#i'm on the EDGE of my SEAT here with this

[floralscented]

dean winchester x angel!reader — kissing lessons.

or, the defenses are down, the blockades shattered, and you dont know how to kiss. or, let dean help you.

cw, 18+, MDNI! dean talks you through it for real this time. backseat sex LOL. fluffy smut? lowkey subby dean hehehe. no protection yell @ them not me.

word count: 5.6k

notes, dean gets to be his full freak self here hehehe. everyone say ur welcome since i've been being HOUNDED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIMEMEEEEMEEEE TO POST THIS. unfortunately for all of u this is the planned conclusion to their tale </3 don't crucify me. u legally can't since i'm giving u this.

★ ˚⋆

things were... a little awkward, after you saved dean's life with a kiss. like passion drove you over the edge, a desperate need to save him and to do it any way possible, that was the only time that you managed to kiss him right.

and he didn't — well, he kind of judged you for it. just little laughs, when you'd lean in to try and kiss him and end up flushing and sinking backwards. it was cute. sure, it did mean he wasn't getting any action anytime soon, and every bedtime kiss you promised him ended up becoming a bedtime smack for him laughing at your struggle, but hey, you guys just had a different dynamic.

he still thought you were the prettiest thing to ever grace earth. just because you didn't know how to kiss properly didn't mean he was going to suddenly stop being interested. it just opened doors to getting to teach you.

sam stayed back at the motel while dean volunteered to go on a drink run. it was one of those nights; a roundabout case that the both of them knew was going to keep them up looking for the slightest detail in the research that could alter their investigation for the better. sam needed a beer, dean wanted a beer, and you wanted whiskey.

literally. girl of his dreams, he'd thought. still thinks.

plus, you love car rides. dean had not let you back behind the wheel since the last time, and you didn't seem to want to try again either, more than content to sit and look pretty in the seat next to him.

the nearest liquor tour in whatever small town you guys were camping out in for the night was a good few miles away, and so he got to play all of his cards in one fell swoop. hand on your thigh, fingers trailing up the seams of your jeans, tracing with his nail on the inside of your palm.

you were squirming. he loved when you squirmed.

his fingers are just at the inside of your thigh, long enough to have gently walked their way over like they owned the place ( he did, you didn't know it yet ) and rest easily. that is the moment you speak up, those narrowed eyes locked on his in a glare.

"stop that."

dean's eyebrows flick up. he spares a single glance toward you, the picture of innocence written into the marrow of his sinful bones. "stop what?"

"you're touching me."

he hums to himself for a moment, eyes turned toward the stoplight he'd rolled up to. "could be touching you more."

"no."

dean huffs out a laugh. "are you scared of my hands, dove?" even as he says it, his hand moves again, to the safety of your thigh. "you know they'd never hurt you."

your eyes roll furiously. you grab his wrist and practically throw his hand onto the gearstick. "your hands are not sentient beings and cannot make that choice for you."

dean's gotten really receptive to you, over these past few weeks. what your expressions meant in the rare times that you didn't voice your confusion, what your body language said, and so now he's confident that he knows what you're feeling right now. your hands are clenched tightly in your lap, purposely not touching him, fisted so tightly that they shake a little. your eyes are facing forward without budging, even though he knows that his gaze is burning into the side of your face.

the stoplight illuminates your face in a green glow. "it's a green light," you say without turning to look at him, and that pretty much confirms it for dean. you're afraid. afraid, embarrassed, and not wanting to tell him any of it. "so go."

dean's jaw clenches as he restrains a frown behind the cage of his teeth. the absolute last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to hide away from him, keeping every one of those thoughts locked away in your inexperienced, curious head.

the car rolls into drive again, passing the parking lot for the liquor store. he sees it out of the corner of his eye; the way your head cocks to the side, your lip between your teeth while you try to figure out what he was doing. you could ask. he wanted you to ask. whatever was eating at you was keeping all of his pretty girl's first thoughts from him.

he pulls off on the side of the road and cuts the engine, leaving the both of you in darkness except for the moonlight pouring in through the windshield.

dean nods toward the backseat. "hop on back there, sweet girl," he says with a sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the driver's seat. you don't move. he props himself in the doorway with an unmoved expression. "c'mon. it's late. don't wanna have to tell you twice."

the way your face twists up in annoyance is exactly what he wanted to see. good. anything but that weariness that had marred your features. he slips into the backseat, shuts the door behind him, before your door opens.

seconds later, you're dropping into the seat next to dean. he turns on the leather to face you better, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. "you know you can talk to me, right? i act like an ass all the time, i know, but you don't have to lock yourself away."

your face goes pink at his words. that angry twitch of your nose makes an appearance, and it's all dean can do not to break into a wider grin. knowing that something so delicate could also be so wicked was an enticing thought all in itself.

"it's embarrassing."

"so what?" his lips twist as his shoulders raise in a shrug. "who's gonna judge you? me? be serious, dove."

your nose twitches again, mouth in a tight scowl. "you would definitely judge me."

"that's how i know you're feelin' all insecure up there," dean says, tapping your temple with his finger, "because you know that's not true. i know that's not true."

you growl, actually growl, and dean wants nothing more than to grab you by the hand and tug your mouth onto his. even if you don't kiss him back, he wants to kiss you. your furious frustration was a common occurrence around him, but that didn't mean it got any less attractive.

"when you touch me," you grit out through your clenched teeth, your hands fisted in your lap like you might hit him. hell, he'd have taken the punch right then, if it kept you talking. "i feel things."

dean blinks twice in quick succession. "and?" you do hit him square in the shoulder. your hands carry much more of a punch than he could have predicted. he lets out a little oof, his lips pursing with his lack of amusement. "it's a serious question!"

"i can't say." you look adamant, your frustration so pretty on your features, and dean's a bit dazed. "it's embarrassing," you repeat, and dean gets it. or, he thinks he does.

one corner of his mouth quirks again, his cheek dimpling. the hand on your face falls to your thighs again, fingers lightly dancing on the inner seam of your jeans. "here?"

your hand raises to punch him again, and he knows he's right; catches it just in time before you can bruise that spot on his shoulder. "well, i can't leave you feelin' all hot and bothered, can i?"

"i am not hot," you scoff out almost in disgust at the suggestion, and dean does laugh, then. you were so hot it was ridiculous, but alright. "but i am very bothered."

"lucky for you," dean murmurs, his hand releasing your wrist and moving to your jaw, turning your head to look at him again, "i am very good at handlin' bothered girls." he leans in, brushes his lips against yours. "angels, i should say."

dean can feel you retreating already at the slight touch of his lips, but now he knows that it's not because you don't want to kiss him, or don't want what he's offering. you're afraid of it like the feelings will bite you, nervous to feel the full extent of it. his fingers hold your jaw more firmly.

"now, i'm not gonna ask," he says, driven further by the soft sound of your breath catching, "since you're feeling a little trigger happy right now... but i think it's time my little dove has herself some kissing lessons."

to his surprise, you don't hit him again. you just stare into his eyes with such earnest honesty that it's his turn to lose his breath. you trusted him so much. he wanted to show you just how much it meant to him; let you watch as he cradled your heart in his hands.

the distance closes in a second between your mouths, the brush of his slow and languid against yours, judging your reactions. your kiss is hesitant, and then suddenly you're pressing further into him, the force of it almost bruising when you don't move your lips. he pulls back enough to look into your eyes.

dean's finger comes up to pinch your lips closed, smiling softly as he does. "don't have to try n' bite my face off, honey, i promise," he chides without any malice in his words, taking advantage of the gentle grasp he had on your lips to lean in again. he kisses you slowly again, deliberate in the way his mouth moves, so you could figure it out.

your fingers uncurl in your lap and move to his shirt, twisting the soft cotton lightly. that's when he releases your lips, his hand shifting to cup your cheek in his palm. dean's thumb traces reassuringly on your cheekbone.

when your mouth opens this time, it's less like you're trying to sink your teeth into him and more like an invitation. dean knew you were a quick learner; had from the moment he'd let you behind baby's wheel. seeing it action like this, with your hands in his shirt and your tongue swiping across his, was on another level.

his free hand reaches for your hands one at a time, his touch on your wrist light as he lifts your fingers to his hair. he has to force his mouth away from yours, has to pull away from the taste of your tongue. "i know how much you wanna yank my hair out," dean teases, letting go of your hand to let you take over, "so go ahead n' pull, baby."

you look between his eyes again with that same open look, and he's sure he's melting right there into the leather backseat. "really?"

dean laughs. "yeah, really." he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. "matter of fact, touch anywhere you want, baby. this is all for you. so y'can get outta that head of yours."

something flashes in your eyes at that. he doesn't know what it was - the offer or the idea - that caught your attention, but he's intrigued, too. one of your hand drops from his hair to his shirt again, this time at the waist of it.

he's a little dazed, admittedly, as you untuck it from being bunched up in the waist of his jeans. it's intense to have your eyes on him while you pull his shirt up until it catches on his extended arms.

"took the first chance y'could to get me naked, huh?" dean asks, even as his voice comes out more strained than it'd been before, his jeans suddenly feeling just as tight.

you use your elbow to nudge his arms up, and he raises his hands in defense at your sudden act of authority before he lifts them. then, you've got his shirt off, tossing it behind your back. "shut up."

"there's my girl," he murmurs, hooking his finger in your belt loop and tugging you closer. maybe he was moving too fast. maybe he knew you'd adapt quickly.

and you do. he never doubted you for a second. your hand rests on his cheek, guiding him back into a kiss, more confidently than any of your kisses had been so far. your fingers tangle in his hair, and dean has to physically bite back on the groan in his throat.

he takes advantage of his hold on your jeans to start unfastening them. you're so good for him, a perfect match, because you don't even know what you're doing but your hips are lifting so he can start pulling them down.

dean breaks the kiss with a pop of your mouths, and the growl you let out goes straight to the hardening cock trapped in his jeans. he doesn't want to move so fast, but you've always been a little cruel like this, tempting him in ways that he should have been stronger to resist. there was no resistance now.

he hooks his arm under your legs to turn you in the seat, draping them across his lap. he unties your boots for you, pulling them off and setting them on the floor of the backseat. then, he's grabbing the bunched denim on your thighs and tugging until they're off. dean has more care with your clothes than you did with his. he'd always treat everything about you as gently as glass, setting them on the middle console between the front seats.

you look at him for a second, like you're trying to gauge the situation you've both found yourselves in. pulled over on the side of the road like teenagers that couldn't wait, stripping each other naked in the backseat. it'd be laughable if you didn't look so vulnerable. for the second time that night, dean realized how big the trust you had in him was, and he didn't want to do a thing to mess it up.

"lemme get this off of you, yeah?" he asks, his hands moving to the bottom of your shirt. he meets your gaze for confirmation; gets a single nod. "it means a lot, y'know," he continues on, trying to keep you out of the black hole that was your worries, as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, "that you're trusting me with this. all of it."

"don't start," you whine, your hands moving to your eyes, covering your face. dean grabs your wrists and pulls them apart, moving your arms out of the way so he could properly see you. "hey!"

dean's lips pull into a small smile. "hi."

"this is a lot," you say, and his smile softens considerably, "i don't know what to do now."

dean lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "whatever you wanna do. this is all you, baby, i'm just here to provide." he rests his large palm on your kneecap, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothingly against your skin. "we can stop. you can kiss me again, or punch me again, if that's what you want. we can get dressed again, get what we actually came for..."

"no." you blink a few times before you shake your head. "i don't want to stop, i..."

dean's not a patient man. he's used to time limits and counting his days. but in this backseat with you, he's certain time has stopped just for the both of you. he feels the world at his disposal, like every bit of time existed like pieces of sand in his palms.

when you realize he is, for once, not going to interrupt you, and not try and put thoughts in place of your feelings, you huff. "i do not know what to do from here."

dean grabs for one of your discarded hands, holding your fingers in his lap. "do you want us to be on equal ground?" he asks, nodding down at himself. you were in nothing but undergarments; he still had his jeans on. "and then we can figure it out from there?"

your smile is beautiful in its hesitance. "okay."

"okay like you want my pants off, or okay like you'd just feel better if we were both freezin' our asses off back here?" dean teases, even as he shifts a little in the cramped space to start taking off his jeans.

your huff is practically a wordless grumble in itself. "why do you want me to spell things out?"

"i want you comfortable, dove," he says, the waistband of his jeans paused at his thighs, "there's no pressure here at all. if there's pressure, then it's not fun anymore."

you think on it for a second. dean watches your expression shift with your feelings and acceptance. "you may continue."

"oh, mama's bossy now, is she?"

you grab a handful of the leg of his jeans and yank. "shut up."

"yes, ma'am."

you wad up his discarded jeans and toss them at him in a ball of denim. "shut up."

"you're so pretty when you're mad, honey," dean mumbles, using his grip on your hand to tug you forward. you stumble a little in the small space, falling into his lap. "come n' make me shut up."

your eyes are narrowed on him as you shift to make yourself comfortable. your leg tosses over his thighs, settling into his lap. his breath hitches in his throat at the feel of your heat through both of the thin undergarments on you, and from the look in your eyes, the evidence of his own arousal has made itself prominent against you, too.

you look like you might say something. you don't. your hands grab him by his face and drag him in for another kiss. he actually chokes on a noise in his throat at the suddenness, and he thinks he might love you. knows he does, but has never felt the intensity of it quite like this before.

dean's mouth opens to let you in, craving the taste of you again. your tongue meets his instantly, lapping against each other's in a languid slow dance. he's content like this. he could stop here, and go back to the motel with or without the alcohol and use this memory here of your tongue in his mouth while you sat all pretty in his lap to get himself off, and be perfectly fine.

but if there was one thing that you were full of, it was surprises. his little whiskey drinking, praise adoring, bossy angel. your fingers fall between the both of your bodies and rest on his hard on through his boxers, and dean looses a shuddering breath.

you pull away from his mouth with his saliva on your lips. dean's head falls back onto the headrest of the backseat with a groan. "you told me i could touch," you say, your innocent voice so out of place with your devilish hands.

"i did," dean says, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. "didn't expect you to go for the gold immediately, though."

your answering smile is the prettiest thing he's ever seen. the moon sits high in the sky outside of the window, glowing and whitecast down onto you.

a halo of your own making.

dean thinks he's going to die.

you raise your hips off of him for the time being, your light touch teasing and electric at once. dean grasps that hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing each of your fingertips. "here," he says quietly, his other hand going to your waist. he traces over your ribcage lightly before he closes his fingers over your side.

he pulls you closer, lets you grind against the swell in his boxers. he groans, your breath hitches with a little whine, and he's sure, then, that he'll die like this.

"you like that?" dean asks you, dipping his head to get a better look at your eyes. you look dazed, a little drunk, and dean wants to see those pretty eyes glimmer and glisten.

he lifts you up again by your thigh, just enough to slide his boxers off of him as gently as he can. the space is cramped, and it's finally starting to feel like it.

dean's done this plenty of times, but there's something about your gaze that makes him feel more vulnerable than he ever has before. he's naked underneath you; you, who has never done anything like this before, and he feels more exposed than you seem to.

it's like a game, now. when he does something, you do it, like you don't want to fall behind in this back and forth. your hips stay up, and it's more awkward for you to tug your panties off, but you manage it with a few lifts of your legs, and a kick that sends them, somehow, into the driver's seat.

you laugh. it's breathtaking.

dean helps you settle back on his thighs, and it's all he can do to not fall apart there. you're warm, you're wet enough that he feels it on his legs, and all he wants to do is make you feel even better than you do now.

"green light?" dean asks, lifting his eyes to look at you again, and not at all of the skin bared to him. he doesn't want to overwhelm you with how intense he must be staring at you, but you're mesmerizing. perfection in the form of a wingless angel sat on his lap.

you blink a couple of times before the realization settles in. "go?"

"i'm askin' you, dove," he says in answer, hand going to the back of your neck to pull you closer, to press a kiss to your forehead. "red light or green light?"

your face is so close to his, but dean can see the melted expression in your eyes. instead of answering, you press a kiss to his mouth again. he's glad you like it, now that you know how to do it. he could handle kissing you over and over, but your lips kissing him back is something he was already getting addicted to.

on his mouth, you whisper, "green light."

dean blinks, now. his teeth drag your bottom lip back lightly until it pops back into place. "yeah?"

at your nod, he sits up a little better, his arms snaking around your waist. once he's got a good grip on you, he moves the both of you so that he's sprawled beneath you in the backseat, fully extended. he doesn't fit, his legs bent a little as his back presses into the door, but it's fine. everything is fine when he has you. plus, his bent knees only draws you closer to him.

"i promise this is the last time i'm gonna do this to you," he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, lifting you off of his thighs again. "just say red light if it's too much, okay?"

"okay."

it's more gentle than he's ever been, the way he spreads your legs open a little more, the way he lines the aching length of his cock up with your waiting entrance. just the brush of the tip against the wetness of your folds could make him crumble.

dean pushes up enough to just barely rest inside of you, giving you the moment to adjust. your gasp is small, breathless. he stops instantly, his hand on your thigh loosening its grip. your face twists into a frown. "i didn't say red light," you grumble through the pout, and he's always been a sucker for that little pout, as much as he is for when you sink your teeth into the puffy lip.

his laugh is warm, free hand raising in surrender again. "sorry, baby, jus' lookin' out for you."

you start to sink down further on him yourself with nothing but his hand in guidance. your eyes are wide, your lips parted in a soundless 'o', but you don't tell him to stop, and he trusts you enough to know that you would, if you needed it. he couldn't helicopter monitor you just because he was afraid of breaking the pretty thing he'd grown so attached to.

it's a tight fit, being inside of you. he can feel every bit of your walls expanding to fit him, and he tries not to groan, tries to not get too ahead of himself, but goddamn. months of fantasizing about this, of denying himself those same fantasies out of fear of ruining the trust you were building between each other, comes nowhere near the reality of how it feels to have you in his arms.

your head drops to press against his, and dean's unable to resist the way he leans up to peck a kiss to your mouth. a quick one, light and easy, that you take as a sign to deepen. your teeth scrape his lip, your tongue explores the expanse of his mouth, and dean takes this distraction from the discomfort he knew you were feeling to push the rest of the way inside of you.

you whine on his lips, and he kisses away the little noises. "i know," dean mumbles on your mouth, "it's okay."

the red light is unspoken, but he's not about to push you, or overstep anyways. you trace shapes with your fingertips on his bare chest, worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"green light," you say after a few moments, and a few more soft kisses from him in the crook of your shoulder.

dean nods, leaving a last lingering kiss on your collarbone before he shifts enough to properly start to move inside of you. the thrusts are shallow and gentle, letting you get a feel for it, letting you adjust to his size.

your forehead drops to rest on his shoulder, each little whimper twisting at his heart, even if the sounds of them were beginning to get louder and less strained.

"feelin' better?" he asks, all of the strain from your voice stolen and bottled up in his. the way that you squeeze around him has all of his rational thought fogging, and it takes a conscious effort to be gentle with you. this wasn't about dean; it was about you.

you nod once, your hair tickling at his chest. he's about to keep up the slow pace, to keep going as gently as possible, until you sit up a little straighter and start to meet each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips. dean's head knocks against the passenger window, his breath leaving his mouth in a shudder.

you must like it, too, because you let out a breathless laugh. you grab his hands and hold his fingers between yours, letting them fall to rest on his stomach. it's that game again; you doing something to keep up with what he's doing.

dean grins as he watches you, the tight expression on your face melding into something a little more wild and free. he's never seen you like this. he'd take a picture if he wasn't absolutely certain that you and him were gonna do this again.

again, he moves your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles this time, his groan reverberating through your fingers. you match him so easily, like you were made for whatever he gave to you. your increasing confidence makes him feel comfortable enough to speed up, his other arm braced on the back of the seats for stability as he rolls his hips deeper into you.

your head tips backwards with the first real moan he's ever heard out of you. your reckless abandon is utterly disarming. he sits up straighter, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you pressed against him as he buries himself inside of you.

your hands tremble as they lock onto his face, holding it to be nose to nose with him. you're panting on his mouth, and he can't stop staring at your lips, and he's so deep inside of you that he can feel the tip against your cervix, deep enough to make a rough groan slip out of his throat.

there was no need for kissing lessons. you would have figured it out on your own, dean's sure of it, with how you tilt his head back to suck his top lip between yours, tongue languid against his.

it's embarrassing how close he is to coming already. how couldn't he? he was enamored, transfixed, and getting this little taste of you was intoxicating. your fingers move from his cheeks to his jaw, clawing at his lip, tugging the bottom one down as you ride him.

he lets you. he'd let you do anything.

dean's thumb finds it's way between your legs, slipping between your slick folds to rub gentle circles into your clit. your thighs clench around his, grinding your hips down further onto his, against his hand.

his head tilts up to capture your mouth again, wanting to taste each moan that you let out, to swallow your pleasure and keep it to himself, where no one else can ever see it. each of those shuddering moans gets louder, more frantic, and he knows you're close.

"dean," you whisper into his mouth, and dean wants to hear his name said like this every time from you, now. breathless, desperate, and as needy as he felt.

he thumbs more deliberately at the swollen nub, pressing a final kiss to your mouth before he works little hot kisses down your jaw, your neck. "dean, i--"

"it's okay," his voice is as rough as gravel. "that's how it's supposed to feel." he knows your head like his own, knows from the frenzied breath into his shoulder that you're going to come, and that it must be a little much, trying to live through those feelings and try to figure them out. "it's supposed to, okay? jus' let go, i've got you."

dean would always have you. he loved you too much to let go.

that thought is what breaks his resolve. his thrusts become more sloppy, harder than he should probably be with you, but he loves you, and it's ruining him to not show it, or tell you. the car is thick with hot air, the windows are foggy, his skin is sticking to the leather seats, but he loves you.

you come apart on top of him with the moonlight still bathing you in a halo's glow. your hips still, your fingers claw at his face, scratching red marks into his stubble, and you cry out a moan against his lips.

he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. his hips stutter to a stop inside of you, a gasping groan punctuating his pants into the column of your throat, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum fills you. he'd worry about that later. or maybe he wouldn't. he didn't care about anything in the world besides how much he loves you.

dean doesn't realize he's whispering it out loud until he registers that pretty laugh of yours.

your hair is stuck to your forehead, your skin glassy with sweat in the pale moonlight, and the halo of the moon still hangs above your head. you're the most divine thing he's ever seen, the closest to divinity he's ever let himself be.

"you love me?" you ask, your eyes so sweet and so warm as they watch him.

dean leans up to kiss each corner of your mouth. "where'd you get that impression?"

he can never tell when you'll be matter-of-fact or when you'll play around. he forgets sometimes all of the things he's taught you, every bad idea you've got wedged in your mind because of his influence. dean winchester never wanted to corrupt you or your innocence, but he knew he'd always end up pulling you into the dark with him. you were stuck together, after all, now that he'd embedded himself to you for saving his life.

"i had a hunch." your head tilts up pridefully, chin jutted out. the act is cute while it lasts but falls apart instantly when you start to laugh again. dean's never heard you laugh so much since you'd met. how'd he get so lucky?

the car ride back to the motel is peaceful, the frigid air conditioning blasting to try and clear the fog from the windows and cool the sweat on your skin. the entire time, dean's hand is on your thigh, and the entire time, you don't move it. the moon follows his angel out the window the entire drive, like it knows, too, that you were as divine as beings could be.

sam calls two miles from the motel. "everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice. "it's been at least an hour. i didn't think you could get lost on a beer trip in this town."

beer. liquor store. alcohol run. it all comes back to dean now that his head is a little more clear.

"oh," is all dean can say for a few seconds, gaze flickering over to you in the passenger seat. you pick at the threads on his jacket he'd given to you, head downturned to unsuccessfully hide your laugh, "got sidetracked. we'll be back in twenty or so."

it was sam's turn to be silent. his following laugh is more like a scoff than anything else. "jesus christ, dean."

"blame dove," dean cackles into the speaker, eyes fond as he glances over at you again. he makes a (definitely illegal) u-turn at the same stoplight that acted as the tipping point for the night's event back in the direction of the liquor store. "she's the one who needed taught how to kiss."

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deanswidow @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @jackleslvr @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[zephyrchama]

Do you ever wonder if the Devildom has silly celebrity TV competitions like The Masked Singer?

A bright green peacock costume graced the TV's screen. The costumed celebrity gripped a microphone and swayed as he sang, commanding all attention from the audience.

"This guy's got a great set of pipes." Mammon was on the edge of his seat humming along to the classic tune. "Twenty grimm says he wins the whole season. And another twenty grimm says that it's Chort."

Satan raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that's Chort. Could he even sing? Plus, didn't he disappear because of his massive debts?"

Belphegor nodded. "I heard he's been trying to dig a river for the last six hundred years. The show's hints made this guy seem pretty great. I think it's Vapula.

"You think?" Satan rested his head on his hand and listened. "He's really good."

Hundreds of long feathers splayed out gracefully from the back of the perforner's costume, as if hypnotizing the viewers.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's Chort. He's probably on here to sweep the competition and pay off his debts. Not a bad plan." A scheme began to take shape in Mammon's brain. "If I call these production guys, they'll be beggin' to have someone like me on next season."

Asmodeus laughed, "you? Maybe in a few seasons after me. I know they're waiting to bring me on as a special guest."

"Wait, really?" Leviathan was only watching in case somebody sang an anime or game cover. Most of the time, he was boredly scrolling his phone and making technical remarks about the costumes. "C-can you take song requests?"

"It's not official yet " Asmodeus clarified, "but I know they'll want me on the show in due time. I'm just worried the mask will hide my true beauty."

The singer finished his performance with a dab and a bow. After racous applause began an excessively long commercial break. Interest in the room dwindled. Nobody cared much about curse insurance.

You hugged a cushion to your chest. Being unfamiliar with Devildom celebrities meant you couldn't play along, but listening to everyone's guesses was still enjoyable.

"That guy reminds me of Lucifer."

Belphegor and Satan made faces like they had just swallowed a frog. There was a beat of silence, then everyone in the room collectively went, "Nah."

"Where is he, anyway?" you asked.

"He said something about a favor for Lord Diavolo," Beelzebub replied through a fistful of buttered popcorn. "Won't be back until late."

"Ah."

When commercials ended, the show began to wrap up. The peacock costume reappeared as the judges tried their hardest to guess his identity. Despite its flat plastic eyes, the costume had a majestic air to it. The masked man still drew eyes even when standing still.

"Last chance for betting," Mammon said. He shook his coin purse. Nobody took up his offer.

With plenty of suspense, the emcee began to remove the contestant's mask. There was a solid minute of the camera panning between the stage, the audience, and the judges.

"Hurry up already." Belphegor tossed a piece of popcorn at the TV.

"I can't believe this!" the emcee shouted.

Asmodeus impatiently squeezed his hands together. "Well? Who is it!?"

"It's...!"

Confetti cannons and bright lights obscured the mystery man's face, yet the audience was going wild.

"I can't believe it!" The emcee screamed.

"If they cut to commercials again, I'm leaving," Satan sighed.

Thankfully, there were no more commercials. There were no more pans to the audience or the judges. There was only one person in the camera's focus.

"Your ruler of hell, the Avatar of Pride himself, the great Morning Star! It's... Lucifer!"

There was a sudden chorus of exclamations. "What!?"

Aside from the television, the House of Lamentation became dead silent. Beelzebub stopped, slowly lowering his hand of food while transfixed on the screen. Asmodeus looked like he was about to cry, having his position on the show stolen first by Lucifer. Mammon looked confused and swiveled his head around, stunned, as though his brothers were pranking him. Belphegor narrowed his eyes with displeasure.

You cautiously eyed Satan, ready to command him to stay if things got out of hand. He just stared at the screen coldly.

Leviathan was first to break the silence. "Wait, really? Lucifer's the peacock?"

"I knew it sounded like Lucifer," you bragged. You raised your arms victoriously. Your cushion flopped onto the floor.

Beelzebub was the only one to commend you. "Good job, I had no idea."

"So it wasn't Chort or Vapula." Belphegor began to drag himself off the couch. "Well, that was unexpected. I'm going to bed."

"What's the prize for this show? How much's he winnin'?" Mammon asked.

"Probably nothing. It's a small appearance fee and the rest is just exposure," Asmodeus explained. Him and Mammon both hung their heads.

Satan got up to grab the remote, mashing the power button until it clicked off. "This show sucks. Let's find something else to watch next week."

[sosasturns]

spin bout u - c. sturniolo

in which shoota!chris spins the block of bottle girl!reader’s ex

the lounge was packed-dark neon lights flickering against glossy walls, the bass heavy and rolling through the air like a heartbeat. it was a prime night, weekend chaos in full swing, but this was your zone. the crowd, the music, the game of balancing trays and dodging wandering hands—it didn't faze you. in your sleek black dress and heels, you moved like water through it all, flashing practiced smiles and racking up tips with every stop.

but your night flipped when you spotted him. meech.

he was sitting at a table in vip, surrounded by his boys-trey, dashaun, and a few others you didn't know. and next to him? his new girl. the one who'd been starting drama since the breakup. her group of friends was there too, laughing loud and throwing side-eyes like they were trying to make you crack.

your stomach dropped, but you played it cool, not letting the irritation show as you passed by. they didn't deserve that satisfaction.

but it didn't stop there. the new girl called your name all sweet, pretending like she was gonna order something, just to snicker when you leaned down. her friends giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world, whispering behind their hands.

you kept it professional, swallowing the heat rising in your chest. but when one of her friends "accidentally" knocked into you, making you stumble with a tray of empty glasses, you were done.

in the back storage room, you paced, trying to breathe through the anger bubbling inside you. the phone in your hand felt like a lifeline, and before you knew it, you hit chris's name.

he answered on the second ring. "what's good, mama?"

hearing his voice calmed you a little. "it's meech," you blurted. "him and his girl are here, and they're acting so fucking childish, chris. like, it's messing with my whole night. i can't even think straight."

he hummed quietly, his tone steady. "what they doing?"

you vented, laying it all out-how they were trying to embarrass you, how it felt like they were testing you on purpose. chris stayed quiet for most of it, his occasional "mhm" and "yeah?" grounding you.

finally, he broke the silence. "don't let them get to you. you good?"

you sighed. "i'll be fine… just needed to hear your voice."

there was a pause, then his low, calming tone came through. "alright. don't let them ruin your bag. i'm busy right now, but call me if you need me, aight?"

you nodded even though he couldn't see it. "yeah... thanks, chris."

"always, ma."

you hung up, taking a deep breath before heading back out, but you didn't know what chris meant by ‘busy.’ not yet.

the hours dragged, and by the time your shift ended, you were drained. brina's place was the safe spot for the night-chris had sent you money for an uber and insisted you crash there. you didn't argue, knowing he always had his reasons.

but the whole time you were there, sipping wine and half-listening to brina rant about her situationship, your mind wandered to chris. something about his tone earlier stuck with you, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

when your phone buzzed after 3 a.m., you weren't surprised to see his name.

"i'm out front," he said simply.

you grabbed your bag, heading outside in your pajama shorts and an oversized tee, too tired to care how you looked. chris was leaning against his black maxda3, arms crossed and hoodie pulled low.

he smiled when he saw you, stepping forward to wrap you in a hug that felt like home. "you good?" he asked, voice soft.

"better now," you mumbled, letting yourself melt into his warmth for a moment before pulling back.

he opened the car door for you, tossing your bag into the backseat. as you slid into the passenger seat, your eyes caught something-the edge of his sheisty mask on the backseat, and his bmw keys next to a pack of raws in the cup holder.

you didn't say anything, but your mind started to piece things together.

back at your place, the clock read well past four a.m.

you were curled into him on the couch, the faint glow of the tv casting soft shadows across the living room. one of his arms was draped around your shoulders, holding you close, while the other rested lazily on your thigh, his fingers drawing slow circles against your skin.

it was quiet, the kind of silence that only came after a long night-comfortable, familiar, like you'd both been here a hundred times before. his hoodie hung loosely on your frame, the scent of his cologne still clinging to the fabric as you buried your face in his chest, breathing him in.

"you good now?" his voice was low, almost a whisper, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke.

"yeah," you murmured, your fingers playing with the chain resting against his chest. "just tired."

but the way his hand started to wander-fingers dipping under the hem of the hoodie, brushing against your bare skin-told you he wasn't ready to call it a night.

"you tired-tired, or just saying that?" he teased, his tone light but the subtle press of his hips against yours said otherwise.

you looked up at him, your brows furrowing slightly as you smirked. "what you think?"

he chuckled, the sound low and warm as his hand slipped further up your thigh, his touch slow and deliberate. “i think you ain’t that tired.”

before you knew it, you were straddling his lap, your knees pressed into the couch on either side of him. his hands settled on your waist, his grip firm but not rushed, like he had all the time in the world to just sit here and admire the way you looked in the dim light.

"this what you wanted?" you asked, your voice soft but teasing as you let your weight settle against him, the thin material of your pajama shorts doing little to hide how close you were.

he tilted his head back against the couch, his lips curving into that familiar smirk. "don't act like you ain't been waiting on this too."

you rolled your eyes, but the way your hips shifted against his gave you away.

the pace was lazy, unhurried, the two of you moving in sync like this wasn't the first time you'd ended the night like this this week. his hands slid under the hoodie, gripping your waist as you rocked against him, your movements slow but deliberate, the kind that made him bite his lip to keep from letting out a sound.

the quiet of the room was broken only by the soft, breathy sighs that slipped past your lips and the occasional creak of the couch beneath you.

his fingers dug into your hips, his head dropping forward so his forehead rested against your collarbone. "fuck," he muttered, his voice muffled but heavy with tension.

you smiled, leaning down to press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "what's wrong? you can't keep up?"

that earned you a soft chuckle, his hands tightening their hold on you as his hips rolled up to meet yours.

"you talk too much," he shot back, his lips brushing against your neck as he spoke.

you didn't reply, too caught up in the way his touch felt-possessive, steady, like he didn't want to let you go. the warmth between you was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but let your head fall back, your hands gripping his shoulders as you kept your pace slow and steady, savoring every second.

his hands trailed lower, squeezing your thighs as he leaned back slightly, his eyes meeting yours in the low light. "why you lookin' at me like that?" he asked, his tone teasing but curious.

you smirked, leaning in closer so your lips were just barely brushing his. "who's block you spin tonight?" you asked, your voice soft but laced with curiosity, your hips never breaking their rhythm.

his smirk faltered for a split second before it returned, a little sharper this time. "you don't need to know all that."

"don't i?" you pressed, your hands sliding up to cup his face, forcing him to look at you. "was it meech's?"

he didn't answer right away, his grip on your hips tightening slightly as he leaned in to kiss you, trying to distract you. but you weren't letting it go that easily.

"chris," you muttered against his lips, your tone equal parts amused and demanding.

"damn, you nosy as hell," he finally said, pulling back just enough to look at you.

you raised a brow, your lips curving into a small smile. "so it was."

he shook his head, his smirk growing as his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. "i told you," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "i'd spin bout you."

his words sent a shiver through you, and before you could think of a response, you found yourself leaning down, your lips brushing against his as you murmured a soft, "thank you."

you didn't give him time to question it before you started sliding lower, your fingers trailing down his chest as your lips followed. his breath hitched, his hands moving to rest on the back of your head as he watched you. his smirk melting into something softer, something more vulnerable as you showed him exactly how thankful you were.

@ sosasturns

“sosa mafia” taglist: @submattenthusiast @sophand4n4 @secretlocket @mrsdillonx @ch6rm @sweetrelieef

[writersblockiskillingme]

Red | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After a tiring day, you're just trying to go home, but while you're waiting on your train, a handsome man in a suit stumbles on you.

Warning/s: betting, money in exchange for a game, slapping (on the face, you nasty), salesman trying to recruit you for the games, smoking cigarettes, people on the station being kind of weirded out, maybe some cursing (idk), reader is in debt, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: So this is like the prequel to my story Russian Roulette, but it really doesn't matter whether you read that fic or this one first. You do you. I really love the request, btw. Hope you enjoy!

Request: hii can u make more stories in this story line between the reader n him? like i rlly wanna know what they were like tgthr before this situation since we r told they had smth tgthr at some point tyyyy

Part 2 here!!

The bench where I was sitting was quite cold, which, of course, wasn't surprising considering how cold it was tonight. My hand slightly shook as I wrapped my fingers around the lit up cigarette that I was smoking for who knows how long. My flimsy jacket that was wrapped around me did not bring exact comfort to me that I had hoped it would.

Shivering there, I sat as the announcer's voice rang around the train station, signaling that the train that I was waiting for to go home would be slightly delayed, forcing me to wait there for entire hour more than I should be waiting. It was already late and I was so done with today's day.

Trying to earn money was hard, especially when you're in a lot of debt. Being chased by the people who you owe money to, threatening to cut out your eyes, possibly even kill you in the end, wasn't fun either. You had to learn to sleep with one eye open. Constantly on edge, just like I was right now.

The job that I worked did not provide as much money as I needed it to. There was simply no way for me to earn enough money for food every day, to pay rent which I was already three months behind. My landlord was truly a fucking angel for letting me live in that house as long as I did, but I knew that that wouldn't last forever either. There was no way that I could afford to pay everything that was essential, let alone pay off my debts.

In frustration, letting out a deep, disappointed sigh, my hand slid into the pocket of my jacket, reaching for yet another cigarette and a lighter.

"Hello, miss."

I practically jumped from my seat, startled by a sudden voice next to me. I whipped my head around, finding the face that this voice belonged to.

Right next to me, smiling, was a very handsome man that looked like some kind of salesman. He was wearing a very expensive suit. His hair was as black as the night sky. His piercing eyes just as black. There was little to no facial hair, but that really suited him. He was very handsome and I quickly found myself surprised when I realized that he was actually talking to me.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked once he noticed how startled I was.

"I'm not a prostitute, sir." I said, sliding away on the bench further away from him.

"Don't worry, miss, it's not that." He chuckled gently, his eyes never leaving mine. "I just want to let you in on a great opportunity to win some money."

There was just silence for a while. I sad nothing all the while he kept looking at me.

"Um..." I looked at him and, for a while, just couldn't bring myself to speak up. "No, thank you."

"'No'?" He asked.

It seemed like I caught him by surprise, but after a little while I noticed something else in his eyes that I just couldn't seem to figure out. Some kind of amazement? Respect even? But there was definitely something that I couldn't label quite yet.

"There is definitely a catch." I smiled slightly. I would love to get some money, of course, but I know that it won't be that easy.

"Miss." The salesman smiled once again, his eyes surprisingly gently just like his voice as he spoke. "Would you like to play a game with me?

"Wha-What kind of g-game?" I found myself stuttering a bit. "Look, if this is some sort of sick perverted thing you're doing 'cause I swear if you try something, I am going to scream." I threatened, a newfound confidence overwhelming me.

He chuckled once more, "No, nothing like that, Miss."

All of a sudden, he quickly turned his face away from me as he reached to open his suitcase. I could swear that for a split second I saw him blush, but then I realized that I probably imagined it because there's no way. I mean, sure, he is very handsome, but the two of us are a whole world apart, too different from each other.

"I'm sure you've played ddakji before, right?" He spoke and I looked at the open suitcase that was resting between us.

There were a few piles of money on one side and two different colors of ddakji on the other side. Red and blue. I looked at him with surprise.

"You-You want me to play ddakji with you?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in question.

He nodded with a smile.

"For money?"

He nodded again, "Play a few rounds of ddakji with me and each time you win, I'll pay you a 100,000 won."

Damn.

I mean, sure, why not. I loved that game when I was a kid, and I didn't have a chance to play the game in what seemed like forever. Plus, if I win, I get money. It all seemed amazing, but then I realized what the problem with all of this could be.

"And what if I lose and you win." I asked, he continued to smile as he answered.

"Then you pay me 100,000 won."

"Sir, this is amazing and all, don't get me wrong." I gently said, "But I'm afraid that I don't have the money to pay you back."

"That is all right, miss." His smile unwavering. "We'll figure something else regarding that if it comes to it."

For a moment, I just sat there in silence, pondering the offer. But after a while I finally decided.

"Ah, sure," I sighed before matching his smile and meet his eyes, "Why not?"

"What color would you like to play as?" He asked me, taking both red and blue ddakji as I stood up. He followed me almost immediately.

"Red, please." I said and he smiled as he handed me the red ddakji.

As I reached for the red one that he was handing me out, our hands touched. For a moment we both froze, but then I quickly took the ddakji and moved away.

It was so strange. The feeling I got when I touched his hand. It was as if some sort of electricity went straight through me, forcing me to quickly move away due to the shock of it all.

He cleared his throat before extending his right hand, pointing to the floor, "You gotta first, Miss."

I nodded, and with that, he placed the blue ddakji on the ground, and I stood over it. I took a stronger hold of the red ddakji and stood up more straight as I glared at the blue ddakji. Goodness, I haven't done this in years, I thought to myself, letting out a shaky breath.

I took a deep breath.

I could feel his eyes on me.

I swang my arm behind my head before powerfully striking his blue ddakji. Apparently, I must have done something wrong because his blue ddakji moved but did not flip over. I let out a sigh, looking kind of defeated.

He stepped forward, grabbed his blue ddakji, and stood back up. I moved away, giving him more space, his eyes folowing my every move. Almost immediately, he swang his arm behind his head, slaming his blue ddakji on my red one, flipping it over with ease. I sighed as he turned to look at me, teasing smile making it's way on his face.

"So..." I spoke up, kind of unsure and slightly intimidated, "So what now? I lost."

"Don't worry about money." He spoke up, kind of surprising me with that one, "We'll discuss it at the end if that is okay with you, Miss?"

"Sure." I answered him, meeting his eyes.

His smile widened a little bit more as we, for a few moments, just stood there taking each other in. All of a sudden, he cleared his throat, snapping himself out of it.

"One more round?" He asked as he fixed his tie, I nodded, not saying a word.

Turns out, one round meant about five more. I lost every single round. It truly began to seem like luck wasn't on my side that day.

We got to the last round, the sixth one. I was getting annoyed, constantly losing. I took a deep breath. His blue ddakji stared at me, my red one locked in my hand. I flipped my ddakji over and decided that that was it. I swang my hand behind my head and delivered the most powerful swing yet. I stared at his blue ddakji and my red one as both of them flipped in the air before his blue ddakji landed on the cold floor. It flipped over... I won...

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips as he gave me a little applause, smiling as I jokingly bowed.

"Wow," I chuckled, "I finally won the round."

"Well done, Miss." He chuckled lowly, but somehow so softly as he reopened his suitcase handing me 100,000 won. "As promised."

"Thank you," I said, taking the money, "but I lost like five times. Tell me, what can I possibly give you to make this even."

"How about you give me the pleasure of taking you out for dinner, Miss?" He spoke up almost shyly in a way that was so endearing, and even though it seemed like that look wouldn't fit him, it somehow did. "Only if you want to, of course."

"I..." I spoke up stuttering and blushing a bit, surprised by his offer, "I would love to."

After that interesting interaction, we went out to get dinner. I had a great time with him, and even though I hated to admit it, I started to like him. We talked on and on about random things. We were truly having fun and that made my day so much better.

Before separating, he gifted me a blood red rose, and he gave me a card that looked really strange. At the front of the brownish card was a circle, a triangle, and a square. I flipped the card over and saw what looked like a telephone number.

"Miss, there are other games like the one that we played where you can make even more money than you did. So much more." He started to explain, but his expression became different. His smile was gone and there was a sort of gloomy gaze in his eyes. That seemed to surprise him. "Think about it."

He stepped closer to me, looked me deep in the eyes before he started to slowly lean in. I found myself doing the same. Our lips met. We were just standing there, outside of the restaurant, rose in my hand, his hands on my face deepening the kiss.

As we parted ways, he told me that he hoped to see me again if I made it. Whatever that meant.

I took another look at the card that he gave me, staring at the number, not knowing that I will meet my childhood friend Gi-hun, not knowing what the games will do to both of us and to all the other people, not knowing the amount of money I was gonna win, not knowing that I will spend the next three years of my life chasing the man of my life, trying to haunt him down, not knowing how dangerous the last game that we'll play will be.

TAGLIST:

@shadow-tumbler

[kiemiu]

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝓦𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝓣𝐨 𝓒𝐚𝐟𝐞́ 𝓖𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐮𝐦

pairing kang sae-byeok x reader | wc: 1.5k

summary -> being called in to work an empty shift with your best friend gia at Café Gippeum led to gossip, reminders, and a sudden revelation that you might not be ready to face yet. warnings -> mentions of toxic relationship, hints of possible physical abuse. ⚠️ deeper dive into reader as a character so, only a minuscule mention of Sae-Byeok this chapter.

( beneath the quiet masterlist )

12:56PM

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 down the panes of your window in waves. The harsh thuds create a comforting rhythm that kept you lulling in and out of sleep. You laid lazily in bed, half of your body covered by the blanket as you laid on your stomach. Your face squished against your pillow, facing your bedroom window as one of your legs peeked out of the blanket, haphazardly dangling off the edge of the bed.

You let out a small sigh, enjoying the time you had to just be without any worries even if it was for a split second. Your ears switching back and forth from the rain to the sound of your tv playing a game show you couldn't quite remember the name of, always mumbling out the answers to the questions before the contestant and surprisingly getting them right. "If this show was still around I'd be a millionaire." you murmured to no one in particular.

The euphoric feeling of boredom interrupted by the intense sound of your ringtone cutting through the tranquil atmosphere. You merely groaned in response, turning away from your phone that buzzed insistently on your nightstand and covering your head with the plushness of your pillow.

Your hands loosen your grip on the side of your head when the buzzing stopped, only to let out another much louder frustrated groan at the sudden continuation of the ringing. You pulled yourself up, swiping your phone off of your nightstand to answer the call, having to take a deep breath before responding.

"Hello?"

A sing-song call of your name unknowingly had a grin grown on your face. "Yes, Gia?" you asked, your eyebrows raising as you shifted to lay on your back, already being prepared for her to ask her infamous question. "Can you come in today? I don't wanna work alone." she asked, you mouthed her words in a mocking way, able to hear the pout in her voice through the phone.

"You never wanna work alone." you murmur back, already swinging your legs off the edge of your bed to get ready. "This coffee shop is so borinnng." she whined. You could picture her now, leaning against the countertop with her head thrown back, phone to ear as if she wasn't at work. "Then why don't you quit, hm? You have plenty of sugar daddies." you joke, sifting through piles of clean, yet unfolded laundry on your window seat.

"They're only for the moment. I get whatever I can out of them for a week or whatever and leave. You can never get too dependent on a sugar daddy." She murmured. "And why's that?" you asked, placing your phone on speaker to change out of your sleepwear.

"Because- they start to get comfortable, yknow? they wanna start asking you for stuff when you're the recipient. like, dude— I'm just here so I can get a Hermès bag, I don't wanna eat lunch with you and talk about stocks and shit." she drones on and on, chewing and smacking noises heard on the other end.

"Don't you think you kinda owe it to them since you're taking their-" "Fuck no!"

A laugh erupts from you as you gather the rest of your belongings, slinging your purse over your shoulder. "Well, okay, if you say so. That's why you're stuck at Café Gippeum working with me and not on a private jet in Cabo." you reiterated. "And I wouldn't have it any other way. Now get your ass over here before I die of boredom." Beep.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"There's my favorite girl." Gia shouts, arms thrown in the air with a wide grin as she walks over to engulf you in a hug. You smiled, leaning into her hug, even with both of your arms being filled.

"Hi, gigi." you murmur quietly, placing a quick peck on her cheek before separating yourself from her hug. "So, what's new?" she asked, trailing behind you. "Besides the fight you got into with your hairbrush this morning." she added on, jumping onto the counter with a growing smirk.

You drop your items on an unoccupied table, uncaring of where your belongings laid considering the deserted coffee shop. "Ha-ha. So funny." you deadpan.

"But if you're really interested, we got a new kid at the orphanage." you added on, hoisting yourself onto the countertop across from her.

"And?" "Annnd, funnily enough, his older sister pick-pocketed me to pay for the kid to stay there for the first month."

A long silence followed your sentence, you almost felt like you were in the Adam Sandler movie 'Click' with how she paused all of her movements. "Come again."

"Yeah, I mean-I know I should be mad but..I don't know I just felt kinda bad for them instead." "SHE PICK-POCKETED YOU?!" Gia added, suddenly hoisting herself from the countertop across from you, shaking your figure back and forth to try and regain some type of sense in you.

"I know, I know." You mutter, leaning into her. There was more you wanted to say to Gia, more you could've said but you didn't. Deciding to bite your tongue on your recent thoughts about Sae-Byeok.

"Anyway, the 1st is coming up soon. Are you excited?" She suddenly asked, her hands sliding down your arms to engulf your hands. Your head tilted in confusion, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at her for any hint of what she might be talking about. "Excited—for what exactly?"

"Your boyfriend is coming back from Australia, remember? You know his whole 3 month summer program that he went to for his English paper?...Don't tell me you have short term memory loss."

You could hear the ringing in your ears get louder as Gia's voice faded into the distance. How could you have forgotten?

The reminder of his return suddenly crashing a heavy weight down onto your chest, each breath becoming more shallow than the last. You were afraid to see him again. Your last departure still sat heavy on your mind like a fresh wound. The unresolved argument, the remnants of glass sitting around your bedroom, the cuts on your fingertips that stung just as much as his words did that night.

The distance was a relief, not having to be suffocated by the dark cloud that followed him everywhere he went. You never told anyone about what happened that night, not even your own Mother despite her questioning you non-stop so, you couldn't quite place the blame on Gia for being excited for you.

Noticing your hesitance, Gia tapped one of her manicured fingers on the tip of your nose. "You okay? Did I say something wrong."

"No, no. I just completely forgot he was coming back so soon." you replied, a weak smile making its way on your face, unknowingly starting to shift on your feet. The smile on Gia's face fell completely. "What's wrong, hun?"

"Nothing, it's just we left on a bad note, so I'm a bit nervous to see him again." You answered, eyes drifting off to look out of the window.

Gia 'tsked' at your nervousness, a careless wave thrown over her shoulder before saying "Oh, please. David is obsessed with you, he won't hold any grudges."

You wanted to tell her that him holding a grudge was the least of your worries, it was more so him existing in your space at all that made you worry. Not to mention your lack of physical and sexual attraction to him, or more so people of the same sex as him. Your feelings starting to deter away from men and focus more on the women you had been avoiding for years. Women like Gia.

Gia was one of those people who didn't need to announce their presence, you could feel the atmosphere shift the moment she made her way into any room. Standing with her chin held high as if she could oversee the stars and galaxies combined, even at the mere height of 157cm.

She was loud, outgoing, something directly from a magazine, in a way she was everything you weren't. Red lipstick stained lips, and long black hair that cascaded down her shoulders like the deep depths of the river.

Recent discoveries and confusing thoughts lead you to believe that it wasn't envy that you felt for Gia like you thought. Nor was it admiration, but possibly a confusing want. A desperate desire to be or to be with her, you couldn't decide. You didn't know if that was simply the effect Gia had on people or if your conscience had turned a glaring mirror towards you, showcasing that your faulty mask was starting to crack and you couldn't hide behind your carefully calculated facade anymore to fit in, not like it worked for you anyway.

Before your thoughts could drift off too far into the reality of your sexuality, the glowing clock on the wall showcased your need to be somewhere else. "It's movie night at the orphanage so I have to go." you announced, a quick farewell being sent to Gia before you gather your things to leave, a burning question resting on your conscience.

" Who Am I? "

NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY !

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

SEO SOOJIN as HAN GIA

" every girls best friend. "

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection @yourl0caltrash @kidicaruslover911 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @i0nic02 @knfthxv @mina-has-been-here

[haikyu-mp4]

The Board Game

word count; 909 – f!reader, part 2 of this

You and Hirugami sat by the window with a sushi plate between you. Neither could decide what you wanted, leading to a shared menu with a side of shy smiles and warm cheeks. The topics of conversation ranged from politics to fun facts, and you never stopped unless it was to take another bite. Entirely consumed with each other, neither of you noticed when one of Hirugami’s best friends walked in the door.

"Sachirooooo!" Hoshiumi exclaimed loudly when he noticed his friend sitting by the window.

"Korai?" Hirugami jumped in his seat, turning his head so quickly that you wondered if it hurt his neck. "What are you doing here?" They did a short handshake before Hoshiumi turned to the other person sitting by the table with a mischievous look.

"I was getting a coffee before my next class. What are the two of you doing?" Hoshiumi’s voice went lighter, teasing him, his eyes seemingly asking a different question. He made a swirly gesture to the table and took notice of your shared food. Both you and Hirugami’s cheeks flushed darker red, glancing at each other.

"I'm y/n," you introduced yourself, ignoring the question, and lifted a hand for the shorter man to shake. He took it, winking playfully at you.

"Hoshiumi, nice to meet you." Hirugami always admired Hoshiumi’s confidence in talking to literally anyone, for better or for worse. "You're lucky, going on a date with such a handsome man," Hoshiumi said, putting his hands on Hirugami’s broad shoulders and shaking them while he kept eye contact with you.

"I know I am," you answered, feeding off the vibrant energy he brought with him. Hirugami’s heart beat faster, and he couldn't help but grin happily at your answer, which you noticed. His smile was one of your favourite things about him so far.

"Don't let me disturb you, lovebirds. I'll leave you alo-" Hoshiumi moved to the edge of the table again, but stopped talking when you were looking at each other instead of him, seemingly having a telepathic conversation of your own. He wondered if you would even notice if he just walked away. "Bye-bye."

"Bye, Korai."

"Nice to meet you, Hoshiumi."

"He's so weird," Hirugami chuckled awkwardly after a few seconds of silent smiles.

"He was nice. I can see why you're friends." You raised your chopsticks and picked up another bite of sushi, looking up at him before tucking the food between your lips. "So, where were we?"

"I believe I just told you how nice you look today," Hirugami answered with as much confidence as he could muster. He already felt something sweet for you but was unsure about whether you were just like that or if you felt something too.

"Sachirooo," you cooed and chuckled, completely charmed and not even noticing that you used his first name. "You look good as well; I like that shirt on you," you said back while nodding as if analysing him like an art piece. Hirugami checked all your boxes so far, and you couldn't wait to get to know him more. Your eyes strayed to the shelves of board games that stood along the opposite wall, lifting a curious eyebrow. "Wanna play a game?"

"A game?" You walked over there and picked up your favourite strategic game, Carcassonne. You turned the box to show him while walking back. "You have amazing taste in board games," he claimed, and anyone could see how smitten he was with you.

"You know this one?" Your eyes went wide with a look that reminded Hirugami of a little kid who was told she could get another cookie. "It's my favourite." Your voice was soft, and it warmed his ears.

"I hope you're ready to lose, sweetheart." It was the first time he referred to you by a nickname, and you could positively say you enjoyed it.

"Honey, you're the one who should be ready to fall off that high horse of yours," you countered. Hirugami could swear his heart melted at this point.

"It's on!" You two played for hours, always catching up to each other in points and looking into each other's eyes intensely, trying to read their strategy. Still, you couldn’t help but help each other too.

"Are you sure you want to put it there? I think there are better opportunities here."

"You're right. Thanks, Hirugami."

"No problem."

"I wouldn't do that. If you turn it around and place it in here, you get half the area covered in one move.

"I didn't even see that road. Thanks."

By the time you agreed to stop, the two of you had won equally as many rounds and it took everything not to settle it. But not settling it was a weird way of agreeing this was not the end. You cleaned up and walked out of the cafe, conversation still ongoing. "I had a lot of fun with you," Hirugami admitted when you had to go your separate ways.

"Me too, we should do it again sometime," you answered, standing up on the tip of your toes to peck his cheek, once again tinting it red. "You're my only worthy opponent."

"I'll text you, we can meet for a rematch?"

"Definitely." You looked contently at each other, lost in the other's eyes. Both were slowly walking backwards, not wanting to be the first to turn away until you had to.

"Bye, y/n."

"Bye, Hirugami."

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[unholyvelvet]

"surprising coming from my mother in law, aren't you scared of me breaking her heart or is this you trying to feel less guilty about wanting more with me?" she isn't leaving her soon to be wife, not when she's used to the lifestyle already. moving to the edge of the seat to get closer to the other, her eyes never leaving aspen's. her touch already making piper wet, craving the woman even more. "i'm okay, right here, mommy." in fact, she's been wanting to feel an orgasm in public for a while now. "don't tell me disappointment in bed runs in the family."

"You should marry someone who can also satisfy you sexually. You shouldn't be with someone who can't give you an orgasm," not that Aspen was trying to stop Piper from marrying her daughter, but she did know how much those relationships can suck in the end. Eyebrow raising, Aspen moved closer, her hand running up her thigh and between her legs, making sure that the people around them wouldn't notice. Her finger ran over her slit through the fabric of her panties, eyes locking with hers. "You sure you don't want to go somewhere more private first? Not that I mind fingering you here in public."

[beneathsilverstars]

it’s interesting that 24->25 isn’t following the curve in that poll so far. i would guess that 25 is less popular than it otherwise would be bc it’s too round a number? what kind of age is a perfect 25. smack in the middle. it means nothing. are they a young 25 in which case let’s just go 24, or an old 25 in which case let’s just go 26. yknow?

[manic-sapphic]

i. am. deceased. just look at these moonstruck sapphics. i am in pain. and i love it.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[sciderman]

Hi! It’s the author again, I’m writing the chapter you would be referenced in, the character you’re referenced by dies later on.

i... i love how the little bit of context you give me only makes me more confused.

[lovely-v]

OF COURSE their hungry asses are eating the dragon

[my-little-random-world]

IRENA PRETENDING TO SCOLD ALENA IN HER OFFICE | Zlatá labuť (The Golden Swan) — Season 1 Episode 8

[silent-browser]

I wish to ramble, so here I am rambling.

I have been impatiently waiting for the next chapter of a manga called I'm being raised by villains and it is so so good. And with potential for every ML involved to be a yandere.

I will be talking about plot so spoilers are inevitable. You have been warned.

Okie dokie with that out of the way.

As far as the most recent chapter for me (ch.23) there are 2 love interests (1 who is definitely Yan) and 1 in-the-process-of-breaking platonic yan dad.

I will ramble my thoughts on each of them in the order they appear in the manga.

The dad.

Man's really pulled a "At first I was like, haha my child, as a joke. But bro, I don't think it's a joke anymore". Dude went "BEHOLD! A CHILD!" to "BEHOLD! MY CHILD!" Fucking love this trope.

He realized that he loved this kid and then she was humiliated, hurt and vanished and it is heavily implied that he's not doing so well up in the brain space because his beloved daughter is missing and I can't wait for him to break.

It likely won't happen but I really want to see him go on some grief fueled rampage, looking desperately for his daughter.

This possibility has inspired a different yandere werewolf fic that is still in the works (oop. More spoilers I guess 👀)

The Magician

This one already broke :)

Sweet little baby mc is off on her own and trying to find this boys parents and he's furious because she's missing technically and he might be feeling abandoned by, not only his birth family but also his new found family that he has with her. She is his mental stability your honor.

The new guy

He's literally been here for like 2 chapters and he's already calling this tiny 5 year old his master and barking for her. Bro, she gave you bread, chill.

I can see is future yandere the being a manipulative one. Maybe to her (pwease let me stay 🥺), definitely to the people around or in her way(you are clearly of no more use to her so why don't you go to that cliff over there and jump ☺️).

He's going to be either her most loyal servant and right hand man or her most prominent annoyance.

I have left out much as it does not contribute to the discussion on yanderes. Also I wanna try a secret second thing out. So go read or re-read this manga right now damn it! I am very much enjoying it.

Aww can't have an infinite list of "read more" lines. Damn. Oh well

The massive thing I left out!

1. It's Isekai. I like Isekai, sue me.

2. SHES A MOTHER FUKN DRAGON BITCH!!! AND HER LITTLE WINGS ARE BEGINNING TO GROW IN! They are currently only just little nublets but I can't wait until she reveals herself in all her majestic dragon-y glory!

That is all. Have a very nice "time_frame".

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Watching the walking dead made me realize I been consuming too much kids' media. I'd always be sittin there hoping for them to cross a line. do something wild. have somethin outrageous and exciting happen. I've been craving violence and misery from shit that has to follow TV-PG rules. Wow watching something I'm the actual target audience for is great, who'da thought? 💀

[homo-house]

I swear every time I open this book thinking "yeah I'll just find that one paragraph to get the quote right" and every time I spend 1-2 hours rereading and making myself miserable

[fealtyfaggot]

Not to sports on main especially for a game in which my country isn't playing but. The England France game may be the most engaging rugby match I've ever watched