles chest to his lips.

Well, now maybe he saw what those two were blabbering on about

Your little comments were always appreciated with Riddle

Even if they didn't cause him to laugh they did brighten his mood at least somewhat

"Yes, this one does tend to be a bit of a handful. Reminds me of a certain rose I know"

He teased before you two fell back into the pattern of caring for the small animals

More chuckles and comments to come no doubt

Malleus Draconia

At first Malleus didn't understand why the rest of Diasomnia found your remarks so comical

Yes his child of man did tend to bring a certain warmth where ever she walked

But he didn't see this as an excuse for the amount of laughter you cause people around you

Most of the remarks you make will fly over his head

I'm sorry but he seems like the kind of guy to not get the joke until you explain it to him-

Now the Thorn Prince does share a few chuckles with those around him when he finds something amusing, similar to Riddle

But it's even more difficult to get a laugh out of him considering he doesn't get a lot of the play on words type of jokes

but something abrupt and slightly out of context?

I feel like that would get some sort of laugh out of him

One day you were talking with Malleus about some of the things you did in your old world

The topic of amusement parks came up and you started listing the rides you used to go on as a child

Roller coasters, bumper cars, lazy rides where you could relax, until you blanked on the name of a ride

It was frustrating considering it was probably something simple and you would remember it after their conversation, but you wanted to keep the ball rolling

Malleus mean while was partly enjoying seeing how frustrated you got over a simple word

You really were a strange thing weren't you Child of man?

"I'm sorry Mal- I know what I'm thinking of! It's on the tip of my tongue- It's like one of those horse tornado things!"

Horse.. tornado..?

Now that got Malleus attention

he understood the other rides you described, favoring the lazy rides

but what ever this horse tornado was... it sounded.. strange, yet curious at the same time

"CAROUSELS!! FUCKING CAROUSELS, THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED!"

Malleus let out a small puff of air before he started chuckling under his breath

You truly were a strange one weren't you child of man, just like the world you came from

Malleus pressed a kiss to your forehead letting out one more chuckle before speaking

"Truly fascinating, maybe one day you could bring me to one of these 'horse tornados' you have me interested"

Sure jokes your fly over his head, but he would tease you some what for your small skips in memory

Vil Schoenheit

Now Vil, having acted in a lot of movies, (If I'm correct) Would have probably had a few good laughs in that line of work

Weather that be on set or behind the cameras

But he doesn't often let out a good laugh in public, it's not really part of the proper image he'd want to put out there

As for behind closed doors or with close friends he's definitely willing to have a laugh

And who better to bring a smile to his face than his lovely sweet potato?

Though one good moment always stuck out to him that caused him to have one of the most genuine laughs in awhile

The two of you were getting ready to go out to a fancy restaurant, courtesy of Vil of course, hair, makeup, shoes things like that

While Vil was sitting at his vanity working on his eyes when you came out of the bathroom in a stunning dress hand picked by Vil

It brought out all your best features while still being enough coverage to where it wasn't uncomfortable to wear into a public area

The two of you made idle conversation as you sat on a near by chair to slip on a matching set of heels for the dress

As you stood up in the heels to work on your own makeup you lost your balance thanks to the new height the heels provided

Although Vil was quick to catch you making sure you came no where near the floor he still was concerned

"Oh sweet potato are you alright? What happened?"

Yes looking back on it the question seemed dumb but he was concerned

but you just let out a giggle while regaining your balance before saying:

"Well I'm not sure what happened, but I remember wanting to yell 'fuck' as my last words before I embarrassed myself"

Vil took a moment while looking at you

then a chuckle escaped his lips which soon turned into the two of you sharing a small laugh

Now Vil doesn't know why he laughs at your antics, in hindsight they're just normal phrases

But maybe it's the delivery?

Or the way you smile at him?

What ever it may be it always causes a smile to grace his lips or a chuckle to be drawn from him

Sure Vil maybe all about preserving beauty and making sure he looks flawless

But if he happens to get a few smile lines because of your antics, he will never hold it against you

"Well my darling, I'm glad to hear you're alright. It would be a shame if you or your lovely dress got roughed up before we left. Now come, you still want to do your makeup don't you? Allow me to help"

Rook Hunt

Now Rook has plenty of laughs in his life

Weather that be from stalking some poor soul or a genuine laugh among friends

Rook out of the four is probably the easiest to get a laugh from

He's a joyful guy wanting to see all nature and the world has to offer! Can you blame him?

Then enters you who some how can't help but leave Rook giggling when ever you do something!

You put your tie on wrong? Oh silly Trickster aren't you just the sweetest thing!

Then comes your words which to Rook is a whole new ball park

Rook tends to hold onto every word meant for him, weather that be written or spoken out loud

His darling Tricksters words are so elegant and so sweet how could he not treasure everyone!

What really gets him chuckling and laughing is the moments when your words aren't as sweet and graceful

Cut to one day when you and Rook were in the fields often used for flying class

Rook had a desire to teach you archery so he happened to drag you along with a quiver and bow to some targets set by his hand

After the first few moments of Rook teaching you how to properly hold and aim the bow and making sure your arm guard was secure (He wouldn't want his darling trickster to get rope burn!) He let you shoot

All was going well as you hit targets in an... acceptable way

But all that seemed to end when a large gust of wind sent your best shot yet off course and into the ground

And just as Rook was about to offer some encouragement to keep going and try once more

some colorful language came from you to say the least

"Wind!? Really!?! Could you not wait two fucking minuets!! Nooooo! You just had to thro my best shot off course you-!"

Now don't get Rook wrong he hold the sweet words you two share close to his heart

But there was just something about you yelling at the wind of all things that caused him to start laughing

As he laid on the grass of the field eyes closed as he laughed

Oh? It seems your colorful language is directed towards him now? Even better!

"Trickster- reine de mon coeur! Please I believe- I believe you have shared plenty enough words with the wind today!"

A/N: This is actually the first time I've taken a good look at the name of Malleus' dorm. Dia = Dragon. Somnia = Sleep

Diasomnia = Dragon of sleep

just a ting i found silly :)

[4linos]

asking skz to tie a ribbon around their bicep

ot8 stray kids x gn!reader

request: Asking the ot8 boys to tie a ribbon around their biceps

wc: 4172 (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

a/n: not proofread 🙂‍↔️.

bang chan

You were at the gym, watching Chan move through his usual routine. His biceps were flexing with each rep, and you couldn't help but appreciate the effort he put into his workout. Your eyes kept drifting back to his muscles, and an idea popped into your head—a mischievous one.

You walked up to him after he finished his set, smiling innocently. “Hey, babe, could you do something for me?”

Chan looked up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his face already breaking into a smile at the sight of you. “Sure, anything. What’s up?”

You leaned in slightly, “Could you tie a ribbon around your bicep for me? Just for fun.”

Chan blinked at you in surprise, then chuckled. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?”

You nodded, your grin widening. “Yeah, just for me. I think it’d look cute. Please?”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, but the smirk on his face said it all—he wasn’t going to say no. “You’re a weirdo, but alright. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

He put the little, decorative ribbon you brought with you around his bicep, making sure it was snug but not too tight. The cheeky sparkle in his eyes caused you to laugh out loud when he turned to face you once more. "You think this is cute enough?" Chan asked, flaunting the ribbon and flexing his arm. "Perfect," you replied, smiling softly as you reached out to gently adjust it. "Everything looks good because of you." He leaned forward and kissed your forehead as his smile softened. "I'll wear a ribbon every day as long as it brings you joy."

You laughed, grateful for how far he’d go to indulge your silly requests.

lee know

On a relaxing afternoon, you and Minho were relaxing at home while you sat cross-legged on the couch and browsed through your phone to the soothing sounds of some music. Minho was at ease as he laid beside you with his arm slung across the back of the couch. You gave him a quick glance as a lighthearted thought occurred to you. You had always liked his biceps, but today you wanted to see them in a completely new way—in a cutesy yet ridiculous way. You quickly placed your phone down and smiled as you turned to face him.

With a hint of mischief in your tone, you said, "Hey, can you do me a favor?" Minho arched an eyebrow, obviously interested but unsure of the direction of this. "What is it?" Reaching over, you placed a little, colorful ribbon you had previously picked up on the side table. It was the perfect size and a gentle pastel tint. Your smile grew as you extended it to him. "Could you tie this around your bicep for me?" Minho looked at you for a time, blinking, as though he was trying to tell if you were kidding. "A ribbon? "Around my arm?" he asked, appearing both genuinely perplexed and amused by the request.

"Yeah," you said, giggling a little. "I think it'd look cute. Just for fun. Please?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You're so random." But his smile grew, and he took the ribbon from you, clearly willing to indulge you. As he looped it around his bicep, you couldn't help but watch as his muscles flexed slightly under the motion, making your heart skip a beat.

Once it was tied, Minho looked at you, flexing his arm with a smirk. “Happy now?”

You leaned forward, pretending to inspect it, your finger gently adjusting the bow. "Absolutely. You look... ridiculously good. Like a gift wrapped just for me."

He rolled his eyes, clearly entertained. "You're weird," he said with a smile, but you could see the fondness in his eyes.

"You know you love it," you teased, reaching over to give his arm a playful squeeze, feeling the strength beneath your fingers.

Minho smiled, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair. “I really do,” he said, clearly amused by how something so simple could make you so happy.

"Good," you said, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re the best, Min. Thanks for letting me make you a walking present."

He laughed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

changbin

It was a quiet night at home, and you and Changbin were spending time on the couch while the soft glow of the living room lights created a cozy atmosphere. He was leaning back, his muscles flexing slightly with each movement, while you were snuggled up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder, lazily scrolling through your phone. His biceps, which are well-defined and strong because of the amount of work he puts into his workouts, caught your eye as you looked at him absently. You admired his muscularity, but you couldn't get a silly idea out of your head today.

You turned to him, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face. "Hey, Bin," you said, glancing up from your phone.

He looked down at you with an amused expression. "What’s up?"

You hesitated for just a second, then pulled a small ribbon from your pocket, its soft pastel color standing out against the more neutral tones of the room. "Can you do me a favor?"

Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the sudden request. “What kind of favor?”

You held the ribbon out toward him with a teasing grin. “Could you tie this around your bicep for me? Just for fun. I think it’ll look cute.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?” His voice was a mix of confusion and amusement, though you could already tell he wasn’t going to say no.

You nodded, your smile widening. “Yeah, I think it’ll look cute. Just once, please?”

Changbin let out a small laugh, shaking his head at your quirky request but not even hesitating to take the ribbon from your hand. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice. “But okay, for you.”

He gently wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the contrast of the soft fabric against his muscular arm making your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire how even something so simple looked so good on him. Once it was secured, he flexed his arm slightly, looking down at it with a smirk.

"Well?" Changbin asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "How do I look?"

You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement. “You look... ridiculously good,” you said, your voice dripping with affection. “Like some kind of strong, tough guy, but also a little bit of a sweetheart with a ribbon around your arm.”

At your lighthearted remark, he shook his head and laughed. With the ribbon still precisely positioned on his arm, he drew you close to him and added, "I'm glad I can make you happy." You were happy with the small moment as you leaned toward him and put your head against his chest. You smiled to yourself and whispered, "You always do." "You're perfect." Changbin laughed quietly and kissed your forehead.

hyunjin

It was a sunny afternoon, and you and Hyunjin were strolling through a small outdoor market, taking in the sights and smells of the various stalls. You were looking at the colorful displays, the light breeze adding to the pleasant atmosphere. Hyunjin walked beside you, his relaxed stride matching the laid-back vibe of the day, his sleeves rolled up casually, showing off his sculpted arms.

You were walking past a stand with fabric and ribbons when you noticed one that stood out as especially delicate—it was a gentle pastel pink. Before you could stop yourself, you turned to Hyunjin and smiled nonchalantly as an idea struck you. You said, "Hey, Hyun," as you gazed up at him with a playful twinkle in your eyes. He looked down at you, looking at you with interest. "Yeah?" While holding out the ribbon, you said, "Can you do me a favor?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What kind of favor?"

With a teasing smile, you held the ribbon out toward him. "Could you tie this around your bicep? Just for fun," you said, your voice light and playful.

Hyunjin stopped walking for a moment, blinking at you in surprise. "A ribbon? Around my arm?" He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the randomness of the request. "Are you serious?"

You nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain your excitement. "Yep! I think it'd look cute. Come on, please?"

Hyunjin stopped for a moment, then shook his head while continuing to laugh. He said, "You’re really something," but his smile made it clear he wasn't going to turn you down. Taking the ribbon from your hand, he easily tied it around his bicep, his biceps rippling slightly as you both walked ahead. He arched an eyebrow at you as he straightened up and flexed his arm after tying it. With a teasing grin tugging at his lips, he asked, "How do I look?"

When you saw him with the delicate ribbon against his muscular arm, you couldn't help but giggle. Your heart skipped a beat at how incredibly good he looked. "You look... like a model who’s ready to break hearts and steal ribbons," you taunted. Clearly pleased with himself, Hyunjin grinned. "Well, I'm glad you think so," he added, emphasizing with his arm still flexed. "Anything for you, I guess." You bent over and kissed him on the cheek. You muttered, "You're the best," appreciating how he always gave in to your silly requests.

HAN

It was a breezy afternoon, and you and Jisung were taking a stroll through a local park, enjoying the calm atmosphere. The trees were swaying gently in the wind, and the sun was just starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. You walked side by side, hands brushing occasionally, the sound of your footsteps mixing with the peaceful background noise of nature.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Jisung had rolled up his sleeves earlier, revealing his toned biceps. Every time he moved, you couldn’t help but admire how strong he looked, his muscles subtly flexing.

An idea popped into your head, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You decided to have a little fun.

"Hey, Ji," you said, turning to him with a teasing grin.

He glanced over at you with that signature cocky smirk of his. "What? What’s that look for?" he asked, already sensing that something mischievous was coming.

You pulled a soft, pastel ribbon out of your bag that you’d picked up earlier, holding it up with a playful sparkle in your eyes. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Jisung blinked for a moment, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, before a cocky grin spread across his face. "A ribbon? Around my bicep?" he repeated, clearly amused. "What, you think I need a little decoration to match my muscles or something?"

Without even attempting to conceal your laughter, you burst out laughing. "Well, you know," you replied, "It’s just that I think you'd look even more... impressive with it." Jisung laughed, obviously taking pleasure in your flirty banter. "Oh, so I’m already impressive, but a ribbon is just the finishing touch?" His voice was overflowing with confidence as he flexed his arm, obviously playing up the situation. "Alright, I will. For you.” Taking the ribbon from your hand, he wrapped it around his bicep and secured it with a little, exaggerated arm flex. He moved slowly and deliberately, obviously relishing the attention he was receiving. He gave you a dramatic flex after finishing, lifting his arm a little.

With a smug look on his face, he asked, "How’s this?" "Looking good, right?" You chuckle quietly as you admire how self-assured he was about it. "Really?” You shook your head in pleased amazement and replied, "You look ridiculous... but also ridiculously good." "You could wear anything and still manage to look perfect." Jisung leaned in a little, obviously enjoying your compliment. "Of course," he answered, grinning even broadly. "I mean, I always look this good, but if a ribbon makes you smile, I’m all in."

You smiled, reaching up to adjust the ribbon playfully. "You really are full of yourself, huh?"

"Only because I know you like it," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I’m definitely not complaining," you said, feeling the warmth of his confidence mixed with your affection for him.

As you continued your walk together, you couldn’t help but smile at how he always knew how to make you laugh—and how, no matter the request, he would always turn it into something fun.

felix

It was a cozy evening at home, and you and Felix were in the middle of a movie marathon. The soft glow of the fairy lights you’d strung up earlier added to the intimate vibe of the night, and a bowl of popcorn sat between you on the couch. You were curled up beside him, feeling completely content as you both laughed at the random jokes and cheesy moments of the movie.

Felix, who was in a comfortable oversized hoodie and sweatpants, absentmindedly tugged his hoodie off, showing off his lean arms as he adjusted himself on the couch. You couldn't help but notice how good he looked, even in something so simple.

Then, your eyes landed on a cute ribbon you had left on the coffee table. You remembered you had bought it earlier and thought it would be fun to incorporate it into your night somehow. A mischievous idea crept into your mind.

“Hey, Lix,” you said, pausing the movie with a sly grin.

He turned his head toward you with a curious expression. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.

You picked up the ribbon and held it up in front of him, the light catching its soft, pastel color. “Can you do me a favor?” you asked, your tone playful.

Felix blinked and tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “What kind of favor?”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your giggles in check. “Could you tie this around your bicep? I think it’ll look really cute on you.”

Felix's eyes immediately lit up, his face breaking into an excited grin. “Wait… really?” he said, his voice practically bubbling with enthusiasm. “I’ve seen people doing this lately, and I’ve been wanting to try it! Yes! Let’s do it!”

You burst out laughing at his excitement. “I had no idea you’d be so into it.”

Felix practically bounced off the couch in excitement, reaching for the ribbon before you even finished speaking. "I’ve got to do it right, though," he said, his expression full of determination as he wrapped the ribbon carefully around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. He flexed his arm as he finished, clearly pleased with the result.

He turned toward you with a proud smirk. "How’s this? Am I pulling it off?" he asked, his voice full of playful confidence.

You smiled, completely amused by how eager he was. “You look amazing,” you said, laughing. "Honestly, you’re probably the best person to wear a ribbon. It looks like you were born for it."

Felix struck a dramatic pose, flexing his arm again as if he were on a runway. “I knew it,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “I’m a trendsetter. Always ahead of the curve.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching over to adjust the ribbon slightly. “You’re so extra,” you teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But you really do look good.”

Felix smiled widely, his eyes softening as he pulled you closer. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling warm and content. “Best decision I made today,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection for him as the movie continued to play in the background. Felix, with his ribbon and his smile, was all you needed in that moment.

seungmin

It was a quiet afternoon in the park. The weather was perfect—cool with a gentle breeze, and the soft sounds of children playing and birds chirping filled the air. You and Seungmin were sitting on a bench near a pond, enjoying the calm atmosphere. He had brought along a book, but you had found yourself distracted, leaning back and soaking in the peaceful scene around you.

As you sat beside him, your fingers absentmindedly ran through the small bag you’d brought along. That was when you noticed it—a soft, pastel ribbon you’d picked up from a craft shop earlier that week. A soft smile crept onto your face as an idea formed.

You glanced over at Seungmin, who was still quietly reading. His biceps were subtly flexing under his fitted T-shirt, and the thought of adding a cute, little accessory to them suddenly seemed like the perfect idea.

“Seung,” you began, your voice light and teasing, “can you do me a favor?”

He looked up from his book, his expression one of mild curiosity. “Hmm? What is it?” His tone was relaxed, not expecting anything unusual.

You held up the ribbon in front of him, trying to hide your excitement. “Can you tie this around your bicep?” you asked, your voice playful. “I think it’ll look cute on you.”

Seungmin blinked, clearly caught off guard. He stared at the ribbon for a moment, then looked back at you, slightly confused. “A ribbon? Around my arm?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Why would I do that?”

You pouted, trying to hide your disappointment. “I just think it would be fun,” you said, a little quieter now. “You’d look cute.”

Seungmin frowned slightly, not quite sold on the idea. “It just seems... kind of silly,” he muttered, glancing at the ribbon again. “I don’t know if I want to do that.”

The playful energy you had a moment ago quickly shifted. You felt a little disappointed, even though you knew it wasn’t a big deal. You had just hoped it would be a fun moment to share, but now Seungmin seemed unsure, and you couldn’t help but feel a little deflated.

Noticing the change in your mood, Seungmin's expression softened, his gaze flicking back to you. He realized he might have come off a little too harsh, and seeing the slight sadness in your eyes, he quickly sighed, setting his book aside.

“Okay, okay,” he said, giving you a small but warm smile. “I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to wear it for long, alright?”

You perked up instantly, your smile returning. “Really?” you asked, your tone filled with excitement. “Thank you, babe!”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile on his face. “I don’t get why you like these kinds of silly things, but…” He grabbed the ribbon from your hand and wrapped it around his bicep with exaggerated care, making sure it was tied just right.

Once it was secure, he flexed his arm just a little, showing off the ribbon in a way that almost made you laugh. “How’s that?” he asked, his voice a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment. "You happy now?"

You couldn't stop smiling. He might have been reluctant at first, but he still looked amazing with the ribbon on his arm. “You look great,” you said with a grin, reaching out to gently adjust the ribbon. “I told you, it’s cute.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll wear it for a little while.”

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It makes me very happy,” you said softly, your voice warm with affection. “Thank you for indulging me.” He chuckled, clearly feeling a little more at ease. As you sat together, the ribbon still around his bicep, you felt the warmth of the moment. It wasn’t just about the silly request—it was the way Seungmin always cared enough to make you happy, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone for a moment. And that made the simple gesture so much more special.

I.N

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Jeongin were relaxing at his place. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying the quiet, while he had been fiddling around with his phone. The windows were open, letting in the soft breeze, and the world outside seemed to slow down as you two enjoyed the calm.

You were absentmindedly scrolling through your own phone when your eyes fell on the small ribbon you’d brought with you. It was a simple, pastel blue, just the right size to fit around a bicep. A playful idea crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, babe," you said, glancing up at him, a teasing grin on your face.

He lowered his phone and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’s up?” he asked, clearly curious.

You held the ribbon out between your fingers. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked, your tone light and playful. "I think it’ll look cute on you."

Jeongin’s eyes lit up immediately, and a cocky grin spread across his face. He leaned back on the couch, puffing out his chest a little. "A ribbon?" he repeated, clearly liking the attention. "You want me to wear a ribbon around my bicep?"

You nodded, trying to keep your grin in check. "Yep, exactly that. I think it'd be cute, and I wanna see it on you."

He let out a small laugh, the kind that hinted he was already feeling a little too proud of himself. "Oh, so you want me to show off these bad boys, huh?" he said, flexing his biceps a little and making them bulge impressively. "I mean, I have been hitting the gym with the guys a lot lately. All those extra sets are finally paying off."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Okay, we get it," you teased, giving him a playful push. "You’ve got muscles. Can you just put the ribbon on already?”

Jeongin chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Oh, I’m just getting started," he said, looking down at his arms and admiring them as though he were in front of a mirror. "You know, I have been getting stronger, so now I’m basically a walking advertisement for all my hard work."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure, sure," you said, amused. "Keep flexing. I just want you to tie the ribbon on so I can see how ridiculous you look with it."

Jeongin’s grin widened, and he leaned forward to take the ribbon from your hand. "Fine, I’ll humor you. But just so you know," he said as he carefully wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. "I’m not just doing this for you. It’s a chance for me to show off my gains."

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic tone. "I can see that," you teased, playfully eyeing him as he flexed again to show off the ribbon. "Are you going to wear it like this all day, or do I have to deal with the gym bro attitude the whole time?"

He turned to face you, flexing his arm dramatically, showing off the ribbon now adorning his bicep. "You think this is a one-time thing?" he asked, clearly enjoying how ridiculous and charming he looked. "I’m about to start a new trend. Who wouldn’t want to wear a ribbon with these muscles?"

You rolled your eyes again, though there was a smile on your face. "You’re such a show-off," you said, leaning over to adjust the ribbon just slightly, your fingers grazing his skin. "But you look good, I’ll admit it."

Jeongin puffed his chest out even more, giving you a proud look. "Of course I do. You’re welcome," he said, his voice oozing confidence. "You’re lucky I’m letting you see all this muscle right now."

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m lucky, huh?" you said with a playful smirk. "I’m the one who gets to see you all flexing over a ribbon, looking like a total goofball."

Jeongin just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. "Anything to make you smile," he said, softening a little despite the cocky attitude.

You snuggled into him, smiling. "I think you’re cute no matter what," you said, enjoying the warmth of his arm around you. "But this just makes you even more ridiculous, and I love it."

Jeongin grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice softening despite his earlier boastfulness.

—

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

[causenessus]

leaving soon. | dazai o.

dazai x f!reader

written in 3rd person bc i can

song recc: the fear of losing this by florist

word count: 2.8k words

notes: use of pet names angel, love, and bella; WARNING for mentions about suicidal ideation,, not heavy angst, it's just dazai. and also the reader thinking she'd be fine dying if she's with dazai. not in a manipulative way, just a way of loving him in every universe and state <3 lots of hurt/comfort, overthinking, and insecurity. basically both dazai and the reader are horrible at communication so they have to figure it out together. established relationship implied. takes place during cannibalism arc after dazai is shot. civilian or ada reader not specified on purpose. thank you for reading!

she was the first person they called when they found out.

well– the first after an ambulance had been called. after that, she was the next most important person to call.

not important enough to have any part in saving his life, though. not just as a doctor; she wasn’t good enough to prevent him from thinking of killing himself every day. she wasn’t important enough to keep him from throwing himself into the way of danger, not worth enough that he thought about what would affect her before he wound up in these situations–

it was wrong of her to be angry at him for something like this. she knew what she’d been getting into when she first met him. when she first started falling for him, and when she confessed. she knew all along what he was like, and she still loved him anyway.

yes, he had a past. yes, he joked about committing suicide every day. yes, he was reckless. yes, he was a mastermind. yes, he was selfless and willing to always put everything above himself. yes, he was bad at communication. yes, he was worthy of love. yes, he could give love.

relationships were a work in progress. they would always be until the day she ended up buried next to him, hopefully. deep down, a part of her had already forgiven him for the episode of panic and stress she'd had as soon as she'd recieved the broken call from atsushi. but the other half knew it also wasn’t wrong of her to feel upset when she'd heard that her boyfriend had been shot in an alleyway.

she knew him well enough to know he knew he was putting himself in risk of danger in that alleyway, whatever he'd been doing there. she reckoned he probably knew he was going to be shot, too. and if he knew all that, she just wanted to know why he didn’t give her a heads-up. she wasn't asking for all the details. even just a text, moments before, saying "hey. i'm about to end up in the hospital. someone might will call you. don't be too worried." she didn't expect them dating to miraculously change him into a man who didn't crave death at every moment, but had it been so wrong of her to hope that maybe being in a relationship would cause him to think twice before getting himself in situations like these, no matter how much he assured her he knew what he was doing?

one day, as much as she hoped it wouldn’t be the case, she feared there’d be something he failed to account for. one day, he'd go missing, and no one would be able to find him, and it'd stay that way. she feared one day they wouldn't be so lucky as to find him bleeding out in an alleyway when there was still a chance to save him.

but there she went again, being angry at dazai, then being angry at herself for being angry at him, and then shoving down her feelings before she even had the time to process them. because she didn’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who always plagued and worried about her boyfriend, but she couldn’t help it when her boyfriend quite literally wanted and was trying to kill himself.

everyone she had talked to had agreed that it wasn’t wrong of her to feel worried about her partner and that they would support her if she decided to distance herself from him for her own sake, but she could never bring herself to do that. if anything, to be completely honest, she’d rather she die with him than leave him to die on his own. 

maybe she was weird or morbid for thinking that way. maybe she needed to seek help. but all she knew was that she truly loved him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. maybe their entire relationship was just temporary for him and he didn’t want to die with her at his side. maybe death was something sacred for him that he wanted to experience alone, or she just wasn't the perfect one for him and he was still looking for that "special one." she wasn’t entirely sure what his thoughts were on the concept, or what he really, truly thought of her. she didn't know if she was really of any value to him.

maybe she could figure it out for herself. maybe she was a horrible, terrible, awful girlfriend for not knowing what her boyfriend thought of committing suicide with her, but she had no idea. she wasn't sure what was okay for her to bring up, and what wasn't. how was one supposed to go about asking their partner's opinion on a double suicide? she had been frozen by this fear as she stood outside her hospital door, but it was something that had been on her mind long before now. the fear of bringing up something that might ruin their relationship started even before they were dating; with even the thought of confessing her feelings. even though she'd gotten past that, it never became easier bringing up touchy subjects with him, out of fear of triggering something without the intention to.

she had been stuck outside his door for more than ten minutes since she'd been left by a nurse to open his door and check on him. she was unsure of what to think of herself, and what to do. her hand was fisted and raised, ready to knock but then she decided ‘i’m the first person on his emergency contacts list. i don’t need to knock; he’s mine. he probably wants to see me. i’m his.’  

she swung the door open.

what was she doing with her face? what was she supposed to be saying? why had she decided to come in so abruptly? she should have knocked after all. she was reminded of the fact that she was not enough to stop osamu from wounding up in a hospital in the first place. she didn't have any right to barge in like this.

then, all of her worries melted away when he turned away from the window to see who’d entered his room and his face softened.

“[y/n],” he whispered, and she saw his bandaged hands loosen their grip on the sheets he'd been holding. his shoulders dropped, and his whole demeanor seemed to relax.

“osamu,” she called his name back, letting her body do what felt normal. she was glad it had a sense of what to do, because she felt like she was at a loss for words. if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure if a tone of concern or of anger would come out. 

she took a seat in the chair pulled up to the side of his bed, loosely intertwining her fingers with his nearby hand. the bandages that adorned his skin didn’t bother her. in fact, she was often overcome with an urge to kiss over every inch of his body and tell him how beautiful he was. the hospital gown he wore was what bothered her; she thought everything about him was beautiful and she couldn’t stand the thought that there’d be a scar on his body because of her. because she hadn’t done a good enough job of telling him how loved and important he was. that he didn’t think of himself nor her as important enough to keep himself out of danger.

her lips were pressed into a grim line as she ran a thumb over his knuckles. she wished he would eat more.

“everything go well with the surgery?” she asked, talking softly as if the silent atmosphere in the room was fragile.

he hummed in response, “yeah, they took good care of me. i should be good to leave by tomorrow afternoon.”

her head perked up at the answer, “that soon already? are you sure?”

“yep! as long as i take it easy, they’ll let me go tomorrow which is good. thing are tense between the mafia and agency right now. ranpo and kunikida are fine, but we'll have to work together with them against the one who caused all this, and i’m the only one who can faciliate that.” 

she liked it when he explained everything to her, it made her feel helpful, as if at least he could share his thoughts with someone else rather than keeping them all wound up in his head. she nodded along, trying to push down the concerns she had for him. the mafia wasn’t always nice to work with; even if dazai was right and their cooperation was the best course of action, that didn’t mean they would agree to it–at least not without a fight.

“you are going to take it easy when you’re discharged. right?” she gave him a look, in which he gave her a wry smile in return.

“of course i will, bella! who do you think i am? and i’ll have you, my guardian angel to make sure of it, won’t i?” he laughed, squeezing her hand as he talked boldly.

it had been easy for her to forget that he would want her by his side but the reminder made her smile, “you’re right. i'll be there to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again.” she almost added something else to her sentence but the "again" spoke well for itself, she thought. she didn’t want to ruin the mood so she kept it vague and her mouth shut. dazai looked at her expectedly, as if he was waiting for her to say something else but she only smiled at him, “i think i’m going to go take a walk real quick, just to clear my head. is that okay? i’ll be back soon.” she made an excuse as she stood up, turning to walk towards the door of his room before a hand gripped her wrist, pulling her backward.

she yelped as she fell onto the bed, flush with his chest. she could feel and hear the groan he let out when she hit his torso and on reflex tried to push off of him to lighten the pressure on his wound but his grip remained strong around her wrist, pulling her closer.

the prick of pain that shot through his stomach was a small price to pay for having his girlfriend on his chest, where he had wanted her from the moment she’d walked through the door. he wrapped his arms around her back, keeping her secure and from escaping his arms.

she allowed herself to be held in his arms, knowing it was useless to try to fight it now. she sighed, trying to enjoy the moment as her ear rested against his chest, allowing her to hear his heartbeat while she looked out the hospital window to the orange colored sky. 

“why take a walk away from me?” he mumbled playfully, nose buried in her hair. when she didn't respond, he placed a gentle hand on both sides of her face, tenderly guiding her head up to look her in his eyes; warm, chocolate-brown pools of adoration.

this is pathetic.

how did she come in here upset and worried about him and end up being the one comforted?

“you’re thinking too much in that pretty head of yours, angel. you’re thinking way too much about things way out of your control. that isn’t good. i can’t let you worry yourself to death like this, love. you gotta let me know what’s up. pretty please?” his voice was soft and pleading, but she winced at the mention of the word death, averting her eyes from him, instead opting to lay her head back on his chest, focusing on the steady rhythm inside of it. it was the surest sound in the world, the only thing she felt that could silence her head at the moment.

“sorry, angel,” he brushed a hand through her hair again, “didn’t mean to upset you, but i can tell, you know. and it makes me worried. i want to know what’s upsetting you so much.”

“says you,” she replied, huffing in frustration. he waited for her to continue, and she did, “you think you’re worried? i’m worried. about you! you’re the problem.” his fingers stopped moving at the mention of him. 

“‘don’t worry about me,’ i can already tell what you're about to say. ‘yes i know i was shot but don’t worry it was all part of an elaborate plan i didn’t tell you about after promising to try to communicate better,’” she mimicked him, trying to explain to him her point. she feels the hum in his chest as he processes her words and starts to grasp it. “it’s just– i’m sorry if that’s mean. and i’m sorry for worrying because you don’t need that added to your plate, but i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you this at the start because i don’t want to overstep your boundaries or give you one more thing to fix. i don’t care much about you breaking your promise to communicate better because it’s a lot to ask and it can’t always be done. i know you’ve had a difficult past and i don’t mind, osamu. i’m not mad, all i want is for you to be safe. and i know that’s a lot to ask from a suicidal man and that’s why i don’t know where i have a say in all of this– but i love you and it hurts for me to see you put yourself in danger so carelessly without telling anyone, as if i’m not enough to make you think twice before injuring yourself. sometimes– sometimes it feels like i’m just something for you to toy with before you die. something for you to entertain yourself with before you inevitably end up leaving. and i don’t want you to leave. i don’t want you to die, or at the very least without me– but i also know that’s nearly impossible to ask of you.”

he had started to rub her scalp as some sort of apology while she’d explained her feelings to him, and she still couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. she felt pathetic and weak with the tears in her eyes, and even worse when they began to slip from her eyes, no doubt seeping through his shirt and bandages. “you have every right and place to say whatever you would like, bella.” he spoke up after a beat of silence as he thought. still, it didn’t make her feel any better. he could just be saying what he knew she wanted to hear, but what she wanted was the truth. how much time did she have left with him? how much was she worth? was he leaving soon?

“you're the closest person to me and you deserve to say whatever you would like and to know what’s going on. i love you, too,” she could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said those words which made her face turn red as she turned away from the window to hide it in his hospital gown. her own confession had slipped out of her without a second thought, but she hadn’t meant for this to be a serious moment of testing how much he loved her. “i wouldn’t have agreed to try to change if i didn’t want to, but that’s why i made you that promise. i do want to change and be better for you, whatever that entails. i’d rather talk to you about my plans even if you don’t like them so that you know what’s going on rather than leaving you in the dark. because i never want you to feel like you’re just a toy or anything of the sort. you’re so much more than that, bella, and i should show as much. i’ve been and am forever grateful for your love and patience, [y/n]. i don’t deserve either. ask whatever you want of me and i will do it. will you give me another chance, my angel?”

“of course,” she mumbled in response, nuzzling and kissing the center of his chest, finally feeling the truth and love behind his words spread through her body like a warm fire. “i love you,” she whispered, not expecting him to hear it.

“i love you too,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her scalp.

a noise from the window made them both jump as they turned to see a spotted orange cat with a sardine in its mouth waiting outside. it was posed too well to be a normal cat, and the pair shared a glance as she moved to start to get off of him.

“do you want to come along with me this time, bella?”

“always.”

[ofloveandstardust]

A/N: I saw that Cain and Abel aren't like present in the show and I know they're technically Adam and Eve's kids, but let me have this please— I just wanna gush about this since it's been invading my mind.

cw: fem!reader (no pronouns, but reader is called wife/mama/mommy/mother)

Imagine: Being Adam's wife and having two sons with him.

I can definitely see him being excited over having sons. Like, hell yeah! But but but also— I have this feeling in my gut that he'd be okay with being a girl dad, sooo after having your sons he's just like "Wifey, Sugartits, Babycakes—" Any nickname under the sun until you finally ask him what he wants and he just says he wants a daughter.

You can't tell me he didn't name Abel— and 💀 It's even funnier since Abel does have a little more resemblance of his father than Cain does. Cain was named by you and looks more like you. However, you can say his attitude is similar to Adam's. I can see them both having Adam's eyes when thinking up of how they'd look, but I'm leaving things up in the air. Just for this, because I think it'd be neat, the boys are twins. Cain is the older twin while Abel is the younger one.

Cain is kind of a menace...but still a good kid. He always pulls that "Because I'm the oldest" card with Abel and if he ever whacked his brother and he started crying, Cain immediately does that thing where the sibling just panics and stops them from crying or else he's getting in trouble with mama and papa. He teases his younger brother, but will get upset if anyone tries to bully Abel. Oh, but the biggest menace he is towards? Adam. Cain doesn't hate his dad at all. No, he just prefers you more and lowkey is a mama's boy. Adam can have Mr. Perfect (Abel), but he at least has mama.

Then Adam just straight up has beef with his own son 💀 Because Cain takes up your time and he swears the little shit is taunting him when you're not looking. Cain comes up when you and Adam are kissing or anything like that, holding his hands up like, "I want Mama's kisses too... 🥺" You can't resist because that's your baby and he's so adorable. There's this stare down between Adam and Cain...meanwhile Abel, being the good bean that he is, waddles towards you all and goes, "Mama! Papa! Look what I drew! :D" and it's just a sweet little drawing of him, his brother, you and Adam.

Speaking of Abel, he's a good boi. Cain calls him Mr. Perfect sometimes because Abel has some natural talent. He's especially good with music, much to Adam's delight. Still, he looks up to his brother and despite Cain's jealousy, they do get along nicely. They have this little game where they're building their own city and decide over several elements of it. Abel somehow always brings sheep into the mix, but his brother isn't complaining.

Abel doesn't play favorites and says he loves you and Adam equally. He always wants to make sure the two of you are present at the same time when showing his accomplishments or what he's found. Speaking of which, he has special interests that last for a while until he moves on to another one or some just last a very long time. An example would be sheep, as mentioned before. He even has a lamb plushie (I can see him watching Lamb Chop's Play Along and loving the show). Cain knows how precious this little lamb is to Abel and will raise chaos if it ever gets lost or stolen (he calls the plush "The Chosen").

Here's a funny little thing: the boys not recognizing Adam in the mask he wears. From the day they were born, they always saw their father without his mask and have grown used to seeing his actual face. One day, they ask you where he was and you tell them it's work related but he'll be back to teach them some new songs. Just imagine Adam coming back, calling out that he's home, which cause the boys to rush up to him. Then they just stop because... "Mama, who's this stranger in our house!?" Abel literally starts crying— saying this isn't papa. Meanwhile Cain's mind immediately says violence is the answer (thanks, Adam). You have to calm both boys down and explain to them about the mask.

Flight lessons are stressful. It all started when Cain began jumping off of the furniture and escalated to him jumping off the bunk bed (because it'd be adorable for them to have bunk beds). So, it seems like it was time to show the boys how to use their wings. It's harder than it looks. Abel isn't okay with jumping off from anywhere unless Cain is going to jump with him. Fine with his brother because he enjoys doing this. Eventually, they're able to fly and it's a joy! They can fly around Heaven with you and Adam and it's absolutely adorable.

Cain and Abel have different ways to refer to you and Adam. Cain calls Adam 'dad' or 'papa' but does call him 'father' when he's upset or serious. Meanwhile, he calls you 'mama', 'mommy', or 'mom' (mom is more frequent when around others or strangers) and it's rare when he calls you mother. Abel just calls you two mama and papa. He'll only use mother and father if he's around people he doesn't know or meeting for the first time.

I have more thoughts about these little beans such as how they are around Lute (#1 and only Babysitter), Emily (Abel affectionately calls her Auntie Em), Sera and possibly Lucifer and Charlie (because you can't tell me Adam would not brag about having kids 💀). Like, I can see Cain being brutally honest when he first sees Lucifer because he's that type of kid. Will 100% make a comment about the man's height. There's also the fact that both boys are into music like their father. Abel once asked, "So if that's Queen, then who's the King?" when Adam tells them about Queen. Also, I can very much see Cain getting into gardening. If you want more of these then let me know!

[mournings-stars]

Alright so let's go with fluff for my fave angels Adam and lute

How would they react with their gf who's a magnet for kids?

Her ass would say that she's not fit to be a mom but kids immediately gravitate towards them and labels her as their mother figure, in mere minutes after they had met her

It'd be so adorable

"I don't know if I'll be a good mom." Then you see her giving a kid, whom she just met, piggy back rides. Like, they instantly trust her?? How????

i totally forgot this was in my drafts guys i swear im coming back LMFAOLO anyway this request is cute asl and i went a lil off topic but trust its still fluff

so first up we got adam

so adam is actually a kid person… once you’ve been around him a while

don’t get me wrong, he calls them “little shits” “gremlins” “hellspawn” whatever he can come up with, but he does want his own — like he was created for this… which when you think about it makes you a little more nervous because he would arguably be a good father in your eyes (idk ab arguably but just roll w me) just based off of this information right? you, on the other hand, weren’t made for this

“do you think i’d be a good mom?” you’d ask one day, totally out of the blue, and adam would probably choke on his own spit. “are you pregnant?” would be his first question, expression not giving away any kind of feeling he would have if you were. when you shake your head, he sighs and that makes you feel worse

but, like, it’s adam — he didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and he definitely thinks you’d be a good mom so after a while, sometime later that day, he’ll bring it up again cause he can tell you were overthinking things

“you know, if you were… yanno,” his eyes went to your stomach, “i’d be really fucking stoked.” and he kinda doesn’t know what you’re upset about, which is completely evident when he mentions how much of a milf you’d be before telling you how good of a mom you’d be, but at least he got there! and he made you laugh in the process

whenever you’re talking to an angel with a kid, adam will point out how the kids are always drawn to you; asking questions, talking with you, and even giving you hugs when you leave

he would not let you go on thinking you’re going to be a bad mom, like if you do ever express that you think you would be a bad mom, he’s not taking you seriously. “why don’t i put a baby in you and we can find out?” is his response, and, “adam!” is yours as he just shrugs

lute on the other hand

maybe you’re already working with kids, like you might work close with the church’s daycare or do some work (not teaching) at a school, so even though you don’t work directly with kids, you still see them often and that really makes you want a child of your own

when you tell lute this, you also tell her your worries about not being a good mom. at first she doesn’t say much, not wanting to invalidate your feelings… but she thinks they’re stupid

instead she talks to the daycare or school and sets you up with one of the programs after your usual shift, making another angel take the day off so that you had to cover for them on short notice

she’d come to bring you a snack in the middle of your shift and just see how good you are with the kids, reading to, playing with, and talking to them while they were just so drawn to you and wanting every bit of your attention

she’d definitely help you out, enjoying the opportunity to play house with you as you showed her what to do. then she’d stay until it was their nap-time. she didn’t bother saying what was obvious, knowing she’d proved your doubts wrong just by the way you smiled and laughed with the children

[ninii-winchester]

I don’t wanna live forever

Pairing : Demon!Dean X Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, demon dean, violence, language. Unedited

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you'd call

It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all

Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day

Y/n knew Dean getting the Mark of Cain was the most stupidest thing he's ever done, taking into consideration that he's Dean Winchester and he's done plenty of stupid in his life. Part of her wants to strangle Crowley for getting him into that mess but part of her knew that Dean would've done whatever it'd take to take down Abbadon. She didn't think it'd bring them here to this day where Dean would turn into a demon and leave the bunker for good. He's with Crowley and God knows where.

A knock on the door breaks her away from her thoughts. She looks up to see Sam standing in the doorway.

"Glaring at the walls of his room won't bring him back Y/n." He said sympathetically. He knew she was hurting as much as he was. After-all they both love Dean.

"What am I supposed to do, Sam." She sounded defeated. "I've tried calling him a thousand times and he doesn't answer."

"We're doing the best we can and we will bring him back, you know that." Sam replied walking towards her and sitting on the bed. "You know we always do." 

"Part of me thinks he doesn't want to come back, its like there's no point hoping." She felt herself tear up. "The mark is overpowering him."

"Hey don't think about it. Our Dean is still in there. We'll bring him back." Sam looked at her face. She looked tired. "Y/n you haven't slept in days. You should get some rest."

"Yeah."

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain

And I don't wanna fit wherever

I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

It's been days since Dean left and Y/n has had enough. She knows Sam's been torturing demons to find out Dean and Crowley's location but she can't just sit around anymore. She'll do whatever it takes to find him even if it's illegal. She opens up her laptop and hacks into the traffic signal camera's all over the country. She runs a facial recognition of Dean's face and the Impala's license plate. She crossed her fingers hoping it does it thing soon because the longer she stays on the site the more risk she's at getting into trouble. Although the bunker is untraceable they can't afford the feds on their ass.

The screen loads successfully and she jumps in happiness. The Impala last crossed a traffic signal three towns over. She didn't know when Sam would return so she didn't wait for him. She quickly changed into her Fed suit and drove towards her destination.

Knowing Dean, he's probably at some bar, she shortlisted the bars across that town and hoped she'd find him in one of those. She visited two bars and much to her dismay he hadn't been there. However at the third bar, she didn't find him but she found a clue.

"That man? Yeah he was here a few hours ago, got into fight with another guy. Beat him to a pulp so had to kick him out." The bartender said while cleaning the countertop.

"Any idea where he went?" She asked with hope.

"There's another bar ten minutes from here, you can check there." She tipped the man, thanking him for his help.

"Agent." He called out behind her, she turned to him, "be careful out there, that man's feral." She nodded and left

the place.

She walked in the inside the bar and it was almost empty considering it's pretty early in the day. She noticed a figure sitting at the bar top and immediately recognised him.

"Dean." She called out softly. He turned to look at her but then he turned again focusing on his drink. She said his name again and moved towards him but was stopped by an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Oh Vixen found her Squirrel. Didn't bring Moose along?" The voice spoke in a Scottish accent.

"Fuck off Crowley." She replied glaring at the man in the black suit.

"You wound me, darlin." He sassed. "Dean doesn't wanna go back so why can't you two blithering idiots.... LET HIM GO."

"I'm not fucking around here." She pulled out her gun pointing it at him, she removed the safety. "Let me talk to him. Alone."

"Your guns don't work on me." He replied smugly.

"I wouldn't be so sure." She challenged, knowing she'd carved the devils trap into the bullets. She knew she'd never have the heart to use it on Dean but Crowley is a different matter. The short man rolled his eyes and poofed away. She made her way towards Dean and sat beside him.

"Dean.." she said his name ever so softly just the way she always did. He didn't even turn to look her continuing to pour drink after drink in his glass. "Baby, let's go home." She moved her hand to put on top of his. He raised his brow at the gesture.

"I'm telling you this once. Leave." Dean moved his hand away and looked at her. No trace of a smile on his face, the smile she had come to love.

"No, I won't leave here without you. Come back home." She partially begged. "I don't wanna live without you, Dean. Please come home with me."

He stood up, his laugh resonating through the empty bar. She looked at him, hurt written all across her face. She knew this wasn't her Dean but seeing him act this way didn't hurt any less. She walked right in front of him as he stopped laughing.

"What's funny huh?" Anger bubbled inside her.

"Oh nothing." He shrugged, an evil smile appeared on his face. "You said you wouldn't leave here without me, yeah?" He asked rhetorically circling around her. "And you said you can't live without me either." He paused, dramatically thinking for a second.

"Dean.."

"How about I kill you then, right here, right now." He said stopping in front of her with a blade knife. "It'll be so much fun, for me." Y/n took a deep breath, her gun clutched in her hand tightly. "For you though..." he drawled with a chuckle.

"I don't wanna hurt you Dean." She replied.

"I don't think you can, even if you want to." Dean smirked evilly. "Last chance. Leave."

"I'm not going anywhere." She said. "Not without you."

"I'm gonna have so much fun." Dean scoffed before he grabbed her by the neck, choking her. She tried pushing his hand away but she was having a hard time. She kicked him the stomach making him loosen his grip but not completely let go. He threw the against the bar top, she groaned as fell. Her gun falling from her hand.

"This isn't you Dean." She coughed getting up.

"I told you to leave." Dean threw a punch but she moved out of way and his hand smashed a bottle. She punched him the jaw and he recoiled. He pushed her to ground and straddled her waist. He pinned her arms above her head in one of his hands, immobilising her.  The mark on his arm itched and he brought the knife to her throat. He pressed it and watched as blood trickled down the column of her neck.

"Do it." She said looking at him.

"I'll take my time with it." Dean replied smugly. Her scratched her cheek with the blade. He then moved it down to her collarbone and she screamed in pain. His lips formed into a sinister smile.

Y/n took a deep breath. She wasn't sure if Dean forgot that she mostly fights with her legs or was it his cocky demonic self that made him leave her legs completely unattended. She brought her legs upwards and hooked her them around his waist, catching him off guard and flipping him off her. That seemed to have pissed him off. 

She made a run for her gun but he was able to slash her side before she got her hands on the weapon. She gasped, her right hand touching the wound while she gripped her gun in her left.

"You're pathetic, you know you can't win yet you try so hard." Dean growled closing in on her. "But now I'm bored." He grabbed her left arm and twisted it until a crack was heard. She screamed as the gun fell from her hand. He picked it up and pointed at her head. He pulled the trigger without even blinking.

Y/n blinked as she felt herself being moved from her place. And then she heard a gunshot. Turns out Crowley moved her last minute before Dean fired. She watched Dean wide eyed, unable to process that he was going to kill her. She's alive not because he didn't want to kill her but because Crowley intervened.

"Why did you-" she barely let out but Crowley had disappeared but this time with Dean.

I'm sitting eyes wide open and I got one thing stuck in my mind

Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

Back at the Bunker, Y/n had her arm in a cast, the wound on her side stitched up and bandages all over her. She had taken painkillers for the physical pain but she doesn't know how to sooth her hollow heart.

She laid on Dean's bed and stared at the ceiling, unmoving. A knock resonated at the door and it opened a few seconds later.

"If you're here to tell me I was stupid and reckless. Save it." She said without removing her eyes from the ceiling.

"I know you just wanted him back." Sam replied.

"He's gone, Sam." A tear slipped from her eye. She sat up and looked at the younger Winchester "He wasn't my Dean." Before she knew her body shook and sobs escaped her lips. "Makes me wonder if I dodged the bullet or just lost the love of my life."

Sam sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her as much as he could without hurting her. "After everything that's happened, you still?" Sam trailed off not knowing how to continue.

"I told you Sam he wasn't my Dean. My Dean would rather die than hurt me. Of course I love him." She whispered in his chest. "It hurts to think of what he's become, so much more than these wounds could ever hurt."

"Dean's lucky you chose him. I'm sure he'll agree when he comes back." Sam assured her. "I won't give up on him. He's my brother. I'll bring him back for you. For us." Sam promised and he hoped he could keep that promise.

Part 2

[milliesfishes]

Millie hope you are well! Had a request idea! Was thinking about the idea of sweet innocent reader still being so protective of Billy. (And he’s even more protective of her obviously!) and maybe! maybe! when they are going to bed one night she’s like “don’t worry I won’t let anything get to you they’d have to go through me first” and he’s just like 🥹 cause she couldn’t hurt a fly but it’s the sentiment

this is short but :) needed some feel-good

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou're protective over billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Billy always shifted into a different mindset whenever you were with him.

You were his sweetheart, the one thing truly worth having in this world, and therefore he was always on alert when you were in public with him. Besides wanting to protect you, he was well aware of what being seen with him could mean. There were folks out there who wouldn't stop and think about what a kind, lovely girl you were. All they saw was your connection to him.

He was subtle about it, or he tried to be. Always scanning the perimeter, making sure no threats were looming on the horizon. Anyone who decided it'd be a good idea to threaten his girl was a dead man on sight. You were blissfully unaware as far as he knew, always chattering happily with your hand slipped into the crook of his elbow.

One look into your eyes, one touch, one call of his name and he'd melt, all his attention on you. Billy swore you made him better just by being near him. So in return, he saved only for you all the softest parts of himself.

The gentlest kisses. The softest touches. You got everything the world didn't. Billy was very careful with you, terrified that he would make a wrong move and you would slip between his fingers and he'd be left to dream. But everything he did only seemed to draw you closer.

"That was my first kiss," you confessed softly after the first time he'd touched his lips to yours. Billy's heart swelled a little at your admittance, and he cupped your cheeks, kissing your forehead. It was at that moment that he knew what a treasure you were, and how safe he'd keep you. The fact that you'd trusted him with a first meant more to him than he could ever say.

He eased you into everything slowly, making sure you were comfortable, double checking with each move. Billy could see the difference between you before and after and it only made him want to protect you more.

You were different when you were taken care of. Your smile was brighter, your demeanor more relaxed. You seemed happy, and Billy was determined to keep it that way. His sweet girl deserved it. The best, because you were the best.

He began bringing you along for nearly everything except work, sitting you in front of him on his horse and riding around the surrounding area, to run errands. You would lean happily against his chest, playing with his hand on your waist, accepting the kisses he pressed to your head with a sweet smile.

There was no doubt in his mind about loving you. How could he ever do any different. Eventually he found a little cabin secluded enough to settle into, and you were a frequent visitor there. Billy had discovered that his favorite thing in the world was holding you while you slept, and he wanted to do it as much as possible.

It was the fact that you were even able to sleep around him. That your body allowed itself to be unconscious, that you felt safe enough to do so. Billy would bundle you in blankets and kiss your nose, holding you close until your eyes grew sleepy. He swore he couldn't go even a week without it.

"C'mere," Billy murmured one night, slipping into bed and reaching for you. Once you settled into his chest, he pulled a blanket over your back, kissing your forehead. "There we go. All comfy now."

"Billy?" You murmured it half into his chest.

He looked down, rubbing your back gently. "You okay, baby?"

"Mhm." You sat up a little, elbow on his chest. He smiled slightly, looking up at you, hand still stroking up your lower back.

"I'm gonna look out for you," you murmured, nuzzling into him. "People are so mean to you Billy."

"That's okay, angel," he said quietly, holding his lips to your hair. "It's okay."

"Uh uh." You shook your head, resting your chin on your arm. "They have to go through me, Billy. Nobody can be mean to you."

That brought a smile to his face, imagining his sweetheart telling someone off for badmouthing him. But he didn't laugh, only leaned down to kiss you gently. "Thank you, baby. That's very good of ya."

"You're welcome," you said proudly, snuggling close with your head on his shoulder. Billy let himself smile wider once your eyes were closed, and he hid it in your hair anyways.

He truly didn't know what he would do without you.

[cherrygirlfriend]

ice cold pairing: stanford!bsf!art donaldson x iceskater!reader synopsis: you injure your foot while ice skating, your best friend takes care of you. warnings: fluff! wc: 700 this is very me coded because i literally slipped and injured my foot to the point i couldn't walk properly for two weeks. or the time i fell down the stairs and broke my ankle. bottom line is; i'm as clumsy as the mc of a wattpad story. originally posted 12/19/2024

being on ice felt almost like a second nature to you, and art loved watching you skate, whether it was for an ice show or for a skating competition, watching your white skates almost blending in with the ice as you turned, spun, and jumped in a way that caused his heart to jump in his chest so naturally, he thought that it'd be a great idea to take you out to a skating rink.

you blew on the hot chocolate you held in your hands, covered by a pair of white mittens decorated with adorable pink snowflake patterns, "you do know that i skate every day?" you said with a chuckle, your brows raised and your cheeks stinging from the cold.

"yeah, but you never skate with me." he shrugged, sitting down to put his skates on his feet; honestly, he was sure he was going to fall, not having gone ice skating since he was a teenager himself; he actually had to borrow patrick's ice skates. luckily, they shared the same shoe size.

"have you thought it's because i skate every day?"

"yeah, but you play tennis with me." he quipped back, making you roll your eyes, "i just thought it'd be a fun idea!"

"it is a fun idea." you shrugged, finishing the last of the hot-now-lukewarm chocolate, before placing the mug down, starting to put on your own skates, ones you always wore when you practiced, "i just like giving you shit for no reason."

"of course you do." he chuckled, the two of you making small talk as you tied your respective skates to your feet, hoping the warm liquid would soon start taking effect and warm up your body.

you rose to your feet, holding your hand out to your boyfriend expectantly, "are you ready to embarrass yourself and fall flat on your ass, donaldson?"

"we'll see who's falling flat on their ass."

"did you put a curse on me, or something?" you mumbled, letting out a hiss as you tried to step on your swollen ankle, art stuttering and trying to get you to stop as he sat you down on the bench next to the rink and took off your skate along with wool sock, a nasty, purple spot starting to form on your ankle. "how bad is it?" you asked, and art could tell how desperate you were feeling, how badly you were hoping, praying it wasn't broken.

it all happened in a split second. you'd been doing a pirouette, something you did tens, if not hundreds, of times a day, and suddenly, you were on the ground.

"i'm pretty sure it's just twisted." art said, both of you letting out nearly identical sighs of relief. art, for your health, and you, for your skating.

"thank god." you sighed, "i haven't gotten properly injured while skating since i was, like, thirteen. i have no idea how this happened.

"maybe you just deserved to fall on your ass." art shrugged, causing you to roll your eyes and smacking his arm while exclaiming that he wasn't funny.

the moment you got home, art basically carried you onto the couch while you kept complaining that you were going to be fine, that his fussing wouldn't do any good, but the blonde immediately put three throw pillows under your foot and bringing an ice pack wrapped in a towel, placing it on your slightly swollen ankle.

"i think you should get this checked tomorrow, just in case." art sighed, "i'm just worried-"

you took his hand, bringing it to your lips and placing a small kiss to the back of it, art's eyes widening slightly, "what was that for?"

"for being fussy."

"obviously." he rolled his eyes, "i'm gonna put on some tea, and we can watch anything you want."

"anything?" you asked with a small grin, making him shake his head.

"i'm not watching another low-budget horror movie."

"you said anything!"

and before he knew it, your foot was on art's lap, an ice pack over it as he massaged your ankle, a half-drunk cup of tea, christmas cookies and a bottle of aspirin placed next to the sofa as you snored while cuddling up to a pillow, art's stanford hoodie covering you, while the blonde was trying to ignore hostel still playing on tv, instead focusing on watching your serene face.

[magpie-lu-aside]

So. About that shadow crystal and the Master Sword. (All art belongs to @linkeduniverse and JoJo!)

I want to discuss this part because I find Four, Wind, and Legends reactions interesting, specifically because it was those three who had the argument over Twi in the first place. An argument that all three of them seem to not want to bring up again at all.

I've seen some posts saying that Four and Twilight are gonna have a talk about it (and I'm sure they will) but I'm wondering if they're gonna have a talk about the argument again too. (post got long, if you want to read more its under the cut)

(takes place in sunset pt 11)

So here's the thing about The Argument™. Four and Legend are the ones to have an opinion on the crystal itself, with Wind being more concerned about Twilight's status at that moment and wondering if the blood (not the crystal) is what could corrupt him. Wind seems to be almost unconcerned about the crystal which is why I think he was excited about the transformation rather than concerned (Four) and.... Whatever Legend is doing (I'll get back to that).

Legend and Wind also almost immediately put the argument behind them. They ran to find a great fairy fountain....

... And have interacted past this point. And I think that's because overall they agree on this, both of them have trust in the Master Sword to nullify whatever corrupting power the crystal could theoretically have.

But Four and Legend on the other hand? They have not talked to each other one on one since then.

Before this, they teased each other, Four trusted him to work on Wilds sword, and they seemed fine to be in each others space and just talk and conspire a little bit. But now? They barely even speak to each other even within the group. In fact when they do interact in a group both seem... not fully annoyed but not really laughing at each others jokes either.

Also despite the fact Legend was on the team to work on Wild's sword in the beginning, he didn't show up in the towns blacksmith to help either. And while its very easily argued he did that to stay with Twilight, based on this reaction,

He was asked or at least knew they were doing it. He was also fine spoiling the surprise to Wild despite it being mainly Fours gift (and symbol of forgiveness). He refused to join either way, and I think it could both be because he wanted to be by Twilight and also because he just... Didn't really want to interact with Four.

Now to bring it back to Legends reaction to the transformation (told you it'd come back). I don't think Legend particularly likes the crystal (who can blame him really) and I think he's with Four on not really liking the magic, so unlike Wind who's excited to see it hes still a little.. Iffy on the magic itself. And I think that still can cause tension, but that's more of a red herring to the real thing that's causing strife... And that's the Master Sword itself.

Legend and Four didn't argue over the crystal. They argued about the Master Sword. I think the shadow crystal was just the tipping point to get them talking about the Sword and make Four oppose it in some way. Four has always been indifferent to the sword, not really willing to wield it and has been absent from discussing it. But after that? I think with Four and Legend being on opposing sides, along with Time and Sky (whole other discussion I cant delve into cuz good god this post is long enough as is) is leading me into thinking that the next arc is going to delve more into that strife. And its going to be harder to overcome than Twilight being injured.

tl;dr I think Four and Legend still have beef after sunset pt 11 and its going to boil over on them and its their inability to discuss the Master Sword like normal peoples fault.

[good-beans]

I would love to hear what you think of the recent milgram update and what it means for the story

Waahh thanks for the excuse to chat pal!! I have so many thoughts :') First off, let it be known that I'm SAD. These deaths tore my heart out and it's going to be rough knowing the characters are gone next trial.

However, from a writer's perspective, if you'll allow me to gush a bit... 👀

So, I always believed that Es would have prisoners' deaths on their hands and be judged themself, but I assumed it'd be from finale executions. I was shocked so many were killed off early, but it actually does follow the setup Yamanaka established (no matter how many incidents, three were injured badly during the first hiatus, so raising the stakes, three would die the next.) And doing it a trial early gives us way more time to reflect on these feelings -- rather than hold executions and be done, we're now forced to see the hole these people leave behind, see the emotions and mourning that follow that, see how everybody's view of them becomes twisted in death and recollection.

And the method of these deaths adds so much to the reflection/themes the audience feels. Execution deaths would have carried the theme of the Milgram experiment (would you cause harm because an authority figure told you to?) but that's it. These bring us so very close with the prisoners' cases.

We see Haruka’s death and find ourselves experiencing Mahiru’s horror: "I knew about his intention to, but surely someone would have stopped him! I thought he was bluffing! If it was his choice, was it really my fault?" We hear Kazui’s voice: "it wasn't supposed to be a grand betrayal, I was just being honest. I didn't think my truth about someone else would make them to that..."

In Shidou’s death we find ourselves making the same justifications as Muu, John, Kotoko, and even kind of Shidou himself: "there was someone I was trying to protect. I wanted to save both, but it couldn't be helped. It was one or the other, that's what the world gave me and that's what I worked with. I protected the one I deemed weaker/more precious to me, is that so wrong?"

When we want to cry about Mahiru and say, "it's unfair, we didn't know the stakes would be raised when we made our vote in trial one! They didn't warn us until trial two!" we only sound like Fuuta: "it's unfair! I was just doing something normal online! Sure I knew it would cause emotional harm, but I had no idea she was going to die!"

And even people who disagreed with the current vote find themselves in the prisoners' shoes. People who wanted to prevent Kotoko/Amane’s actions with a guilty vote can feel (depending on your interpretation, Yuno,) Muu, Mikoto, and Kotoko's motivation for themselves: "I knew the situation. I knew what I was doing. Things would have gotten worse if I didn't intervene. It's important to intervene when you know how things will end up.

So on one hand, it makes us extremely sympathetic to the prisoners by feeling their same motivations and regret. On the other hand, if we've gotten too soft, this simultaneously reminds us of how horrible they are. It was easy to forgive when the victims were half-hidden, faceless, and nameless. But now, we're reminded that all 10 victims were cherished by others just as we cherished Haruka, Shidou, and Mahiru. Even Kotoko's victim must have been -- how can we write him off as a universally hated criminal when we're mourning three people who murdered very knowingly? It becomes both easier and harder to offer our forgiveness now going into final verdicts.

And lastly, we hear Yuno's voice (as well as the point of the whole project) as we approach final judgments: neither innocent nor guilty is a good vote. Judgment in another's business will never help anyone. Guilying one and forgiving another can get someone killed. Guiltying two people to prevent them from causing harm can get someone killed. Naming two innocent in the hope it heals them can get someone killed. Though the project does encourage us to forgive others, these deaths acknowledge that in the real world, being wholly accepting of everything still won't work -- people will still get hurt. Black-and-white systems hurt everyone involved, we need to seek out the gray area and choose kindness rather than just a kind judgment, since there's no such thing.

And one last thing in line with that -- the deaths drive home the running theme that no choice, no matter how well-intentioned, can be taken back. I believe the "route" title only refers to this version so that they can release a full cast version of the song (maybe on the milgram anniversary) that exists outside of the story. Injuries can heal. Even losing an eye can be recovered from. But giving us completely permanent consequences is important in a project reminding people to act carefully to all those they interact with.

Okay I've already talked a lot addghj so I won't go into too much detail, but it also highlights the themes about humans being social creatures and no situation is truly isolated. You can't examine any of the prisoner cases individually because they're so interconnected with people who were just recently strangers. Shidou got two inno votes -- in an isolated situation he should be doing great! But like the crimes themselves, we must pay attention to the relationships and emotions that drive a situation forward rather than just it's physical logistics.

---

I think my only issue with this choice is that it's going to really screw over the already screwed over women (Muu, Amane, and Kotoko are going to be slammed with hate and even less willingness to understand them as human beings) BUT that's not Yamanaka's fault -- it has and will always be the fans'.

[heavenlycloud]

quit: park sooyoung x fem! reader

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

cw// toxic relationships, HEAVY smut, swearing, situationships / fwb, manipulation, crying, NSFW again

men and minors dni!

a/n: i saw this pic of joy while looking for new layout pics and i couldn't help but let my mind wander...plus i've been dying to write something for this song. i'm still getting used to writing nsfw so pls be nice :) feedback would be greatly appreciated since this is my first time posting nsfw on my blog

and you say that i'm the devil you know and i don't disagree. no, i don't see the harm...they say, "you crazy, just leave him, he'll suffocate you" but i wanna be in your arms...

everyone in your friend circle warned you about her. they told you she would do more harm than good. they said she's not genuine, that she's only after one thing, sex. it'd be a lie if you said you didn't believe them because you knew getting involved with her was a disaster waiting to happen. however, there was something about her that was so addicting and you weren't ready to give up the drug that she was...you probably never will be. she's just that damn good.

they say, "no, don't pick up the phone, let them think there's nobody home" but i'm under your spell... 'cause when you call my heart starts to roll, i always want more, it's my heaven, my hell...

your bedroom window blew cool, night air into your apartment as you sat on your bed. you mindlessly ran your fingers along the cords of your electric guitar playing the first song that came to mind. surely the residents in the floors above and below you would complain about being woken up to kiss it better by rihanna, but you didn't care. it was well past one in the morning and you should've been asleep but here you were.

right as you finished the end of the chorus a muffled humming sound came from between your bed and pillows. you didn't even have to check to know who it was, and you definitely knew you shouldn't answer. all of your friends told you to ignore her calls, let her think you're not around so you ignored it. instead of calling again, you heard a loud knock at the front door of your apartment. ignoring the advice of everyone else and your own intuition, you got up and answered the door.

we're heading deep inside lives a voice, a voice so quiet. but i can't hear that voice when your heart beats next to mine...

sooyoung stood in the doorway looking like an abandoned puppy with her hair damp and wearing a sullen face. her eyes were red with her tearstained cheeks and swollen lips, "h-he broke up with me..." her voice cracked and she hiccupped between her words, the same ones you heard at least twice a month.

the opportunity to turn her away was still there but when she looked up at you with that same damn pout, it was over. without missing a beat you pulled her into your apartment and closed and locked the door behind you both. you led her to your room where your guitar and amp had been pushed off to a corner, leaving your bed open.

she walked into your arms and gripped onto the back of your shirt as she sobbed, "i-i hate him so much." you pulled her into your chest and agreed, "i do too." sooyoung pulled away from you and bunched her hands in the hem of your oversized t shirt, "i need you, y/n. please... "

i can't quit you, i can't quit you...yeah, i'm gonna regret it... know I'm gonna regret it.

god does she know exactly what to say especially with that stupid pout you always give into. you bring your hands up to hold her face, and gently wipe her tears away with your thumbs. sooyoung leaned into your touch and kissed the inside of one of your palms sweetly. you swiped your thumb across her lip slowly dragging the motion out and she sucked your finger into her mouth. her soft tongue swirled around your skin and you affirmed, "i'll make you feel better i promise. let me take care of you, baby."

when you said, "baby, i just want you to lay me down and we'll fuck the pain away" 'cause skin on skin, i feel nothing but the burning of desire and that's just foreplay...

you pressed your lips against sooyoung's and she melted into your touch with ease. her arms slipped from inside her jacket and you tossed it aside. you found the zipper on the back of her dress and unzipped it slowly, letting the material hang from her body before completely dropping to the floor. she stepped out of the skirt and kicked it aside to another spot on your floor. your lips pressed against her neck until you reached her collarbone where you stopped.

sooyoung whined at the loss of contact and you smirked to yourself in satisfaction. you stood behind her and lifted her chin with your finger to angle her gaze to your wall length mirror. sooyoung stared at herself right as you unclipped her bra and let it fall away. one hand rested on her waist while another on her shoulder. you ran your fingertips down her arm and she let out a soft gasp.

your breath ghosted her neck as you said, "look at how pretty you are." she shyly turned her face into your neck and one hand found your wrist as you moved your other one to her panties. the hand on her chest teased her breast, tugging at one of her nipples eliciting a high pitched sound from her, "a-aah." you smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, before holding her head up so she could see herself. your free hand slipped into her panties and with the lightest of touches, ghosted her dampened folds.

sooyoung squeezed her eyes shut and you clicked your tongue, "ah ah, look at your reflection. see how pretty you look?" her eyes slowly opened and you began rubbing slow circles around her heated center, ignoring where she needed it that most. sooyoung pleaded softly, "y/n...please." you hummed and dragged your thumb against her clit, making her knees buckle underneath her.

her weight rested on you and you smiled, "so needy and i haven't even done anything....do you know how much i love seeing you like this?" she didn't reply as you continued drawing patterns against her soaked pussy. she looked at you in the mirror and said, "y/n please." you slipped your hands from her panties and admired the sheen of slick. teasingly you brought them up to sooyoung's lips and watched her mouth fall open, just for you to lightly swipe her bottom lip and put your fingers in your own mouth.

you sucked her essence off of your fingers and hummed in satisfaction. watching as sooyoung pathetically licked her bottom lip for the smallest taste of herself, and feeling her sigh in relief against you. gently, you backed her against your bed and let her fall into the plush warmth. she was completely engulfed in your scent making her yearn for your touch even more. she looked up at you with those same doe eyes, searching for any signs of continuing your ministrations.

an airy gasp left her lips as you pressed the softest of kisses along her chest. you brushed your lips across one of her breasts and gently kissed one of her nipples while you free hand traced around the other. sooyoung let out a frustrated grunt as her chest pushed up for her hardened bud to meet your lips which only made you laugh. she breathed out, "please i need you..." you kissed the side of her breast and smiled, "you have me." she shook her head and repeated with more want, "no i need you to touch me."

looking up at her you pressed more kisses along her breast, swapping to the other before you asked, "where do you need me, baby?" sooyoung bit her lip as you sucked on her nipple and tugged on it with your teeth. when she didn't reply, you pulled away and started to move from atop her. in a panicked effort of desperation she snatched your hand into her own, and lowered it to her soaked heat, "here, i need you here." only then did you climb back over her and kiss down her toned abdomen, suckling marks and bites into her plush skin.

sooyoung spread her legs and let you settle between them, flinching slightly when your hand palmed her inner thighs. you ran your thumb over her heated flesh and nicked the surface with your teeth. by now you could smell how bad she wanted you and she was nearly shaking with desperation. just to put her on edge further, you kissed right against her folds, just missing where she wanted you most.

you coaxed smoothly, "tell me what you want, use your words, angel." sooyoung's voice came out just above a whisper as she said, "your mouth, please." heat flushed over her face when she looked down at you between her legs just in time to see you place a kiss to her clit. her hands flew to the top of your head just for you to slip one of your hands into her own.

the heat of your tongue against her molten center sent her eyes rolling to the back of her head. you laved through her folds hungrily tasting her as if she were the forbidden fruit from the heavenly garden. sooyoung breathily gasped and whined beneath you which sent a wave of confidence through your body. you let out a low moan, "you taste so good..." and it took everything in her to not let go right then and there. one of her hands fisted you soft bedsheets while the other squeezed onto yours, fingers intertwined with your own. when you gave her swollen bud another light suck she held her breath until she couldn't anymore. her body stuttered for a moment and a high pitched moan fell past her lips.

your fingers slipped into her heated core, helping her ride through her high before slowly kissing up her body to meet her lips. the taste of herself lingered on your tongue and filled her mouth, making her moan weakly. you brushed a piece of hair from her face and smiled softly, "my pretty girl." sooyoung's face twisted up at the nickname and she mumbled, "that's what he called me too..." immediately a pit of aggravation filled your stomach and you leaned closer to her, lips barely touching hers, "you're thinking of him when i'm right here?"

out of pure frustration you pushed her lightly away from you and started to get up, not knowing why you even bothered because she was always like this. no matter what you'd done in the past she always ran back to that bum ass man of hers. sooyoung grabbed your hand and pleaded, "no wait- please. y/n i'm sorry i just want you...it's always been you." she was too damn good at saying what you wanted to hear because no part of you genuinely believed her last words, yet you found yourself crawling back over her ready to make her mean what she said.

this time will be different.

we're heading deep inside lives a voice, a voice so quiet. but i can't hear that voice when your heart beats next to mine

you kissed her on her lips again and pushed her back down into your bed as she stared up at you. there was a specific hunger in your gaze that she'd never seen before that had her more excited than before.

i can't quit you, i can't quit you. yeah i'm gonna regret it, i know i'm gonna regret it

sooyoung's legs fell back open as you made your way back into the same spot before, kissing her swollen bud and laughing when she jumped. she rolled her head to rest on her shoulder and whined, "n-ngh i- wait i'm still sensitive..." you looked up at her through a hooded gaze, "i don't care. you look so beautiful under me." you connected your lips to her heated core and sucked harshly. her thighs closed around your head and you pushed them back open with enough force to make her whimper.

your fingers prodded at her entrance, your tongue dragging from her slit up to her engorged clit. sooyoung's hands violently fisted the sheets as she tried to hold out longer. but you were no match for her as you knew her body like the back of your hand. her second climax came and her sweet honey oozed from her center and onto your tongue. you sucked more into your mouth without wasting a drop before holding it there. she watched in near horror as you made your way up to her, tapping on her chin wordlessly.

sooyoung's lips parted and you stuck your sopping wet fingers into her mouth, drool running down her lips. when you withdrew them, you held her chin and tipped her head back slightly before spitting into her mouth. the mixture of your saliva and her slick filled her mouth, and she swallowed it without hesitation. your fingers massaged her soft pussy, making her begin to close her legs again. you looked down at her and said, "be good for me, open your legs." she followed your orders and squeezed her mouth shut as her thighs began to shake.

you looked at the tears that began to fill her eyes, only smiling and rubbing her center harder until her tears fell. she craned her neck up to meet her lips as you began to lean down, but instead you dragged your tongue along her smooth cheek, licking the trail of tears from her face. you laughed as she began to squirm more, beginning to beg, "i- y/n i- something is...i can't please-" you pushed your fingers further into her heated center, letting your thumb lightly bump her clit.

she began to close her legs and you pulled out of her and quickly reached forward. you laughed in her face as tears fell from her eyes and she nearly screamed, her swollen nub squeezed harshly between your thumb and pointer finger. sooyoung begged you, "ah- i- y/n-" you silenced her with a kiss and let her go, watching her sigh of relief only briefly until you pushed back into her.

you looked her in the eyes and told her firmly, "you can take it sooyoungie." her swollen pout and pleading eyes found yours and she repeated to herself pitifully, "i can take it. i-i can take it." you kissed her lips and cheek as you drew her only seconds from her third orgasm, "such a good girl for me huh?" she nodded eagerly as tears fell from her eyes and you kissed them away, "such a pretty girl when you cry for me. my pretty angel, my sooyoung." that moment the last name fell from your lips you felt her walls squeeze your fingers and push them out.

a stream of clear liquid leaked from her pussy as she shook beneath you, her own hand finding her clit and massaging it through her orgasm. you didn't hesitate to go down and lick up her mess, humming at the salty taste that was so uniquely hers. a taste you'd found yourself addicted to, always craving for more.

i can't quit you, i can't quit you, oh baby. i can't quit you, i can't quit you, oh babe

sooyoung pushed your head away and you kissed her inner thighs that were still slightly shaking. she had her eyes closed in a fucked out bliss that only you'd ever given her. you smirked to yourself and asked her sweetly, "who's on your mind now, angel?" sooyoung's eyes opened weakly and she hummed, "hmmm? s' you....only y/n. only want y/n." you placed a kiss on her cheek and laid beside her before she curled into your arms, tucking her head into your side. as you thought you'd finally won, sooyoung was beside you smiling to herself because she was the only winner, she always was.

you were only a pawn in her little game but she'd be lying if she said you weren't her favorite player. all this time people told you that she was obsessed with you, the idea of you. but in reality you were addicted to all of her, just another person hooked on the thought of winning the game. always under the impression that you were closer and closer to winning the grand prize, winning her over. but in reality you were just another piece in her puzzle. nevertheless, you'd never quit all that was park sooyoung.

i'm gonna regret it babe, babe, babe, gonna regret it, yeah, i'm gonna regret it...