#like who just casually looks like this for ice cream i’m crying

[taehyungfirst]

Top 10 Taehyung looks, case closed.

[thewickedjazzy]

𓍼𝑽𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑶𝒇 𝑴𝒚 𝑶𝒘𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚𓂃

➵ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : Beast! Dazai osamu x f! reader

➵ 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸: You are Dazai's favourite—an executive who avoided unnecessary bloodshed, preferring to strategize behind the scenes. With your cunning plans, you helped the Port Mafia flourish after Mori's death, and under Dazai's leadership, you became vital in securing the organization's power.

➵ 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: NSFW minor dni, smut, angst, dazai is controlling, yandere dazai?, character death, abuse, guns, blood, SA, dissociation, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, let me know if I forgot any Xx.

➵ 𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮: Helloooo, this fic took me 3 weeks to finish, I'm always down with angst stories cause, let's be real, no bsd fan doesn't like angst, right? also, ice cream man by raye inspired me to write some parts uwu I hope you enjoy it. xoxo -dividers credits to @anitalenia

➵ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 6.8k

You shouldn't be crying. You already did beat the man up till he was shaking, but you couldn't help it. You can still feel his ice-cold hands marking your body, a sensation that sends shivers down your spine. How you wish you could express how you feel, how you felt in that moment when your strength faltered. You long to explain why you’re silently blaming yourself, why the guilt gnaws at your insides like a relentless parasite.

You put on these faces, pretending you're fine, wearing a mask of strength that you desperately want to believe in. But in the privacy of the bathroom, you press rewind, playing the events over and over in your head. His fingerprints, like invisible stains, linger on your skin, a cruel reminder of how he made you frame yourself for his sins. Such a pathetic, dead excuse of a man.

The man in question wasn’t just some random thug—he was your crazy ex, the one who had haunted you for years, refusing to let go, even after everything had ended. You hadn’t told anyone about the encounter. What would they think? What would he think? Dazai, with his sharp eyes and sharper mind, would see right through you. He always did.

You straighten up and hastily wipe your tears away as you hear a knock on the door. The sound sends a jolt through your body, and you quickly compose yourself, trying to erase any trace of vulnerability from your face.

Seated at your desk, you take a deep breath and call out, "Come in."

The door opens, and it's Chuuya, greeting you with his usual smile. But the moment his eyes land on you, the smile drops, concern filling his gaze as he takes in your red nose and puffy eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”' he asks with a low and gentle voice.

You force a weak smile, shaking your head. "Yeah..just... pmsing," you lie, the excuse feeling hollow even to you. You get up walking towards him before adding quickly, "Please don’t tell Dazai."

Chuuya hesitates, his eyes searching yours, before he nods, accepting your words without question. He hands you his handkerchief, his expression softening with sympathy as you take it from him.

You dab at your eyes, feeling the wetness seep into it, and then take a deep breath. You can’t afford to break down, not now. Not in front of him.

He escorted you to Dazai’s office, his presence a quiet comfort. At the door, he gave you a final, soft look before turning away.

The office door creaked open, and you stepped inside, the chill of the room amplifying the coldness you already felt. Dazai looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your disheveled state.

“Rough day?” he asked, voice so velvetly soft that it could melt you.

You tried to muster a casual smile, but it felt hollow. “Just had a run-in with some old... baggage. Nothing to worry about.”

Dazai’s eyes didn’t leave you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “You know I don’t buy that ‘nothing’ act. What’s really going on?”

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your voice steady. “It’s really not your concern. I’m handling it.”

Dazai’s gaze was sharp as he looked you up from his desk, his usual lazy posture replaced by a steely focus. “Come here,” he said, a command wrapped in casual tones.

Reluctantly, you approached, his eyes never leaving you. He patted his lap, a gesture both familiar and unsettling. “Sit.”

You shook your head, trying to avoid his intense stare, oh god how he toys with your emotions. “I’m fine standing.”

Dazai’s expression darkened slightly, his patience wearing thin. He reached out, his fingers grazing your wrist as he pulled you closer. The touch was feather-light but unmistakably commanding. He guided you gently onto his lap, his hands resting on your waist.

You stiffened, trying to keep your breathing steady. “Osamu, really, it’s nothing.”

Ignoring your protests, Dazai’s lips brushed against your neck, his kisses soft but insistent. You tilted your head, a soft whimper escaping your lips. The sensation was like a nicotine hit after a long withdrawal; you had been away on a mission for three days, and you had missed his touch more than you cared to admit. As his lips continued their tender assault, he pulled your shirt down slightly, revealing the fresh bruise that marred your skin.

Dazai’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint reflecting in them. The bruise was vivid, a stark contrast against your pale skin, and his expression darkened as he took in the sight.

“Who did this?” he asked coldly, his voice remained low.

You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s not important.”

Dazai’s hand tightened on your waist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tilted your head back. His kisses turned sharper, more insistent, and you couldn’t help but let out soft whimpers. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips pressing harder with each passing second. “I said who did this..”

You swallowed hard, the pressure of his words mixing with the lingering sting of the bruise. “It’s nothing. Just...someone from my past.”

His grip remained unyielding, his gaze piercing. “I don’t like secrets. Especially ones that involve you getting hurt.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the weight of his expectations pressing down. You felt cornered, unable to escape the intensity of his scrutiny. “I said it’s nothing. Please, just let it go.”

Dazai’s expression remained impassive for a moment, then he simply nodded. The acknowledgment was neither reassuring nor dismissive, leaving a cold tension in the air.

After a few seconds of silence Dazai's voice cut through the room, his fingers still brushing against your skin. “The thing is, my love, you don’t have to tell me anything.” He turned to the intercom on his desk, his tone shifting to a cold, commanding edge. “Atsushi, you can bring him in now.”

Your eyes widened in shock, your legs going weak as you tried to turn your head towards the door. It creaked open slightly, and Atsushi rushed in, dragging your ex behind him. Your ex’s hands were bound tightly, and he was unconscious, a cloth over his mouth. Atsushi tossed him roughly onto the floor and announced, “I brought him alive, just as you ordered.”

“Good work, Atsushi,” he said calmly. “You can leave now.”

Dazai’s gaze remained on you, his smile twisted with a cruel satisfaction as Atsushi closed the door behind him. He lifted your legs lightly, forcing you to stand as he moved toward the prone figure of your ex, who was beginning to stir. Dazai’s fingers traced along your ex’s jawline with an unsettling gentleness.

Horror gripped you as you watched, understanding what was about to unfold. You begged, your voice trembling, “Please, Dazai, don’t kill him.”

He merely tsked in response, his eyes cold and unyielding. “I’m not going to kill him.”

Before you could take a deep breath, his voice sliced through the tension like an arrow. “You are the one who's going to do it.” He gently grabs your hands placing a gun between them.

Your hands trembled as you held the gun, the cold metal biting into your palms. The room was deathly silent except for the faint, ragged breaths of your ex as he began to regain consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a mix of confusion and fear as he took in his surroundings.

Dazai’s cold eyes were locked on you.“Go on,” he urged softly. “You wanted him to suffer for what he did. Here’s your chance.”

The gun felt impossibly heavy, and your heart pounded in your chest. You glanced at your ex, his eyes widening in terror as he realized what was happening. “Please,” you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone else. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

Dazai’s smile widened slightly. “It doesn’t matter what you wanted. You’ve been given a choice. What will you do with it?”

Your mind raced, grappling with the gravity of the situation. You thought of the pain he’d caused you, the fear he had instilled, and the bruises that still stung. Yet, the thought of ending his life filled you with a profound dread. You felt trapped, the decision crushing under the weight of Dazai’s expectation and your own turmoil.

“Do it,” Dazai said, his voice a soft command, almost a caress. “Or I’ll do it for you. But if I do, you’ll have missed your chance to decide your own fate.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you faced your ex, his terror and confusion mirroring your own. Choked sobs left you lips Dazai’s gaze followed every movement with a sick interest.

“Please, Dazai..don’t make me do this,” you pleaded, your voice cracking.

Dazai’s expressionwas stoic as ever. “You’re not being asked to make a choice you can’t live with. You’re being given the chance to claim control over your own life.”

With a final, desperate look at your ex, you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The gun felt like a lead weight in your hand, the gravity of your decision pressing down on you. Finally, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, you raised the gun.

You closed your eyes tightly, the room spinning as you tried to steady your racing heart. The gun trembled in your grip, the weight of the decision nearly unbearable. You heard Dazai move behind you, his footsteps silent against the floor.

His presence was almost soothing as he came closer, but you knew better than to trust the comfort of his proximity. Dazai's hands settled on your outstretched arms, his touch both firm and unsettlingly gentle. His fingers caressed the metal of the gun, guiding it with a measured pressure.

“You don’t need to hesitate,” Dazai murmured softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve already made the decision. Now, you just need to follow through.”

The sensation of his hands on yours, the intimate pressure of his grip, made your breathing shallow and uneven. You felt a dark, twisted sense of helplessness as his fingers guided the gun, aligning it with your ex’s trembling form.

“I’ll count to three,” Dazai continued, his voice was steady “And when I reach three, I want you to pull the trigger. Don’t let yourself falter.”

You felt his breath on your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. The intimacy of his touch contrasted sharply with the gravity of the moment. You wanted to pull away, to escape the suffocating pressure, but his grip held you firmly in place.

“One,” Dazai said, his voice calm as he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

Your tears fell silently as you fought against the urge to drop the gun.

“Two,” Dazai’s breath was warm as he pressed another kiss.

You could hear your ex’s shallow breaths, his eyes pleading as they met yours.

“Three,” Dazai said, his voice now a commanding whisper.

With a final, shuddering breath, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the world as you pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot echoed painfully in the room, and you felt the impact of the action resonate through your very core.

You opened your eyes, your arms fell limp as the gun slipped from your grasp, hitting the floor with a hollow clatter. You staggered back, your legs barely holding you upright, and turned away from the grim sight before you.

Dazai’s grip on your shoulders was a cold anchor as he held you steady, his touch paradoxically soothing yet possessive. You could feel his breath against your neck as he leaned in close, his voice a chilling murmur. “Well done,” he said placing soft kisses again as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling your back against his chest. “You’ve proven your resolve.”

You felt a wave of nausea and despair wash over you, your emotions a tangled mess of guilt and horror. The room spun as you tried to make sense of the scene in front of you. The body on the floor was now still, the weight of your actions sinking in with a heavy finality.

Dazai’s hands slid down to your wrists, his touch now insistent as he forced you to look at the aftermath. “Do you see what you’ve done?” he asked softly, his voice a mix of praise and dark satisfaction. “You’ve taken control of your own fate.”

You tried to pull away, but his grip was firm, his presence an oppressive force that left you feeling trapped. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any semblance of escape, but all you found was the unyielding gaze of Dazai, his face reflecting a mixture of cold pleasure and calculated dominance.

His fingers gently traced your jawline, his touch both tender and unsettling. “It’s done now,” he said, his voice almost affectionate. “You did great, my love.”

The finality of his words echoed in your mind as you struggled to come to terms with what had just happened. The tears streaming down your face were a testament to the turmoil within you, the depth of your inner conflict clear as you fought to keep yourself composed.

Dazai’s hands gently turned you around to face him. His expression, though tinged with satisfaction, softened as he wiped away the tears streaming down your face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as he carefully brushed away the last remnants of your distress.

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The tenderness of the moment was jarring against the harsh reality of what had just occurred. His lips moved gently against yours, and he licked your bottom lip before drawing it into a passionate, consuming kiss.

The warmth of his kiss contrasted sharply with the icy numbness you felt inside. You felt his fingers trace your face, lingering on the slight traces of blood that you hadn’t even noticed. His touch was delicate, almost intimate, as he wiped away the remnants with careful precision.

Dazai pulled away from the kiss, his expression unreadable as he reached for the intercom on his desk. “Atsushi,” he said with a cold, commanding tone, “bring in the clean-up crew. Dispose the body.”

Atsushi entered the room, his eyes shifting between you and Dazai. He bowed slightly, acknowledging the order before moving towards the body. As he lifted your ex’s lifeless form, the finality of the situation hit you with renewed force. You stared blankly, more tears streaming down your face, as Atsushi carried the body out and closed the door behind him.

The room was filled with the soft hum of Dazai’s presence as he moved back in front of you. He gently placed his hands on your cheeks, shushing you softly as your sobs grew louder. “Shh, it’s alright,”he murmured, his voice almost soothing.

You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, your sobs escaping in ragged bursts. Dazai’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. His embrace was both comforting and suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice a murmur against your hair. “I know it was hard.”

You could barely respond, the weight of your own emotions too heavy to articulate. All you could do was clutch at him, your sobs muffled against his chest as the realization of what had happened continued to sink in. You hated him, and yet, in the chaos of your emotions, you felt a desperate, confusing affection for him—a love that seemed to only grow more complicated in the aftermath of his actions.

Dazai’s fingers gently combed through your hair, his touch soothing despite the circumstances. “It’s all over now,” he said softly.

His lips brushed against your forehead in a tender kiss, “He should've known better than to touch what's mine.”

The room was filled with the constant contact of your colliding bodies. Your body arched against the rumpled sheets as his thrusts filled you completely, each stroke hitting exactly the right spots.

" Mmm.. that's it my love, take my cock all the way inside this pretty eager pussy of yours" he growled softly against your skin.

You relished the way every thrust brushed against your cervix, sending waves of pleasure through you. The intensity of his movements left you feeling utterly consumed, your mind hazed and eyes glossy with desire. Your fingers dug into his back, desperately clutching him as he moved with a raw intensity.

His lips traveled down your neck, biting and kissing with a fervent need. One hand cupped your breast with a possessive grip while his mouth hovered over the other, teasing with gentle flicks of his tongue and playful nips at your nipple. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, your moans filling the space between you.

Yet, even in the midst of this passion, your mind began to wander. The memories of the past few days—the confrontation, the guilt, and Dazai’s chilling command—flooded your thoughts, turning the intense pleasure into a distant murmur. You felt a growing disconnection, your body reacting while your mind struggled to stay present.

Sensing the abrupt change, Dazai felt as if he were thrusting into a lifeless body. He slowed his movements and pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a rare softness. “What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, concern filling his lustrous gaze.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself as your voice, though shaky, was firm. “It’s fine,” you reassured him, forcing a weak smile. “I just... got lost in my thoughts for a moment. It’s nothing.” You reached out to gently touch his cheek, trying to convey that the issue was more internal than it was about him.

Dazai took a deep breath and shifted to sit upright, his concern still evident. “You're still thinking about it, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine worry.

"Please, just forget about it." you said, pulling his wrist with a firm but gentle grip. Before he could respond, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him deeply to steer your focus back to the present.

Dazai gasped into the kiss, his breath hitching as your kissed him with fervor. He gently pinned your wrists down with a possessive grip, his lips trailing soft kisses along your chest. He positioned himself again, his cock pressing against your throbbing cunt, his voice a low murmur.

“We can stop if it’s too much, my love,” he whispered as his chest moves up and down with each breath.

You locked gaze with his eyes, “Just fuck me already,” you breathed. You wanted to reclaim the moment, to bury the past beneath the intense passion that bound you both.

He slams his cock into you again, filling you completely. A growl escapes his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying the sight of your reactions. His thrusts become more powerful, and he showers your neck, chest, and breasts with fervent kisses.

"So addict to my cock, love? Hmm?" he continues to taunt you with his words and delivers a firm slap to your ass, making you shiver from his touch.

You gasp, arching your back as his thrusts hit all the right spots. “It feels so good, 'samu” you breathe, trying to steady yourself.

He slaps your ass again, making you shiver and whimper. “Say it again, my love haah~ I need to hear you say how good ugh~I’m making you feel.”

“s'good,” you moan, your voice breaking.

"Good" with a satisfied growl, he pulls out. “Now, ride me.”

You nod, your legs trembling in anticipation. As you position yourself over him, he hisses at the sensation of your cold hand guiding his hard, leaking cock to your eager, wet cunt.

As you sink down onto him, your walls stretches to accommodate his size, a deep moan slipping from your lips as you take him in fully. The feeling is overwhelming, your inner walls tightening around him, drawing a sharp gasp from both of you.

His long slender fingers grip your hips, helping you find a rhythm as you begin to ride against him. Each roll of your hips sends waves of pleasure through you, the friction making you shudder.

You lean forward, your fingers fumbling as you carefully remove the bandage from his eye. Your breath is hot against his neck as you whisper, “’Samu, I love you.” Your body presses against his, and with a surge of passion, you begin to ride him at a faster pace, each movement gaining a growl from him.

His eye, now fully exposed, darkens with lust as he gazes up at you. “I love you too, darling,” he murmurs through soft gasps. He meets your rhythm with powerful thrusts, each one driving deeper into you, matching your pace perfectly.

Feeling the pressure building within you, your moans grow louder. “I’m... close, ‘Samu,” you gasp, your trembling hands held onto his shoulders for support as you ride him faster, rolling your hips against his perfect sized cock feeling him hit every spot with his thrusts against you.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he groans in pleasure. “Oh yeah? Come all over my cock, love,” beads of sweat rolling down his temples, his words sending you spiraling closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you through the overwhelming waves of pleasure as your body trembles in his grasp.

The coil inside you finally snaps, releasing a wave of ecstasy that washes over you. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m coming, ah~ hmm~,” you cry out, your body going numb from the overwhelming pleasure. Your juices flow freely, spilling down and coating his cock as his thrusts become more intense, shaking your body upwards.

Dazai's growls of satisfaction mix with your moans as he thrusts upward forcefully, riding out his own climax. His body shudders with the release, and he moans loudly, his pleasure echoing through the room.

As the intense waves of pleasure begin to subside, Dazai slowly pulls out, his breath heavy and ragged. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close tenderly. The warmth of his embrace soothes you, bringing a sense of comfort and safety as you both calm down from your shared high. His fingers gently caress circles on your back, his breathing gradually steadying as he murmurs softly into your ear, “God, you did so well, my love.”

You watch him as he gets up, stretching slightly before heading towards the bathroom, the soft hum of water barely filling the room as he turns on the shower. The warmth of the bed still lingers around you, but it does little to quell the chill creeping into your thoughts.

Your mind drifts back to that moment a few days ago. The weight of the gun in your hand, the resistance of the trigger as you squeezed it—it's all so vivid, so real, that it feels as if you're still there, frozen in that moment. You can almost hear the echoes of the shot ringing in your ears, see the flash of surprise in his eyes as life slipped away from him.

You shake your head, trying to dispel the images, but they cling stubbornly, refusing to let go.

He calls your name from the shower, his voice gentle, inviting, yet tinged with concern when you don’t respond immediately. The sound is almost enough to pull you back, but your mind remains caught in that dark place, replaying the scene over and over.

"My love?" another call, softer this time, as he pushes the already ajar bathroom door further open to check on you. His presence pulls you back just enough to acknowledge him, to let the past slip away—at least for now.

His eyes meet yours, concern etched on his face. “Are you okay?”

You nod, forcing yourself to sit up. “I’m fine,” You managed to get off the bed, the cool air brushing against your naked skin, grounding you somewhat.

As you step into the bathroom, your body moves on autopilot, but your mind remains distant. You tell yourself that in a week or so, the memory will fade, that the guilt will lessen, that you’ll forget. But deep down, you know it's just another lie you’re feeding yourself, another attempt to bury the truth under layers of denial.

He steps aside to let you join him under the warm cascade of water, his arms wrapping around you as he senses your unease. “Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you’re safe with me, my love.”

You nod, leaning into his embrace, but the words feel hollow, the comfort fleeting. The water washes over you, warm and soothing, but it can’t cleanse the darkness that lingers within.

You stood in front of the mirror, the dim light casting shadows on your face. Your reflection stared back at you, hollow eyes and a face pale from sleepless nights. The trauma of the past week weighed heavily on you, the memory of the blood-soaked room and the desperate cries of your ex replaying in your mind over and over again.

It had been a week since that horrifying event, but still the memory still clung to your mind like a stubborn stain. Dazai had been more affectionate than usual since then, uncharacteristically tender in his way.

The intimacy between you had taken on a new, softer turn, the moments shared tinged with an almost fragile gentleness. His eyes, once so sharp, now held an unsettling softness, as if he were trying to erase the darkness with his own brand of twisted comfort.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were trapped—caught in a web he’d spun so intricately that you hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

You had tried to bury the memory, to push it away with every ounce of strength you had. But it never really left, lurking in the corners of your mind—what you had been forced to do.

You needed a break, a breath of fresh air, anything to push back the suffocating fog that had taken over your mind. So, you grabbed your coat, slipped into your favourite boots, and stepped out of your apartment, clinging to the hope of finding some shred of normalcy.

The bar was a refuge, a place where the world’s harsh edges seemed to dull. It was where you went to forget, even if only for a little while. As you walked through the door, the familiar clink of glasses and murmur of conversation welcomed you. The warmth inside, the smoky haze and soft jazz music they all played a part into easing you up even for a bit.

You made your way to the bar, your usual seat already occupied. The bartender greeted you with a nod, his understanding gaze a small comfort. You ordered your drink and settled into your chair, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness from the past week.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. You picked it up and saw a message from Chuuya: "Hey, just checking in. Are you okay? I’m worried about you."

You typed back: "I’m fine, just needed some time to clear my head. At the bar now, trying to relax a bit." You hit send and put your phone down, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

That's when you heard a familiar voice. You looked up and saw Kaito standing there, a surprise that made your heart skip. It had been years since you last saw him. He was the one who had helped you escape from your ex's grip, the only person who had reached out to pull you from that nightmare.

“Hey..." he said, his voice warm but edged with worry. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You gestured to the empty seat beside you. “Sit. I could use the company.”

Kaito slid into the chair, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You look... different. Is everything okay?”

The question was like a trigger, a floodgate that opened the dam of your emotions. You looked away, taking a deep breath. “It’s been... a rough week.”

He looked at you concerned, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he ordered a drink, and the two of you sat in silence for a while, before he broke the silence.

“I heard your ex went missing. I just wanted to check in...uh...make sure you’re alright. I know how much he hurt you.”

The mention of your ex was like a punch to the gut, the memory of that night resurfacing with cruel clarity. You struggled to keep your composure, taking a sip of your drink to steady yourself. “I... I don’t know what happened to him.”

Kaito’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. “I just wanted to make sure he’s not plotting anything or trying to reach you again. I know what he put you through.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. “Thank you...but seriously I don't know anything about him.”

Before Kaito could respond, your phone buzzed again. You glanced at it and saw a new message from Chuuya: “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

You were about to reply when Kaito’s voice broke through your thoughts. “ You okay? You seem a bit lost."

You forced a smile, brushing off the concern. “It’s nothing. I just needed a bit of air.”

You stood up, glancing at Kaito. “It was really nice seeing you after all tonight.”

You placed a few yen on the bar as a tip and offered Kaito a final, appreciative look before heading towards the door. Stepping out into the cool night air, you took a deep breath, hoping the walk would clear your head. Hearing the door swung shut behind you.

The crisp breeze brushed against your face as you began walking down the pavement, each step attempting to ground you in the present, you tried to focus on the rhythmic sound of your footsteps, letting the chill seep through your coat and numb your thoughts.

Just as you were beginning to lose yourself in the soothing cadence of the night, a familiar voice cut through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. It was a voice you knew too well, one that you loved the most—Dazai’s.

Turning slowly, you saw him standing there, his figure framed by the dim streetlights.

“Out for a late-night stroll?” His voice was low and smooth so so smooth.

"Osamu" You whispered his name, barely audible over the street noise, as he approached you. His tall frame seemed to shield you from the harsh cold breeze that had been nipping at your skin.

His arms reached out, pulling you into a desperate, intense embrace. The warmth of his body pierced through the biting cold of the night. You closed your eyes, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his captivating perfume that you were addicted to.

“How are you feeling, my love?” the vibrations of his soft voice soothed you.

You murmured a reply, “Fine,” nuzzling your face into his warm chest. His coat offered a cocoon of comfort against the cold. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that both soothed and troubled you. His soft, cold lips brushed gentle kisses against your hairline, each touch leaving you wanting more.

Dazai’s gaze softened as he tilted your head gently, his fingers brushing against your cheeks with tender.

His lips, still cold from the evening air, found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. The sensation was electric, a jolt of warmth that spread through you, making you forget the cold that had been clinging to you just moments before.

Your lips parted slightly, and you felt his bottom lip against yours, his kiss deepening as he traced a path of warmth across your mouth. His hands roamed softly over your body, every touch sending shivers down your spine.

When he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours filled with affection. “I’ve got a surprise for you, my love,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

“A surprise?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper as your heart fluttered. The night’s chill seemed to dissipate as you gazed up at him, eager to discover what he had under his sleeve.

Dazai’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he said, “Follow me, my love.” He guided you through the city streets, leading you to his penthouse—an opulent space you were intimately familiar with. As you entered, the familiar strains of soft jazz filled the room, its soothing melodies filled your ears.

You shrugged off your coat and sank into the nearby couch, glancing up at him curious.

“You know how much I cherish you, don’t you?”

You nodded, a shiver running down your spine. What is he intending to do?

“And you remember when I swore to protect you with my life, back when we shared our first night together?” His eyes bore into yours, searching for affirmation.

Again, you nodded, feeling a knot of unease tightening in your stomach.

He reached out and took your hand, leading you to a door you had never entered before. He typed in a series of digits, and the door slid open with a soft whoosh. What lay beyond sent a jolt of shock through you: Kaito, tied up against the wall with chains, his eyes wide with fear.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you stared at the scene in disbelief.

Dazai’s gaze on you never wavered. “You recognize him, don’t you? The one who claimed to be your savior,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of derision. “Kaito, the one who helped you escape. Such a noble act, don’t you think?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the sight before you. “No... no, this can’t be real,” you stammered, the words spilling from your lips in a disbelieving murmur. “This isn’t happening. Not again.”

Dazai stepped closer, his expression both smug and infuriatingly calm. “Isn’t it? How often have you been deceived by those who promised you protection and safety? This was no different.”

You shook your head, trying to process the absurdity of it all. “But Kaito—he was different! He helped me when I needed it most. You don't understand he's the only one who saved me from my ex.”

The disillusionment in your voice only seemed to amuse Dazai. “And you think that makes him any less of a threat? How easily you’ve been misled. Did you ever consider that he was simply another pawn in your ex’s game? A way to keep you within his reach?”

Your gaze shifted to Kaito, who was now looking at you with desperation. The realization that Dazai might be telling the truth hit you like a physical blow. “No, he can’t be. He was... he was kind to me. He never hurt me.”

Dazai’s gaze was unrelenting, his tone dripping with cold logic. “Kindness can be deceiving. Sometimes, it’s just a means to an end. Kaito’s actions were a calculated move, meant to keep you under control, to make you trust him while feeding information to your ex.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you faced Dazai, the weight of his words crushing you. “You’re... you’re insane! You can’t do this to me again. STOP IT STOP HURTING ME!”

Dazai’s hand reached up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold and unyielding, the warmth of his voice now a sharp contrast to the icy anger in his eyes. “I’m not insane. I’m showing you the truth, my love. Kaito was never your friend. If you don’t make a choice now, I will choose for you.”

The room seemed to close in around you, your heart pounding wildly. You were ensnared between the echoes of your past and the oppressive reality Dazai had crafted, desperately searching for an escape from the nightmare he had ensnared you in.

Dazai's lips curved into a passionate smile as he placed the cold, heavy gun into your trembling hands. The weapon, tainted with the blood of your ex, seemed to burn with its own malevolent energy. His eyes gleamed with a twisted sense of pride.

“Come on, my love,” he urged, his voice laced with a seductive intensity. “Take control of your own life. Show everyone that you’re not someone to be trifled with. Make them fear you. No one dares to hurt you again.”

His words echoed through the room, mingling with the suffocating tension that surrounded you. The weight of the gun felt like a cruel burden, a symbol of the power Dazai was forcing upon you.

As you looked at Kaito, bound and vulnerable, a storm of emotions raged inside you. Dazai’s gaze remained unwavering, his expectations clear: the choice was yours to make, but his influence loomed over every decision.

The gun felt like a leaden weight in your hands, the reality of the situation crashing down upon you. Tears streamed down your face as you crumpled, the gun slipping from your grasp and clattering to the floor. Your voice, choked with despair, broke through the oppressive silence.

“I can’t do this again... not again,” you sobbed, shaking your head furiously. You pulled your legs to your chest, curling up in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the cruelty of Dazai’s demands.

Dazai’s expression shifted from steely determination to a weary sigh. With a resigned shake of his head, he stepped forward, reclaiming the gun from where it had fallen. His movements were deliberate, almost tender, as he aimed it at Kaito, who stared back in terror.

Three shots rang out, each one echoing with finality. The sound was deafening, reverberating through the room and drowning out your anguished cries. The finality of the act left you in stunned silence, your body trembling as you remained huddled on the floor, the gravity of what had just occurred sinking in.

“No... you didn’t...” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your eyes were fixed on the lifeless form of Kaito, disbelief and anguish washing over you.

Dazai’s sigh was heavy with disappointment as he shook his head slowly. “I’m disappointed in you, my love,” he said, his voice carrying a cold edge. “You couldn’t take control of your life this time. You think I’m the one hurting you? They’re the ones who’ve been hurting you all along.”

His gaze was unwavering, a mixture of pity and resolve in his eyes as he stepped closer. “I did this to protect you from them, to ensure that you’re never vulnerable again. It’s always been about keeping you safe from those who would harm you. I did what was necessary to shield you from your past.”

You shook your head violently, the world around you spinning as you scrambled to your feet. Adrenaline surged through your veins, propelling you to the door. You flung it open and sprinted down the hall, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Where are you going my love, please come back.” His footsteps pounded after you. “Don’t do this. I love you! This is meaningless—everything I did was to protect you!”

But you couldn’t bear to hear him anymore. “I want to stay away from you!” you screamed, your voice cracking with raw desperation.

You burst out of his penthouse and into the cold night air, the chill biting at your exposed skin. Your vision blurred with tears, making the city lights shimmer and swirl. You fumbled for your phone, dialing Chuuya’s number with trembling fingers.

The line rang a few times before a sleepy voice answered, muffled by grogginess. “Chuuya...” you gasped between breaths. “I—I'm leaving. I—will run away from here. He did it again, Chuuya.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by Chuuya’s urgent voice, now fully awake. “Where are you? Are you safe? Just stay on the line. I’m coming to get you.”

Your voice trembled as you spoke into the phone, trying to keep your words steady despite the panic swelling inside you. “Chuuya, no… don’t come. Please. I don’t want you to get into trouble. I’ll… I’ll manage to get away by myself.”

Chuuya’s voice was firm and insistent. “Don’t be stupid. I’m coming. Just tell me where you are.”

You forced yourself to keep moving, trying to steady your breath despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “Chuuya, listen to me,” you said, your voice shaking. “I just called to let you know. I need you to stay out of this. It’s too dangerous. I can��t risk you getting hurt because of me.”

“I don’t like this at all. You’re obviously not okay. I need to be there with you.” You could hear the sounds of him hurriedly getting dressed in the background.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya, but I can't-” you said firmly.

Before he could protest further, you ended the call, the sound of the disconnect echoing in the quiet of the night.

You made your way through the winding streets, heading towards a nondescript building nestled away from prying eyes. It had been your refuge years before, a place where you could escape the chaos and find peace in solitude. Now, it was the final sanctuary you turned to as you prepared to leave everything behind.

The old studio was just as you remembered it—dusty but comforting, filled with the quiet hum of memories. You approached the closet where you had stored a suitcase, its worn exterior a testament to its many years of service. You opened it, the familiar smell of old leather and fabric greeting you.

With calculated movements, you began packing the clothes you’d kept from simpler times—soft sweaters, faded jeans, and a few cherished pieces that held fragments of your past. Each item you folded and placed into the suitcase carried a piece of who you used to be, the person you were before the mafia and before Dazai.

As you worked, the thought of leaving Dazai behind gnawed at you, filling you with an intense, suffocating agony. Despite everything he had done, the idea of severing ties with him was a painful wrenching of the heart. Yet, the realization that staying would only bring more torment drove you to continue, each movement of packing a silent affirmation of your resolve.

You zipped up the suitcase, the sound of the closure echoing in the empty room. The decision to leave the city and all its shadows behind was a heavy one, but necessary. With a final glance around the studio, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the journey ahead. The train would take you far from this place, and despite the heartache, you knew it was the only way forward.

Before you could make another move, a voice cut through the silence of the studio. "My love, are you leaving me?" The words were laced with a deep sadness, sending a jolts all over your body.

You spun around, disbelief etched across your face. "How did you find me?" you demanded, your voice trembling.

Dazai stood in the doorway with a hurt expression written all over his face.

He stepped closer sighing, "The bracelet,” he said quietly, holding up your wrist to reveal the piece of jewelry you had thought was a mere token of affection given to you two years ago. “It has a tracker embedded in it. I had it activated in case you were ever in danger.”

The weight of his words hit you like a physical blow. The realization that he had been monitoring you all along, even in your attempts to escape, left you reeling. You stared at him, your resolve faltering but your heart aching with an overwhelming confusion.

“Why did you have to follow me?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

He took another step closer, his gaze pleading. “Because I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I know you're probably thinking that I’m just some insane man who’s only hurting you. But you have to understand, my actions come from a place of deep love. I need you to see past the madness and understand how much you mean to me.”

"Is this how you show love, Dazai? By trapping me and manipulating me?" you said, your voice trembling. "You don't get to decide what's best for me by controlling every aspect of my life."

Dazai's expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I’m twisted and flawed, but I thought... I thought that if I could keep you close, I could protect you from everything else. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You shook your head, the finality of your decision settling in. “You’ve hurt me more than you know. I can’t stay here. I can't stay anxious, wondering who you’ll force me to kill next.”

Dazai’s eyes grew darker, his voice tainted with desperation. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. Everything I did was to keep you safe in comtrol of your own life, even if it means making terrible choices.”

You scoffed, “Safe? You forced me to kill my ex! And then Kaito?”

Dazai’s face tightened. “He was a traitor. He manipulated you all this time. I told you.”

“Even if!” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think I wanted them dead? I never wanted any of this! You think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is turning my life into a nightmare, forcing me to make impossible choices.”

He reached out, but you flinched away. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I know I’ve gone too far. I only wanted to protect you, but I see now that I’ve lost sight of what’s right.”

The realization hit you hard. “Lost sight of what’s right? You’ve lost sight of everything that matters. I’m leaving, Dazai. I can’t stay here any longer.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with pain, that you've never seen before, “Please, don’t go. I’ll do anything to make this right. Just... stay and let me fix this.”

You shook your head, “It’s too late. I can’t trust you anymore. I need to get away from this life, from you. Goodbye, Dazai.”

Turning around you held the suitcase tightly, your hand shaking as you reached for the door. Just as you were about to open it, the sharp click of a gun safety being disengaged froze you in place.

You turned slowly, your eyes widening in horror as you saw Dazai standing there. The cold, manipulative mafia boss you had come to fear and loathe was now a broken man, his usual confident demeanor shattered. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat of his desperate resolve.

The gun was pressed against his temple, his hand trembling slightly. His gaze was locked onto you, the anguish in his eyes more raw than you’d ever seen. The sight was a gut-wrenching contrast to the man you had known—this was not the calculating Dazai but a man at the edge of his sanity, driven to an extreme.

“Don’t... don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. “Dazai, put the gun down.”

His tears fell faster, “If you leave, I can’t bear it. I’d rather end it all than live with the fact that I lost you.”

You took a step toward him, the suitcase slipping from your grip as fear and heartbreak twisted inside you. “Dazai, please. Put the gun down. We can figure this out.”

His voice trembled, a fragile whisper on the brink of breaking. “I never valued life until you entered mine. If you choose to leave, then I too must follow.”

You rushed towards him, heart pounding with desperation. As you approached, you gently took the gun from his trembling hand, lowering it to the floor. His body crumpled, and he collapsed into your embrace, clutching you tightly as if afraid you might vanish.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you whispered soothingly, your own voice trembling as you tried to calm him. You stroked his brunet soft hair gently, your heart aching as you held him close. “It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll figure this out together.”

His sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven as he clung to you. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry I'm sorry.”

You continued to soothe him, the weight of his despair pressing heavily on your chest. You could see through his anguish, past the facade of his calculated mind to the raw, broken man beneath. Even as his twisted personality had driven him to force your hand, there was no denying the genuine love he felt—a love that, despite its darkness, was deeply real.

The room, dim and cold, was filled with the sound of his muffled sobs, each breath a testament to his remorse and anguish. You held him tightly, trying to offer comfort, though your own heart ached with uncertainty. You knew too well the manipulative games he played, but in this moment, you could see the truth in him. His despair was not a ploy, but a genuine expression of his torment and love.

Gently, you reached up and removed the soaked bandage from his eye. His gaze locked onto yours, filled with a sorrow so profound it was almost unbearable. His face was etched with the pain of his past actions, and as you held him, you admired his beautiful brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw and fragile. “I’ll never do this again. I promise. I never wanted to hurt you. I was desperate, and I let my own twisted mind control me. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do everything to make this right. Please... stay with me.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerable man who had been pushed to extremes. The cold dim room seemed to shrink around you, the shadows of his past mistakes lingering but overshadowed by his sincere apology. You took a deep breath, your own heart softening despite the pain.

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your voice was soothing him.

He nodded against your shoulder, his sobs gradually subsiding as he clung to you.

“Despite everything... despite your scheming and the cold, manipulative persona you put up, you have no idea how much I love you,” you whispered, the words heavy with the depth of your emotions.

Dazai’s eyes softened as he met your gaze, his voice trembling as he replied, “I love you too, my dear.”

With those words, he kissed you softly, his lips warm and tender against yours. The delicate caress of his kiss pulled you closer, making you surrender to the embrace he offered. In that fleeting moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the solace of his arms and the twisted love you shared.

➵Want more of Osamu Dazai ?

[harmeu]

Falling Tears

(BSD MEN REACT TO THEIR SPOUSE CRYING)

(GN!Reader)

Dazai Osamu:

We all know Dazai is one to shrug off people's problems as if it were a measly little thing that was nothing to fuss over. The casual “You’ll be fine~!” But we all also know that Dazai cares for you. He loves you. If you were to sob in front of him it’d send him into an overdrive of broken worry.

You were tired. Sick and tired. It felt as if everyone was shrugging you off of your problems and you ran to the agency bathroom because your throat closed up and felt water appearing in your eyes. 

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

You knew those footsteps. It was your boyfriend. Dazai. You immediately began trying to wipe the tears, imagining that if Dazai were to see he’d try to stifle his laughter because of all those times he waved off your problems and vents. Sadly the tears couldn’t stop and now you were a flushed mess looking down to avoid his gaze. It was piercing.

“Darling what's this? Why’re you trying to hide your pretty face from meee~?” He cooed tilting your head up, having a playful smile but it broke as he noticed your tears. 

“Oh..what happened.?” 

“No one listens or takes me seriously. Not even you! I’m tired. Go away.” You try to shrug him off but he grasps your hands pulling you onto his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He frowned, his face softening. “I’m the asshole for ignoring. I should've known.” Worry was evident on his handsome face and you flushed at his words. You really needed to hear that. As Dazai apologized he peppered your face with kisses.

“Next time slap me if I brush off your problems. I might like it if you slap me though.” He winked which you scoffed at, holding back a chuckle.

Chuuya Nakahara:

Chuuya, despite being someone who definitely needs anger management classes will get immensely suspicious if you were to get the tiniest bit of a frown on your face. “Are you alright?” He’d constantly ask and once you break down his heart shatters.

You collapsed onto your bed spasming a bit from trying to hold back your tears. You knew you could tell Chuuya your love about your problems. Though there was a thing inside of you that said that he would be forcing himself to comfort you so you kept your mouth shut silently sobbing into a pillow curled up.

You flinched as the door knob cranked open revealing your boyfriend with wide eyes as he saw you so disheveled.

“What's wrong doll?” He murmured going to you and sitting beside you on the bed taking his gloved fingers to stroke your back delicately.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t wanna bother.” You mumble back looking back down at the pillow you sobbed into.

“Tell me who did it.” Chuuyas glare becomes more pronounced as seconds pass and you almost chuckle at his overprotectiveness.

“I’m just tired.” You say averting your gaze.

“I can be your stress relief.” He stared and flushed at his own words, scowling. “Not like that! Like..my arms are free for you.”

You laughed and dug yourself deep into his chest nuzzling as Chuuya put his chin on your head, kissing it gently.

Ranpo Edogawa:

This piece of shit of an egotistical man will KNOW your sad but won’t do anything about it. He’ll brush it off like Dazai in a more childish way. “I have better things to do!” He’d say casually sucking on his lollipop. But those once closed eyes would widen at the sight of your tears coming on display.

Everything and everyone was so mean. Why can’t they just understand you're tired?! You’ve tried. So. Many. Times. To talk to your boyfriend about your problems but he’d change the topic with what he was busy with.

Thinking no one was here you buried yourself into your desk of the agency, silent tears slipping out your eyes as you took a shaky breath, hands trembling beneath the desk. You sniffled but then heard a drop of some kind of food. Ice cream. Splat on the ground as you lift your head to see your boyfriend staring at you wide eyed, his glasses barely holding on.

“What?” You say annoyed wiping your tears so you don’t embarrass yourself further.

“You're crying.” He said as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world.

“No shit.” You rubbed your eyes frantically realizing the tears wouldn’t stop which turned into a sniffle fest and you averted your body from him in a fluster.

Footsteps came closer and you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind and a face nuzzle into your neck.

“Did I do it.?” Ranpo mumbled a childish tone evident in his voice.

“Your part of it.” You said between tears and then your boyfriend kissed the back of your neck sending shivers down you. You try to glare but he uses the puppy dog look to manipulate you. Damn it.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled averting his gaze.

You didn’t fully accept his apology but you did accept the kisses he kept giving you during this encounter making you flush.

(FIRST POST IN LIKE MONTHSOMG anyway)

[emmylksblog]

GAVI BF HEADCANONS!

based on this request

a/n: i think it's accurate to his personality, tried to fit everything i could think of. hope yall like it! 🫶🏻

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is terrible at hiding his emotions. If he’s mad about something, he’ll sulk for exactly five minutes before bursting out with whatever’s on his mind. But if it’s about you, his frustration softens immediately: “I’m not mad at you, okay? I just… I care too much, that’s all.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi gets super competitive with you, even over silly things. Whether it’s who can fold the laundry faster or who wins at Mario Kart, he’ll take it way too seriously. But if you win, he’ll let out a dramatic groan and accuse you of cheating—before pulling you into a playful hug. “Fine, you’re better. But only this time.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi loves spontaneous adventures. If you’re lying around on a lazy Sunday, he’ll suddenly grab your hand and say, “Get dressed—we’re going out.” He doesn’t always have a plan, but somehow, his impulsive nature makes every outing feel exciting, whether it’s a drive to nowhere or ice cream at midnight.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi hates being apart from you. If he has to leave for a game, he’ll call or text you nonstop: “What are you doing? Are you eating? Are you thinking about me?” His teammates tease him, but he doesn’t care. “Shut up, this is important,” he’ll say, grinning at his phone.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is easily flustered by compliments. If you tell him he looks good before a game, he’ll try to act cool, but his cheeks will flush immediately. He’ll mumble a quick “Gracias, guapa,” then pretend to focus on his laces just to hide how much he’s blushing.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi has no chill when it comes to showing affection. If he’s proud of you, he’ll shout it from the rooftops. If he misses you, he’ll tell you ten times in one call. “I don’t care if I’m being annoying—I just love you, okay?”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi’s protective instincts kick in everywhere. If you’re out walking and it starts to rain, he’ll instantly take off his jacket and throw it over your shoulders, muttering something about “not letting you get sick.” He acts like it’s no big deal, but he’ll grumble if you try to give it back.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is obsessed with your laugh. He’ll do anything to hear it—bad impressions, dumb jokes, or even tickling you mercilessly. When you tell him to stop, he’ll grin mischievously: “Not until you admit my jokes are funny!”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi has a short temper, but you’re his exception. If anyone else frustrates him, he’s quick to snap, but with you, he’ll pause, take a breath, and say, “I don’t want to argue with you. Let’s figure this out, yeah?” He’s not perfect, but he’s trying for you.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi always forgets his own stuff but never yours. He’ll leave his keys or wallet behind constantly, but if you’ve mentioned needing something, he’ll somehow remember and surprise you with it. “You said you ran out of this, right?” he’ll ask casually, secretly proud of himself.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi insists on being your biggest fan. Whether it’s something big like a work presentation or something small like making the perfect coffee, he’ll hype you up as if you just won an award: “That’s my girl! I told you you’re amazing.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi loves subtle physical touch. He’ll rest his hand on your knee during long car rides, tug gently at your sleeve if he wants your attention, or intertwine his pinky with yours when no one’s looking. It’s his way of saying, “I’m here. Always.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is a mess when it comes to surprises. He’ll try to plan something cute, like decorating your room or buying you flowers, but he’s so bad at keeping secrets that he’ll end up blurting it out before the surprise happens: “Okay, don’t be mad, but I have something planned… just act surprised, okay?”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi pretends he doesn’t like cheesy romantic movies. But when you make him watch one, he gets way too into it, yelling at the characters or tearing up at emotional scenes. “I’m not crying—it’s just allergies,” he’ll say, avoiding your teasing smirk.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi talks about the future without realizing it. Whether it’s casually mentioning how your kids would “definitely love football” or joking about what kind of house you’d live in, his words always carry that unspoken promise: “I’m not going anywhere.”

[satoruswifeyyyy]

megumi fushiguro vs. a nosy old hag

masterlist

it was a beautiful sunday afternoon, and the park buzzed with the cheerful noise of children playing on the swings, the occasional bark of overexcited dogs, and the distant hum of ice cream trucks. megumi walked beside you, his expression as stoic as ever, one hand casually shoved in his pocket, the other firmly gripping the handle of hana’s stroller. the little girl, barely a year old and bursting with energy, sat strapped in, her chubby hands reaching out for every leaf that passed her line of vision.

you sighed, watching her attempt to shove a particularly soggy leaf into her mouth. “hana, no. we don’t eat leaves.” you bent down to pry it from her tiny fingers, earning a stubborn pout from the toddler.

“she’s just like her dad,” megumi muttered, his eyes fixed ahead, his tone flat but laced with a hint of exasperation. “no sense of what’s edible and what’s not.”

a snort escaped you before you could stop it. “you’re not wrong. i once saw gojo eat sushi off the floor because he claimed it ‘built character.’”

megumi grimaced, his lips twitching upward ever so slightly. “he’s the reason hand sanitizer sales are still booming.”

the two of you exchanged a rare laugh, your banter bouncing effortlessly back and forth. hana, oblivious to the jokes at her father’s expense, giggled as though she were part of the conversation. it was one of those moments where everything felt perfect—until she appeared.

the old woman came shuffling down the path, her sharp eyes narrowing the second they landed on the three of you. she had the aura of someone who kept a mental list of everyone she disapproved of, and today, you and megumi were apparently at the top.

she stopped abruptly, her knobby cane planted firmly in the ground. “you two should be ashamed of yourselves,” she declared, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “so young, already with a child? what were you thinking?”

you blinked, caught entirely off guard. “excuse me?”

the woman’s glare intensified, and she jabbed her cane in your direction like an accusatory sword. “girls these days have no shame. couldn’t even keep your legs closed, could you? and you”—her eyes flicked to megumi—“should’ve had more sense than to let her ruin her life.”

you opened your mouth to retaliate, but she steamrolled ahead. “and the child doesn’t even look like you!” she squinted at hana, her gaze scrutinizing. “did she cheat on you? i wouldn’t be surprised. girls like her can’t be trusted.”

the smug satisfaction on her face made your usual sarcastic confidence falter, replaced by an unfamiliar knot of insecurity. hana, picking up on your sudden tension, began to wail, her tiny fists flailing.

you tried to soothe her, your voice shaking slightly. “don’t cry, sweetheart. it’s okay.”

that’s when megumi stepped in. he handed the stroller over to you and turned toward the old woman, his dark eyes narrowing into a glare so sharp it have frozen the sun mid-sky.

“first of all,” he began, his voice calm but seething with disdain, “she’s not our kid. she’s my sensei’s daughter. but even if she was, how exactly is that any of your business? are you the ceo of unsolicited opinions, or do you just hand them out for free on sundays? like do you hand out judgment for a living, or is this just a hobby?”

the woman blinked, clearly not expecting such a reply. “well, i—”

“second,” megumi interrupted, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “thanks for your concern, but i didn’t know we asked for a dna test expert. what’s next? you gonna tell us her astrological sign doesn’t match ours?”

you stared at him, half in awe and half biting back laughter. this was new.

“i’m just saying—” she began, but megumi cut her off again.

"oh, you’re saying plenty, and all of it’s useless. if you’re so worried about other people’s lives, maybe start with figuring out how to mind your own. and for the record, if this was my family, i’d be damn proud of it and if she was ours, she’d grow up surrounded by love, protected from nosy strangers who can’t keep their opinions to themselves. and she’d have the wittiest, sharpest mom in the world to teach her how to shut down busybodies like you. so unless you’re ready to explain why anyone cares about your outdated opinions, i suggest you keep walking."

“also,” he added, his gaze colder than ice, “don’t you dare talk about my girl like that again. she’s smarter, kinder, and more accomplished than you could ever dream of being. she doesn’t need validation from a stranger.” hana, as if sensing megumi’s unwavering confidence, stopped crying and began giggling, her chubby hands reaching out for him. megumi softened instantly, crouching to pick her up. “see?” he said, his voice quieter now as he held her close. “even she thinks you’re full of crap.”

the old woman’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, but no words came out. megumi rolled his eyes at her and then glared at her, with narrowed eyes, "don't you dare mess with my family ever again. if you do, i will personally summon mahoraga and haunt you down to the depths of hell."

the woman huffed, muttered something about “kids these days..." you flashed her a grin. “thanks for the free entertainment, ma’am. you made our day.”

megumi rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirked up. “you’re impossible.” you gaped "as if you are not!" you stared at megumi, your heart doing flips. he turned to you, his expression back to its usual stoic calm. “what?”

“‘mess with my family?’” you repeated, a teasing grin spreading across your face. “didn’t know you had such a dramatic streak, fushiguro.”

he shrugged, looking down at hana, who was now happily chewing on his sleeve. “she pissed me off.”

you laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “you’re such a softie. i bet you’d cry during a pixar movie.”

“shut up.”

“oh, you love me,” you teased, smirking.

he sighed but didn’t deny it, his ears turning slightly pink. “let’s just go.”

with hana’s giggles filling the air and megumi’s rare smile softening his features, the three of you moved on.

A/N: okay i remember reading a similar drabble like this somewhere on tumblr but i remember it being sukuna and yuji instead of megumi and hana. i personally loved it and took inspiration from there so if you find the plot similar then yes, i have taken the writing prompt from that user (i am sorry, i don't really remember the name).

[inkspiredwriting]

Mood Swings and Miracles

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

It started one Monday morning. Five woke up to find Y/N angrily rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, muttering under her breath. He cautiously approached, coffee mug in hand.

“Morning, love. Everything okay?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“No, everything is not okay!” Y/N snapped, slamming a cabinet door shut. “We’re out of peanut butter, and you know I need my peanut butter toast in the morning!”

Five blinked. “I’ll get some from the store. No big deal.”

But Y/N’s mood swings didn’t stop there. Throughout the week, she oscillated between anger, sadness, and inexplicable laughter. Five found himself walking on eggshells, unsure of what would set her off next.

On Tuesday, she burst into tears because Five accidentally stepped on her favorite pen. “It’s just a pen, Y/N. I’ll buy you a new one,” he offered, bewildered.

“It’s not just a pen, Five!” she sobbed. “It’s my lucky writing pen!”

By Thursday, Y/N was furiously cleaning the entire house, mumbling about how “everything is always such a mess.” Five tried to help, but his efforts only seemed to irritate her more.

“Can you not put the books back like that? They have an order!” she snapped, yanking a book from his hands.

Five retreated, utterly confused. “Sorry, didn’t realize there was a system.”

Friday evening, Five decided to confront the situation head-on. Y/N was curled up on the couch, glaring at the TV. He took a deep breath and sat down next to her.

“Y/N, we need to talk. You’ve been really... moody lately. Is everything okay?” he asked gently.

Y/N sighed, her anger melting into exhaustion. “I don’t know, Five. I just feel so... off. One minute I’m angry, the next I’m crying, and then I’m laughing like a maniac.”

Five took her hand, concern etched on his face. “Maybe we should see a doctor. Just to make sure everything’s alright.”

Y/N nodded, looking relieved. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

The next morning, they visited the doctor. Five sat in the waiting room, nervously tapping his foot. After what felt like an eternity, Y/N emerged, looking dazed but with a faint smile on her lips.

“Well?” Five stood up, searching her face for clues.

Y/N took his hands in hers, her eyes sparkling with a mix of emotions. “Five, I’m pregnant.”

Five’s jaw dropped. “Pregnant? You mean we’re having a baby?”

Y/N nodded, tears of joy streaming down her face. “Yes, we’re having a baby.”

Five pulled her into a tight embrace, his mind racing. “That explains the mood swings,” he said, half-laughing, half-crying. “I can’t believe it. We’re going to be parents!”

As they left the doctor’s office, Five’s head was spinning with excitement and fear. He looked at Y/N, who was beaming despite her recent emotional rollercoaster.

“So, any cravings yet?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N chuckled. “Well, I could really go for some peanut butter toast.”

Five laughed, feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over him. “Peanut butter toast it is. And after that, we’ll start planning for our little one.”

Over the next few months, Five did his best to support Y/N through her pregnancy. There were still mood swings, cravings, and moments of sheer panic, but now they faced it all together, with a shared sense of purpose and love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch, Five looked at Y/N, who was happily munching on pickles dipped in ice cream. “You know, I think this is going to be the greatest adventure yet.”

Y/N smiled, reaching for his hand. “I think so too, Five. I think so too.”

And so, amidst the chaos and mood swings, Five and Y/N prepared for their greatest challenge yet: parenthood. With every high and low, they grew closer, ready to welcome their new bundle of joy into their wonderfully unpredictable world.

[koiiiji]

Please anything with Owen Knight if you can.

favourite

tw ; no, just fluff and Owen having new crush

please no spam likes, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!

you weren't exactly sure how you ended up in this situation — pedaling like your life depended on it, wind whipping through your hair as you struggled to keep up with Owen Knight. the Golden Boy, the prodigy rider of his team, and the guy who was somehow charming, confident, and totally oblivious all at once.

“c’mon, you got this! just a little faster!” Owen’s voice rang out ahead of you, his laugh floating back as he turned his head, giving you a wide grin.

“you’re killing me!” you shouted, nearly out of breath. “i swear, i didn’t sign up for Tour de France training!”

Owen slowed down just enough to roll beside you, his striking blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “you did say you wanted to go riding, didn’t you? this is how we roll!”

you shot him a half-hearted glare. “by ‘riding,’ i meant a chill ride around the park. you know, like normal people?”

Owen laughed, his face bright and carefree. “yeah, but i’m not exactly ‘normal people,’ am i?”

you groaned, shaking your head. it was impossible to stay annoyed at him when he was like this — cheerful, fun, and genuinely trying to make you enjoy the ride, even if he was way too fast for your pace.

after a few more minutes of struggling to keep up with him, Owen suddenly skidded to a halt in front of a small convenience store. you stopped beside him, panting like you’d just run a marathon.

“break time!” he announced proudly, hopping off his bike and parking it. “i’m getting ice cream. you in?”

you barely managed to catch your breath as you nodded. “you better be getting me some after that death sprint.”

he winked. “of course. what flavor?”

few minutes later, you were both sitting on a bench outside the store, munching on ice cream cones. cool sweetness was the perfect reward after the unexpected workout. Owen leaned back, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he casually licked his cone, looking way too relaxed for someone who had just cycled with unbelivable speed.

“y’know,” he said, glancing over at you with a smirk, “you did better than i thought. for a rookie.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, playfully nudging his shoulder. “oh, thanks. that’s exactly what i wanted to hear.”

he laughed, bumping you back gently. “i’m serious! you’re getting stronger.”

you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, well, maybe i’ll be able to beat you one day.”

“oh, absolutely,” he replied, his tone suddenly serious. “i’m sure you’ll totally leave me in the dust. i’ll be crying on the side of the road, defeated.”

you burst out laughing at the mental image of Owen, the superstar rider, dramatically sobbing while you zoomed past him on a bike. he grinned at you, clearly proud of making you laugh. “but, until that day, i’ll keep being your personal coach. gotta push you to greatness, right?”

you raised an eyebrow. “oh, is that what this is? personal coaching?”

he gave you a playful wink. “of course. can’t have my favorite riding partner getting too comfortable.”

your heart skipped a beat at the casual mention of being his favorite. Owen had this way of saying things so effortlessly, not realizing the impact it had on you. before you could overthink it, though, he suddenly stood up, stretching his arms above his head.

“alright, coach says break’s over. ready for round two?”

you groaned dramatically, but stood up to follow him. “why do i feel like i’m going to regret this?”

Owen flashed you a dazzling smile, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “because you probably will. but hey, at least you’ve got me, right?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin. “yeah, yeah. let’s go before i change my mind.”

as you both hopped back on your bikes, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe being his ‘favorite’ wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

MASTERLIST

[virescent-v]

Hey, can I request #92 pls. Maybe with a little angst but I’m leaving it to you🩷

hi hi hi, so sorry this took like...two weeks. life, ya know?

it started as something, and im not sure this is the angst you were really looking for (that really isn't my area of expertise i should work on that lmfao) but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Definitely Not Friends

Word Count: 2.7k+

Prompt: “friends don’t do this kind of shit”

Warnings: It's smutty, ya'll, but not my "normal" kind of smut

The repetitive nature of your ongoing…tryst with Emily was getting under your skin. It had all started off so innocently; just some casual flirtation between coworkers. Nothing that Derek and Penelope haven’t been accused of over the years. But before you knew it, you were spending more alone time with Emily than any of your other coworkers. Late night talks on the phone, dinners after long cases to unwind, Friday night movie nights, the list goes on. 

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Just two coworkers who saw some terrible shit every day who got on well enough to lean on one another. 

But then Emily started pushing the envelope. 

A brush across your shoulders as she was passing by. A squeeze of your hand before getting out of the SUV to catch a killer. Eye contact that lasted just a little too long. A lip bite that made your breath catch. 

Innocent enough things that you convinced yourself you were just imagining them. 

But then one night after a gut wrenching case, she kissed you. 

She had driven you home from the airport after getting back from a two week case in Minnesota. It was well after midnight, you could barely keep your eyes open, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to spend the rest of the night crying, eating your feelings in ice cream, or sleeping for the next six days. 

She walked you to your door, nothing out of the usual. You looked at her before going inside to say goodbye, but she engulfed you in the best hug of your life. Her arms around you were strong. Supportive. You could feel your whole body melt into hers. 

You’ve never felt more safe. 

When you pulled back a little to look at her, your eyes caught and you tried to convey everything you couldn’t find the words for. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

And then, she kissed you and she ran. 

You stood stupefied on your porch, watched her get back into the unmarked SUV before speeding off into the night. 

You didn’t talk to her for three days. 

At work, she acted like everything was normal. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to bring it up because you weren’t even sure what it was. Was it just a comfort thing? Did she have feelings for you? You couldn’t tell. Emily was so hard to read on a good day, let alone when your head was all over the place. 

A few days passed and it had seemed like everything went back to normal. You talked every day, had gone to a few meals together, and she came over for a movie night. 

Except this movie night was different, too. 

She was wearing a skimpier set of pajamas. A loose fitting tank top and the shortest pair of shorts you had ever seen. You knew for a fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra because her nipples were visible through the material. You weren’t sure how she hadn’t caught you staring. 

She sat closer to you on the couch than normal, too. Your sides were basically joined from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her warmth radiating from her to you, the nervous excitement making your body heat up even more in return. 

Again, you weren’t sure what was happening, but you were going to roll with it. The unknowing was thrilling in itself. 

Emily fell asleep halfway through whatever romcom you had put on, her head on your shoulder, her hand lazily resting on your thigh. 

You were too nervous to move, your breaths short as not to jostle her. 

You’re pretty sure you could die happy on this couch with Emily’s head resting on you. 

It was almost the end of the movie when Emily shuffled in her sleep, her head moving towards the crook of your neck, her hand traveling dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. You could feel the heat erupt through your body, your stomach starting to twist into knots. You knew you should probably wake her, get her into your guest bed, and go to sleep. But you were enjoying her being this close too much. 

You could feel her breath against the side of your neck, the little puffs of air almost tickling. She grunted in her sleep, her hand tightening around your thigh, her nose nuzzling against you as she let out a sexy little “mmhmm.” 

Your mind immediately went to the gutter and you could only imagine her making that sound as she ground her hips against yours in your bed. 

You pressed your thighs together to stop the zoom of arousal that shot through you. You barely suppressed the moan that wanted to tumble from your lips. 

You finally gained the courage to wake her and get her to the guest room. Sleepy Emily was one of your favorites; she turned almost incoherent and klutzy and it was maybe the cutest thing you’d ever seen. 

As you were pulling the sheets up around her, she all but dragged you into the bed with her. She got you settled under the covers and immediately cuddled into you, making you into the little spoon. Again, you could feel her breath on your neck, her hand lazily drawing patterns on your upper thigh and hip. 

You felt yourself freeze as she sleepily mumbled, “Stop overthinking it. Go to sleep.” 

You woke up the next morning and she was already gone. 

Your life with Emily continued on like this for a month. Little things would happen that would make you question your relationship to her and then she’d act as if nothing happened and that you two were just really good friends. 

It was making your mind spin, giving you a constant headache. 

You were almost fed up with the constant see-sawing, ready to talk to her about what was happening, when you two first fell into bed together. 

Another bad case, a late night out at the bar with everyone, and too many shots of tequila. 

You woke up the following morning with a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and fuzzy memories of the night before. All you could remember was the smell of her signature perfume, the feel of lips on skin, and sore muscles. 

You probably would’ve written it off, thought it was just your overactive imagination if it hadn’t been for the rather large bite mark on the inside of your thigh. 

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, especially since the memories were still alluding you. You probably would’ve tried to write it off as a random hook up if it hadn’t been for the fact that Emily had woken up in bed beside you, an almost matching bite mark against her collarbone. 

This time, it was a little harder to write off what had happened. Especially since you were both naked. 

You could feel your mouth opening and closing like a fish, an almost panicked look in your eyes. 

Emily cleared her throat. “Wanna get breakfast?” 

You were never more appreciative and pissed for her nonchalant attitude. 

“Sure,” you said, a sudden burst of confidence hitting you as you got out of bed to head to the bathroom without worrying about covering up. 

You’re pretty sure you heard Emily gasp as you closed the bathroom door, a little victorious smirk playing at your lips. 

Again, you two never talked about what happened. 

It almost seemed like a game. How many days you two could go before stumbling into one of these moments together. 

You made it thirty-six hours without snuggling on the couch for a movie. 

You made it thirty-seven hours without Emily’s hand finding your thigh. 

You made it eighty-eight hours without her kissing you after a night out. 

You made it one hundred and fourteen hours before she was back in your bed. 

Except this time, you were both sober. 

You had almost gotten yourself killed. Not on purpose, just a run in with one of the many psychopaths you deal with at work. Wrong place, wrong time kind of thing. 

But after he’d been placed in cuffs, Emily had this absolutely feral look in her eyes. Uncaged. Like she was seconds away from combusting. 

She drove you home. Like always. But the entire ride was silent. 

You made it into your apartment, the door barely closed behind you before she exploded. “What the fuck were you thinking?” She shouted. 

It made you take a step back. She’d never raised her voice at you before. Emily was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, her fists clenched at her sides. 

You were sure you looked scared, befuddled, bewildered. You couldn’t even process quick enough to say anything before she continued. 

“You almost got yourself killed! He had you pinned to the fucking floor! There’s bruises along your arms from where he touched you!” At this point, you could see Emily almost vibrating with her anger. But you were fairly certain she wasn’t actually angry. At least you hoped not. 

“I can’t believe you would be so reckless to walk into a building alone! You knew what he was capable of! How sneaky he’s been! But you didn’t care!” Emily started pacing around the floor, her eyes wild, but focused on her hands, her fingers twisting around each other. 

You could feel your own misplaced anger starting to race through your veins. “I knew what I was doing! I had cleared the room! I don’t know how he got the jump on me, but how on earth is that my fucking fault, Emily? We split up, like we do to cover the premises, and I drew the short end of the stick!” You let out a breath. “Why are you blaming me? Blame him!” 

She spun around to face you, her nostrils flaring. “I am! But I’m also blaming you!” 

You rolled your eyes, tossed your hands up,” Why? What did I do? Why are you mad at me and yelling at me?” 

“Because you didn’t wait for me!”  

Your eyes caught Emily’s. Beneath the anger, beneath her guarded shell, you could see the fear in her eyes. The realization that something worse than a couple of bruises could have happened. 

You tried to open your mouth, say something, but before you could, Emily muttered a quick “fuck it” before crossing the room to you, crushing her lips to yours. 

Before you knew it, clothes were scattered along the hallway to your bedroom. 

Emily tossed you back onto the bed, her body quickly making its way between your thighs. You quickly wrapped your legs around her waist, dragging her closer to you, tangling your hands in her hair as you brought her down for another heated kiss. 

Emily broke away from you, trailing her lips down the side of your neck, quickly finding the spot behind your ear that made you moan out loud. She spent a considerable amount of time there, making sure to leave her mark before moving lower down your throat, kissing across your collarbones, and down between the valley between your breasts. 

She wasted no time wrapping her lips around your turgid peak, taking satisfaction in the way it made you fist the sheets below you in your hands. She made sure to give the same attention to the other nipple, her hand making sure to not leave the opposite one alone for long. 

Emily could spend hours giving your breasts the attention they deserved, but she was almost as impatient as you seemed to be, so she kept making her way down your body, finding the sweet spots that made you whimper or sigh, making note of them for later. 

You could feel how wet you were already, but with Emily between your legs, you couldn’t get any friction to help the ache that was building. 

“Em, please,” you whispered, almost embarrassed by how much you needed her. The build up from all of the times she was just a little too close, the lingering touches, and even the thought of the last time you two fell into bed together (even though you unfortunately don’t remember much of it). It was driving you crazy. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you,” she smirked at you before swiping her tongue through your wetness. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your eyes rolling back a little, one of your hands shooting down to her hair to keep her there. 

Emily ate you out as if her life depended on it, as if she could spend the rest of her life between your legs. She took her time to explore every inch of you, figuring out what moves made you whine, which ones made your entire body shudder, and what made you grip her hair harder. 

It didn’t take long for you to climb towards the edge of your orgasm, but before you could fall over, Emily stopped and pulled away from you. 

The gasp, the outrage on your face almost made Emily laugh out loud. “I love being friends with you,” she snickered at you, a taunting glint in her eyes. 

“Friends don’t do this kind of shit,” you scoffed, flabbergasted at Emily’s ability, even with your juices all over her face, to ignore what was happening between you two. 

You could feel Emily pause, her body tight, afraid to move. She didn’t expect you to lash out, and she could tell you weren’t really happy with her, upset with her disregard of everything. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hands finding purchase on your hips, her thumbs rubbing back and forth a little. “I never knew how to…address this,” she shrugged. 

You nearly laughed at how small she looked, unable to make eye contact with you. She didn’t have an issue with having her mouth on your pussy two minutes ago, but now she couldn’t look you in the eye. 

“A conversation would’ve been a good place to start, Em. You made me feel like I was going crazy.” 

Her eyes finally caught yours and you could instantly tell that she really did feel sorry. Feelings just weren’t her thing. Before she could apologize again, you cut her off, “We can talk about it after you finish fucking me, Emily.” 

You watched her demeanor transform to something hungrier, cockier, feral. “Yes ma’am,” she mockingly saluted before connecting her lips to yours again, trying to convey everything that she was feeling. 

Her hand traveled down from your hip, stilling at the apex of your thighs, silently asking for permission. You nodded against her, your lips still connected in a heated kiss. 

She teasingly stroked your warm, wet pussy with her hand, gathering your juices on her fingers. She pulled back from your kiss, watching your expression as she slowly thrusted two fingers inside of you. 

You tried to keep eye contact with her, but after the build up of all of the little moments between you, it felt so good to finally have her inside of you. Emily slowly built up to an almost punishing pace, something fast, and hard, and exactly what you needed. Her fingers curled at just the right angle to hit that spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. 

Emily’s other hand made contact with your straining clit, rubbing tight, little circles to match her thrusts. You could feel yourself rushing towards that edge again, a breath away from letting go. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Let go for me.” 

Your release hit you like a freight train, your back arching off of the bed, your mouth open in a silent scream. You felt your muscles tense, the euphoria washing through you, before letting go and relaxing as Emily fucked you through your orgasm. You tried to catch your shallow breath, a light sheen of sweat across your flushed skin, before looking at Emily, your hands starting to dance across her skin. 

Emily’s own hands caught yours, catching the questioning look in your eyes. She kissed both of your palms before tangling your fingers together. “Later, baby. We should talk first.” 

Those words would usually cause a rush of panic to course through your blood, but something about the way that Emily was looking at you put you at ease. 

You took a deep breath, smiling a little at her, kissing her hands in return. “Yeah, we should.” 

She smiled back. 

And she didn’t run.

[crackedpumpkin]

Hiiii! Hope your having a great day or night :D

So I was wondering if you could write the rottmnt boys with a gn!s/o who does that really dramatic faint. You know the one where they put there hand to their forehead and fall backwards. Its all in good fun ofc their not actually fainting

Ignore if you want this came to me at 2 am lol

Hello lovely anon! This was such a fun request to write, and I hope that you enjoy it!! I adore doing stuff like the dramatic faint lmao, so this might've come from personal indulgence as well :>

|| ᴛʜᴇᴀᴛʀɪᴄꜱ || ʀᴏᴛᴛᴍɴᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“Woah!” You cry out, narrowly avoiding Leo crashing into you on his skateboard. Leo skids to a stop, and you narrow your eyes at him. He rubs the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile.

“My bad,” He chuckles.

“Dude, you could’ve killed me!” You gesture to him, flabbergasted at the audacity. 

“C’mon, I said sorry!” He protests, and you roll your eyes, hiding a smirk when you realize the only way your words would get through to him.

Drama.

“The thing is, I don’t think I feel very well now. I think I’m in – in shock!” You feign a swoon, your right hand over your heart while your left-hand presses against your forehead. You begin to fall backwards, unable to hide your grin, when you hear his skateboard clatter to the ground, landing safely in his arms.

You open your eyes to see concerned blue staring down at you. 

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, the tails of his bandanna ticking your nose. You scrunch your nose, unable to hold back the amused giggle that spills past your lips. His shoulders sag in relief, rolling his eyes playfully when he realizes your theatrics.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Oh, great Galileo!” You swoon in your seat, the back of your hand resting on your forehead as you imitate the scientist’s usual dramatics. It’s all in good fun, and you spot the slight twitch of his lips that suggest the ghost of a smile.

“Please, I’d do so much better than that,” Donnie remarks, fingers tapping away on his controller as his eyes remain trained on the screen. He’s busy trying to beat his high score, a feat he achieved a mere couple of days ago. 

You frown at his lack of attention, slumping back in your seat with a bored groan. You stare at the ceiling, an idea taking shape in your mind. You smile slyly, casually making your way over until you’re beside his screen. 

“Oh, My Science! I suddenly seem to have lost all feeling in my legs!” You cry out sarcastically, pressing the back of your hand against your forehead and falling with your back to the hard floor. Donnie’s alarmed by the sudden interruption, barely able to register what you’ve just done as he automatically tries to catch you.

“Woah!” He yelps, eyes wide as his arms reach out. You land safely in them, giggling at the sudden impact. He groans, your limbs a tangled mess as he tries to sort them out. You glance up, humour dancing in your eyes with a playful yet teasing smirk.

“Looks like that finally got your attention.”

“Here, babe, I got you some of those cookies you like!” Raph enters the room with a bag of treats, wincing when he sees your curled-up state on his bed. “Those cramps still hittin’ hard?”

Your soft groan is all it takes for him to drop everything to get on the bed next to where you’ve buried your head in the pillow. He tenderly wraps his arms around you, helping you sit upright in his lap. 

“Thank you, love.” You murmur, half groggy from having woken up from a nap just before your boyfriend entered the room. You spot the bag on the floor, looking at him curiously. 

“Oh, it’s not much, just some stuff I thought would help you recover.” He picks up the bag, turns it upside down and lets all the sweet treats he’s managed to gather scatter onto the bed carelessly. 

“I also got some ice cream.” 

Your eyes light up at that, your heart warming at the fact that he had bothered to think about you in your pained state. 

“You’re such a gentleman,” You jokingly swoon, almost sliding off his lap as you fall backwards in a dramatic faint. He drops the empty bag, catching you with worried eyes and a gentle hold. 

“Babe, don’t do that!” He chides, shaking his head with a sigh. “Sometimes you’re even worse than Leo when it comes to theatrics.” 

You giggle, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his cheek, watching the green skin slowly turn into a shade of red that matches his mask.

“That’s why you love me, sweetums.”

You stare down at the bowl in front of you, eyeing it hungrily. Michelangelo watches you with eager eyes from the stove, waiting for you to take a bite of the stew. You gingerly pick up your spoon, scooping some of the hot stew and blowing on it to cool it down.

You bite down, eyes widening in surprise. It’s sweet, sour, and spicy. All your favourites in one. However, Mikey takes your raised brows as bad news, practically wilting beside you.

“It’s not good, is it. I knew I should’ve used more chicken….” He mumbles, arms hanging limply at his sides. You shake your head frantically, reaching out and catching hold of his arm before he walks away completely. 

“No love, it’s delicious! I really, really like it!”

“I dunno. Maybe I should just drop out of the competition.”

"Are you kidding me, babe? This is genuinely the best thing I've ever had! Maybe even better than your brownies." You protest, taking another bite and humming in delight, deciding there was no other way to get through to him besides theatrics. 

You swoon, spoon clattering on the counter as you fall backwards off the chair. You hear him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, moving to grab ahold of you before your back meets the hard floor. 

You open your eyes, chuckling when you see Mikey’s relieved expression. The both of you are on the floor, Mikey’s arms wrapped protectively around you. You press a kiss against his jaw as he helps you up, and he perks up a little at the intimate touch.

“Babe, just try it.” You scoop some of the stew onto your spoon, holding it out to him. He hesitates, but your pleading eyes make him cave in with a reluctant sigh. He takes a bite from the spoon, chewing slowly as he hums thoughtfully. “Hey, this is actually pretty good!” He says, surprised by his own cooking. You giggle, nudging his side with a smirk.

“I told you so.”

[possibilistfanfiction]

I loved the little Detail where Ava wears a strap in footy!Au so my prompt is just any AU but Ava wears a strap (you can decide if its smutty or silly lol)

‘just because i struggled to accept my sexuality doesn’t mean i’m not open to…’

you wait for a moment, raising a brow when she doesn’t continue.

‘toys?’ you offer when it’s clear from her deepening blush she’s definitely bluffing.

‘yes,’ she says, trying to act very sure and certain, and truly you are god’s strongest soldier for not laughing at her, which would be both unkind and also detrimental to your mission. and, sure, you’ve died a few times, whatever, and won a holy war a few months ago, but there is, at the moment, no task more important to you than getting bea to finally go to the sex store with you. you’d talked about it in couples counseling for weeks now and you really, genuinely can’t stop thinking about how hot the potential is. whenever bea has been out you’ve taken care of those thoughts yourself, but sometimes you just stare at her hands while she does the most mundane tasks and feel like you’re about to explode.

‘sooooooo, we can go? now? like you said?’

she rolls her eyes but you’re unfazed. yes, ava, we can go.’

‘fuck yeah!’ you gather all of the things you might need — phone, wallet, sunglasses, backup pair of sunglasses, a little crystal someone on the venice boardwalk gave you — into your purse and grab your cane; beatrice neatly tucks her wallet into one back pocket, her phone in the other. her bun is perfect and, while her button up is slouchy and oversized, it is tucked impeccably into her slacks. you’re so, so fond of her you have to kiss her, and you feel her smile back.

she’d made you research which sex stores are queer-friendly, and even, if you were lucky, queer-centric, and you were relieved to find one not too far away. she’s turning red before she even parallel parks a few stores down from it, her neck flushing, and sometimes you forget the shame she’s felt around want. you’ve felt shame; you were intimate with it for a long, long time, a bedfellow you could never move away from, but never for this. 

‘hey,’ you say, as soft as you can while you’re so excited, ‘if you feel overwhelmed, we can totally leave. there’s ice cream, like, right there.’ you point across the street. ‘and you know i’m always happy to have ice cream.’

she takes a deep breath, as brave as always, braver by the day. ‘while i appreciate the sentiment, and trust that you do love ice cream, i — i would like to try this with you, ava.’

she’s so sincere you might cry, but you shake it off and nod. ‘okay. okay! let’s do it. if you feel weird, do you want a safeword.’

‘for a sex store?’

you laugh, shrug. ‘i mean, they support it.’

she smiles, clearly amused, and squeezes your hand, then gets out of the car to open your door, chivalrous as always. ‘i’ll be okay. thank you though.’

‘sure thing. kumquat, though, if you do need one.’

she laughs.

/

‘okay,’ you say, ‘ready?’

you wait for her quiet but confident yes and then walk out of your closet. beatrice had been the picture of casual composure in the sex store while you excitedly looked at everything, and had nodded when you decided on the strap and harness you liked best — with the help of a very cool employee who seemed to find bea’s blush very endearing, understandably so, and was kind and patient answering all of your questions — but now, when you walk out of your bathroom, her eyes widen and she worries her bottom lip in a way that makes you feel absolutely insane. 

‘oh,’ she breathes, lying on her back on your big bed in just a pair of practical black boxers, her hair loose around her on the pillows.

‘yeah?’

you crawl over to her, on top of her, so the strap just barely pushes against her, and you can feel her tremble beneath you, trying to keep all that desire inside. it’s the second most intoxicating thing you’ve ever felt. she touches your hip, then the leather of the harness, then the silicone of the ribbed dildo — a very nice teal, if you do so say yourself — you picked out. ‘i — wow,’ she breathes. 

you smile into her neck, follow it with a kiss. ‘let’s get this show on the road, then.’

‘ava.’

you push up a little so you can see her face; she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear sweetly. ‘sorry. i’m just really excited to fuck you.’

that gets her to take in a shaky breath and pull you down so your bodies are flush. and, like, you’ve been to a lot of different realms, seen a lot of holy shit, but nothing really compares to the expression on beatrice’s face when you, very carefully — after going down on her first, thank you very much, and then making sure to coat the dildo with lube — push into her. she clutches so hard to your shoulder blades you’re a little worried but then she moans, obscenely, by her standards, and breathes out a pained, desperate, ‘keep going.’

it’s, like, the best fucking thing, oh my god, and, afterward, you take the harness off and drop it unceremoniously on the floor next to the bed, then she curls up by your side, rests her head on your chest. you run your hands through her hair, sleepy and soothed, even though it’s definitely not late enough to really sleep. 

‘thank you,’ she says.

it’s sweet and so genuine; you smile to yourself and bend to kiss her forehead. ‘for railing you with a strap? my pleasure.’

you can sense her roll her eyes, even if you can’t see them. ‘for… i don’t know,’ she says, and you just wait patiently for her to gather her thoughts. ‘for helping me enjoy being myself.’

and, oh. ‘of course; it’s my favorite thing in the whole universe,’ you tell her. ‘and if it involves that, count me in, quite literally any time.’

her laugh is bright, happy, unafraid.

[whumpdrivethru]

can I get cyborg whumpee and scientist whumper with a side of psychological torture ? : 3

Hey!! Sorry for the delay, the ice cream machine is still broken, but here it is!

Enjoy!

Cw// dehumanization, “it” as a pronoun, cyborg vivisection, thoughts about death, begging for death, mechanical gore, body horror

The cyborg couldn’t scream. Any of its vocal functions had been turned off before it was strapped to the table. Technically its motor functions could be shut off as well, but that would interfere with its creator’s work.

“If your limbs are sleeping, we can’t find the problem, Whumpee.”

It was a casual Friday evening for a rewiring, according to its creator, the mad scientist who built it almost four years ago.

And “life” had been nothing but agony since.

“Do you want to apologize to me?” The cyborg shook its head, not because it didn’t want to apologize, but because Scientist held a particularly sensitive wire between gloved fingers. A sinking feeling wound through the mass of wires and electronics that was its abdomen. While not entirely human, it still had all the characteristics of one. Including pain receptors. It could still feel pain. “No?”

It had punched Scientist earlier during training and had been taken to the lab as soon as the session concluded. The punch wasn’t meant to be as hard as it was, but a glitch made sure to knock the wind out of the scientist and leave them a nasty bruise. It had only panicked when Scientist grabbed and dragged it into the gym. It raised its arm to push Scientist away and…

“No- no! I want to-“ the wire was tugged, Whumpee letting out a silent shriek. Its eyes widened, threatening to burst from its head as it threw its head back. It wailed and sobbed until it was exhausted, Scientist still holding the dark green wire in their hand. It had considerably more slack now it had been jerked with such force, and Whumpee was left shaking on the verge of passing out.

“Please,” Whumpee begged, blinking tears from its eyes. “Please, I’ll apologize. I’ll apologize!”

“What did I tell you about begging, Whumpee?” Whumpee nodded, swallowing silently. While Scientist wasn’t good at lip-reading, the word ‘please’ was easy enough to understand. No begging in the lab. The lab wasn’t a punishment. The lab was there to help it when it had problems.

There had been two other incidents earlier in the month. Scientist didn’t pay as much attention as they did the third time, probably because the previous two didn’t involve them directly. One of them was with an intern (it was delivering a drink to him when the same malfunction made its hand clamp down on the cup, spraying everybody with hot coffee) and a nurse (she was punched in the face out of fear just as Scientist was).

“Good. Hold still, now.” Whumpee’s vision went white as the wire was cut. Its eyes rolled into the back of its head as it let out, if its vocal functions were on, a glass-shattering cry.

…

It came to as Scientist was reconnecting wires to each other, around the Problem Wire and weaving them together like a wicker basket. Scientist looked up from their work at Whumpee and smiled, sending chills down Whumpee’s spine. A wire was tugged just then, making Whumpee convulse.

“I’m sorry,” Whumpee sobbed as Scientist continued to push and pull wires in different directions. “I’m so sorry! I’m sorry for everything!”

Eventually, Whumpee was given a break. Scientist had finished weaving wires together and had replaced their grease-drenched gloves.

“Do you understand why this is happening, Whumpee?” Whumpee shook its head, the motions small and sharp. Pain clouded its thoughts. It couldn’t put together a word in its head, its brain a plate of scrambled eggs.

“You are an experiment. Experiments are temporary,” Scientist began, pulling a tray from the rolling cart and placing it to the side. “But I didn’t design you to break so soon.” Whumpee screamed as wire after wire was pulled to its maximum length and secured with tight clips on the tray. “This is the third rewiring this month, Whumpee.” Whumpee shook its head as Scientist moved lower down its abdominal cavity. “And the month isn’t half over yet. This isn’t a good look on you.” Whumpee agreed. It wasn’t a good look at all. If Scientist was right about anything, they were right that if it didn’t stop malfunctioning, there would be problems worse than just a rewiring. Whumpee didn’t even want to think about that.

“So tell me, Whumpee. What should I do with you?” Scientist’s gloved hand, already coated in grease again, reached for Whumpee’s vocal controls and the dial was turned back up. It took a shaking breath, choking out a sob.

“I-“ Scientist had their hand around another wire. This one, it felt, wasn’t a problem at all. So why-

An impossibly loud scream echoed around the room as Scientist tugged on it. Itdidn’thaveaproblemwhywasScientistcreatingoneitwasfinethewirewasfineitwasfinewhyweretheyplayingwithitwhywhywhywhywhy

“Answer, Whumpee. What should I do with something broken like you?”

“F-fix-“ it tried to speak between sobs and hiccups, avoiding the piercing gaze of its creator. “Fix m- m-“ another cry as the wire was tugged again. “Fix me!” It didn’t know if Scientist could understand what it said until Scientist shook their head.

“I’m not sure about that. I have many more experiments to tend to and each time I have to fix you, I waste time.” The wire was bent, and Whumpee howled.

“Then- then scrap me!” It resisted the urge to add a ‘please,’ but even if it tried, it could only cry as the wire was bent back to its original position. “I can’t- I-“ Whumpee didn’t want to live. But it didn’t want to die. “I.. I-“ Scientist’s hand was on the vocal control dial and its voice faded away to nothing.

“Oh, Whumpee.” Whumpee sobbed pitifully in silence as Scientist began to work again. “You know I love you too much to scrap you just for a few malfunctions, right?” Whumpee shook its head. “We’ll manage them together, okay?” The pain continued as its creator made some finishing touches to its wiring. There was no more jerking or pulling, though. One type of torture was replaced with another from the strong pinching of those damn clips. It didn’t know what was worse. Scientist said the clips were only temporary, but last time they were used, they stayed for two weeks. It was ‘only to make sure the wires learned to stay in place.’

Bullshit.

“Well, that should do it.” The empty tray was placed back onto the cart and gloves were changed again. Then, Whumpee’s abdomen plate was fitted back on. Whumpee whimpered as each screw was tightened and the suction mechanism activated. Finally, Scientist took a special screwdriver from their pocket and inserted it into Whumpee’s VC panel. There was a click, and the nightly ritual of locking Whumpee’s VC dial in place was complete. “The skin layer should regrow itself within the week. So no sharp movements.” That wasn’t its fault. Whumpee glared up at Scientist, who returned a smile that made its blood boil.

“Now let’s get you back to your room.” Agony persisted as it was pulled from the table and fitted back into its regular restraints. The first rewiring of the month was the hardest. It took twice as long because the synthetic skin had to be cut away before its abdominal plate could be reached. Two rewirings later, and only a thin layer of skin had managed to grow over the plate. Hopefully it wouldn’t need a fourth for a long time.

“Walk,” Scientist ordered. Whumpee took one step and collapsed. After a day lying strapped to a table, its legs weren’t used to the sudden weight of the mechanics in its upper body. “Okay…” it took two lab assistants to haul it up to its feet. “Walk it back to its room. Slowly.” Whumpee took small steps and the lab assistants let it guide them, only because they were struggling to pull it ahead. Finally they reached Whumpee’s cell, marked only with the number 559. The door was opened and Whumpee was gently let down onto the floor. There was a bed, but the assistants’ faces were red as tomatoes. It didn’t want to injure them too. The smaller assistant flashed it a pitying look as he left the room.

“Goodnight, Whumpee,” he quietly called, and the door was shut, leaving it in absolute darkness.

Whumpee dragged itself to the corner of its cell, propping itself up against the walls. A hard surface on either side of its body helped support it as it held its stomach in pain. That did nothing. Pressing on the hard plate, unable to reach the terrible burning inside, was a torture of its own. Whumpee cried, hands and fingers twitching as it squeezed its side. That gave it something to hold onto, but it only made Whumpee more aware of the pain. It could feel the clamps. It could feel where wires had been cut, pulled, tied, and woven together. It could feel it all.

“Please,” it called into the darkness, falling against the corner. Now that it was out of the lab, it was allowed to beg. Even if nobody could hear it. “Please, make it stop.” Nobody knew it was here. After Scientist locked its VC dial in place, it wasn’t speaking until the next morning.

“Please, help me.”

You’ve been served by Quill. Come again soon!! :)

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

TSITP 2x04 - “Love Game” : Quotes

“- So you want to tell me what got you all worked up? Or just be bros and pretend this never happened?” (Steven)

“- He’s grown into quite the asshole.” (Jeremiah)

“- This was her favorite place in the world. (Conrad) - I understand that your family has wonderful memories here, and you will always have them. Memories are like that. (Aunt Julia) (...) - Sounded like an Aunt Julia problem to me.” (Conrad)

“- I know that you came here with the best intentions, but this is, like, their family drama. I just don’t want you to get sucked back into it.” (Taylor)

“- It’s nice to see you. I am sorry about your mom. (The real estate agent) - Well, clearly not sorry enough to pass up the opportunity to sell her house. (Conrad) - I’m just doing my job. (The real estate agent) - Well, consider this an unexpected day off.” (Conrad)

“- I want some ice cream. Nature’s aire conditioning.” (Taylor)

“- My mom was hoping it would be a chance to clear the air about all the shit from the past. You mom wanted it to be picture-perfect Christmas. You know, “nothing ever happened.” It became kind of a tradition. Call it “Shitmas”. (Skye) - I think she just wanted a fresh start. (Conrad) - Sucks our moms never got to work their shit out.” (Skye)

“- It was fun, even. (Belly) - Really? You guys can just, like, have fun together casually now?” (Taylor)

“- You used to cry every time you looked at the Tower of Terror. I’m very excited to see it happen again. (Conrad) - He made it so hard not to love him. When he was sweet like this, I remembered why I did. Used to love him, I mean.” (Belly)

“- You know, competition is the key to making Conrad happy. I mean, I know you both very well. (Belly) - Well, what’s the key to make me happy, Belly? (Jeremiah) - Cheeseburgers. Ariana Grande. (Belly) - Always. (Jeremiah) - And correcting people who say “bru-shetta.” (Belly) - ‘Cause it’s “bru-sketta”. (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - Damn, you’re good, Belly. (Jeremiah) - What can I say?” (Belly)

“- How’s the life of a saleswoman treating you? (Cleveland) - Oh, you know, it’s soul-destroying, deeply taumatic, making me question every decision in my life I’ve made up to this point. Sounds great, you know? Nonstop bliss. (Laurel) - It’s okay for it to be hard for you, too. (Cleveland) - It’s been hard. (Laurel) - Well, you look great. (Cleveland) - Well, looks can be deceiving. (Laurel) - Look, things may have fizzled between us, but you can always talk to me. (Cleveland) - We had so long to prepare for this, and I still have no fucking idea how to process it, let alone talk about it. Belly isn’t handling it well. I don’t know how to help her. (Laurel) - Well, maybe you don’t need to help her. (Cleveland) - You’re clearly not a parent. (Laurel) - Look, something really shitty happened, and you can’t fix it. But you can let her know that you’re feeling it, too. She may just need to know that she’s not alone in her feelings. (Cleveland) - I hear you, but I can’t. I’m her mom. If she sees how big my grief really is, it’ll just scare her. (Laurel) - I had a really bad episode of depression a few years ago. And I felt like I was just sitting at the bottom of a deep hole, looking up at the world going on above me. The friends that helped me the most were not the ones who tried to get me out of the hole. It was the friends who climbed down into the hole, sat with me for a bit that really made things better. I mean, there isn’t a right way to do this, Laurel. (Cleveland) - I didn’t see your name on the author list. (Laurel) - Would it scare you off if I told you I was here for you? (Cleveland) - Depends on where you take me for dinner.” (Laurel)

“- No, we need you on the team because you lost the boardwalk games. I mean, we have a great team, but that doesn’t mean that we’re going to win every game. We need somebody that’s going to, like, lead us, win or lose. (Taylor) - Or tie.” (Skye)

“- Hey, no one said you had to do this alone. I can keep you company if you want me to. Come on. You got this. You’ve done it before. (Jeremiah) - It’s now or never, I guess. (Belly) - Butterfiles.” (Jeremiah) (...) - It’s okay to be scared. (Jeremiah) - ESP tell you that? (Belly) - No, your face did. Hey, don’t worry. I’m right here with you, okay? (Jeremiah) - Jeremiah is always there when I need him. When I was 13, right before the Fourth of July, I caught a horrible summer cold. I hated being sick, but the worst part about it was feeling so left out. (Belly) - It’d be sweet of you to keep her company. (Susannah) - He stayed home with me for the rest of the week.” (Belly)

“- Interesting. (Taylor) - What? (Belly) - Nothing. It’s just interesting.” (Taylor)

“- You guys, you had a pretty tough year. (Cam) - Yeah. I don’t know. It feels, like, weird having some fun. Like, part of me feels guilty. I don’t know if that makes sense. (Belly) - Yeah, I know, I know exactly what you mean. (Cam) - Yeah, I know you know. (Belly) - Today was really important fo you guys. Fun is important. Very important.” (Cam)

“- I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. (Steven) - It felt good to feel like a kid again. And I know that my mom only ever wanted us to be happy. It’s been hard. (Conrad) (...) - It’s just an observation, man. (Steven) Shout out Steven - I appreciate your observation.” (Conrad)

“- How come you didn’t want another Junior Mint? (Conrad) - I’m not 13 years old anymore, Conrad.” (Belly)

[mugunghwc]

Perhaps it was a quote he’d read or heard somewhere, lodged in his subconscious because it resonated so deeply with him. When Han looked at his reflection, he saw a stranger rather than someone he knew. Even his own desires felt unclear, except for those tied to the Jingweon mafia. Unlike him, Futaba had a clear vision of her future— a simple but meaningful dream of a suburban home, a white picket fence, and a nuclear family.

As the tension grew between them, Han also turned away, giving her an escape from the discomfort. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry, whether by his actions or inactions. He gently dismissed her apology with a shake of his head. "You don’t need to apologize. I admire your passion," Han said, offering a tender smile while holding her gaze. "It would be such a waste not to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared." Even though it was a simple dish, he could tell it was made with care, filled with the things she loved and wanted to share with him.

When she went to the kitchen, Han glanced over and noticed the ice cream, arching his brows in mild surprise. It was so unapologetically Futaba, and he found it endearing. "You're going to undo all the time I spent working out today—and probably tomorrow too," he joked with a touch of humour before picking up his burger. "But I appreciate it nonetheless." He appreciated everything she did for him.

Taking a big bite, Han hummed in satisfaction. Leaning back, he nodded in her direction, conveying his approval without speaking with a full mouth. It had been a while since he’d had a burger like this. "I like it. It has that homemade taste," he said after swallowing and taking a sip of wine. Despite the casual atmosphere, part of him felt the need to explain his earlier response. His expression grew more serious, thoughtful even. "One thing I’ve always admired about you is your willingness to take chances. You have initiative and put yourself in situations most people would avoid," he said with genuine fondness, smiling as he looked down at his plate. "The truth is, outside my work, I’m not like that at all. I still don’t know what I want in life other than to succeed," Han admitted. "Who would’ve thought that a grumpy yakuza would make me question that? He seemed happy that day, even if he was a bit out of place. Happy with just one person. I guess I can understand why you want that." But wasn't that what he had with Bo-ra already? His brows mildly furrowed as he couldn't place what was exactly amiss there. "It made me realize… it must be nice. I don't take for granted your feelings."

Futaba let out a snort. "Out of which book did you get this quote? Well it ain't really wrong," she admitted quietly but found it tad too fancy to be from him alone. A smile appeared on her lips, while remembering why else she liked Han so much. He seemed to be only one, who appreciated and loved her the way she was, or liked. She burst out in laughter at his little dramatic ass. "Oh, never ... how dare I," she chuckled.

Something was different this time, usually he was not to stop and always liked to indulge with her but this time, the buns of the bread seemed more important than what she had in store for him. Futaba leaned back, looking rather confused down at him. "I'm no more a cop, Han ... there's nothing to worry," she tried to argue while remembering it had not stopped him before. She turned her head. Was it during dinner a big turn off for him? Did she fuck up again? She looked upwards for a moment, trying not to react to sensitive about his choice of words, which had disregarded her own. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Dinner first, of course..." she chuckled awkwardly, while she got off from him and returned to her seat. "Good we aren't in a restaurant, right?" Trying her way out with humor. "That would have gotten us kicked out for sure, ... also I still got something." Escaping to the kitchen, just to bring back the dessert, which was ice cream on a plate. Simple but tasty, she liked to think. Vanilla and chocolate. "Curious if you will still manage the whole burger," she chuckled.

[lunaevangeline]

to belong

{Kuroo Tetsurou x fem!reader}

Written for Luna @writingbymoonlight ♡

Summary: bawling over your cheater ex is a waste, your childhood friend knows what to do (tw: mention of cheating)

It's been a long time since the last time Kuroo visited your family's house. Summer break is on the way but you were depressed, locking yourself in the bedroom and being silent every meal time. Your worried mom called the last emergency contact she had, Kuroo Tetsurou, your best friend, your childhood friend.

She knows he's the only one who can deal with you inside and outside. The first time your mother opens the door for him, he can notice her tired and worried eyes. An apologetic smile painted on her face, "Sorry I invited you at this time, Tetsu-kun."

Kuroo shakes his head politely, "I'm actually free. It's rather been a pleasure to be invited to your home, Ma'am."

She smiles in relief, gesturing that he can head to your room on the second floor of the house. He nods and glides to a white door with a sign of your name on it, taking his time to gently knock three times on the door leaf. There's no response.

"Y/n, it's me." You can notice him by his familiar voice.

You hum weakly in confirmation and the door opens. Your room in Kuroo's view hasn't really changed. The warm pastel color, with a row of books neatly arranged on your shelf. The simple white curtain hanging on the wall. This is the room where he used to play video games with you, when he used to gush over volleyball things, and show off the new science book he bought.

The difference is the owner of the room is not in her usual state, with gleaming eyes that can hold the sky or smile as bright as the sunflowers. You look so pathetic, snotty nose and stuffy eyes from bawling too much - though he still finds that you're the most beautiful being. Can't believe you're still a crybaby like you used to be. Disheveled hair and wrapped in your favorite blanket, you still sniff without any sign of stopping.

He knows it, he already knows that you cry over a jerk who mistreated you. He already told you he's such a red flag. But you didn't listen, just like he sometimes doesn't listen to your words. It's fair play you thought, rolling your eyes and feeding your ego.

Kuroo thinks you can be irrational sometimes, insufferable. But ironically so is he. How can he fall for you when you've fallen into another man's embrace. He thought you were just his casual childhood friend, who used to tag along with him. Not until you decided to give up on your one-sided love over years. The fact hit him in realization.

He really wants to hold you, but instead, he grabs a tissue to wipe up your tears. There's already a bunch of crumpled ones filling up the small basket bin, an indication that you've been weeping for hours. Your glistening eyes meet his hazel eyes, but he looks away and pats your head. He gently drags your head onto his shoulder, raking his digits through your hair. He doesn't have the heart to see you cry.

You tell everything chronologically with jumbled words as he's all ears. How naive, you believed he was chatting to a casual friend during your date and all his ugly lies. This is the one thing that Kuroo really loves about you, your kind heart. And he's afraid someone will use this side of you. It happened.

You seem immune to any comforting gesture. He has patted you, rubbed your back soothingly, even served your favorite ice cream flavor. Unfortunately, you have no appetite. The poor ice cream has melted into a glass of flavored milk.

"He didn't want me in the first place," you sniffled.

Your feeling for him already washed away once you find out he was cheating on you. But your ego hurt, you started comparing yourself with the other girl and feeling worthless. What does she have that you don't? All the negative thoughts in your head start whispering.

Kuroo doesn't really know how to respond.

"I don’t have perfect words.  I- I’m not the kind of person who knows how to sound poetic and shit," he emphasizes the last word.

"So all I know what to tell you is that I belong to you.  I don’t know if you want me. But I’m yours."

"And at this point however it is you need me, I’m here."

Frustration lingers in every word. Can you hear how desperate he is? He is down bad for you that the last thing he can offer is himself.

Because even if Kuroo Tetsurou had searched all the words in his dictionary to express his longing for you, he couldn't find the right words. Words can't convey how deep the feeling he bears for you. So his words shambled, don't know if claiming himself as yours is the right first thing to say.

Your pupils dilate and the sob begins to calm down. Kuroo clowning himself for you can stop your tears from brimming away.

"How can you say that I don't want you?"

"You were dating this jerk."

"And you've never made a move, always mentioning that I'm like your precious little sister as if you're trying to set a boundary," you pout.

"Sorry I just-" he lost at words.

Blink a few times, you look into his eyes and share a laugh. How silly you were longing for each other all this time.

"Then-"

"would you help me to fall in love again?"

"I will do anything to help," he proclaims.

"Besides, I'm sure you've started to fall for me," a smug grin plastered on his face. You smack his arms, leaving out an 'ouch' from his mouth.

He has taken the crumbs of your heart by now. It shouldn't be difficult because you used to love him and to fall all over again will definitely be an easy task to do.

Because your heart remembers how it was, what it means to long for him.

And you know, you're now in good care.

(masterlist.)

[staryuee]

I see that Your request is open so would you mind If i’m requesting ^_^

Can i request how xiao,chongyun and scaramouche react to their short! s/o Who have the same personality as liliya from honkai impact 3rd

Which is sleepy,quiet,and serious -v-

And can lift a big claymore

You can skip this If you dont want to do it ^_^

s/o who is like liliya — genshin hcs ⸝⸝

— warning[s]. scaramouche the snake N/A!

— synopsis . . .(char.) with the same personality as liliya from honkai impact <3

— characters . . . xiao , chongyun , scaramouche

— notes . . . PLS I LOVE LILIYA <33 that’s so sadly the epitome of me tho , , short , sleepy and serious ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

our short king

— you’re the only person he won’t growl at <3

— but seriously , he loves you and how your personality contrasts those of casual liyue citizens , he’s certainly mesmerised although his pride won’t let him admit that fact :<

— you being so sleepy all the time is definitely a bonus for him , it means he doesn’t have to worry about you doing something stupid and possibly risking your life (he also just loves how peaceful you look when you sleep ehem)

— people absolutely fear you too , i mean you both look hyper-mean (which isn’t the case at all) and the energy you two radiate when you simply walk makes children want to cry

— you’re still very cute to him tho <3 he won’t ever admit this but once when you fell asleep on his lap by accident he started pinching your cheeks :) don’t tell him you were awake the entire time because he WILL ignore you for an entire week

— back to the whole people fearing you both thing - that gets multiplied when you’re either on commissions or getting rid of some hilichurls

— at first xiao refused to allow you to go with him on his daily rituals of ‘conquering evil’ not because he assumes you’re weak , it’s the opposite rather, he just worries that something will go wrong because of his karmic debt :((

— however when he saw how you wield your claymore he stared at you in awe <3 tbh he did sit there for a bit at wangshuu inn wondering how someone who could be the definition of the sin: sloth - could carry something so heavy ?? he would ask you but he’s afraid you’ll take it the wrong way lol

— after that he was much more keen on taking you out and joining you for commissions - he adores the switch you have from someone so quiet and sleepy all the time to a person so serious and strong

— hopes you fall asleep on him again btw <333

— you WILL be the death of this poor boy </3

— he adores you so much , though at first when he met you he thought you didn’t like him at all because you didn’t say much and your only genuine responses were “mn” or “mhm”

— you let him know that you just prefer to be quiet and he got so relieved :’)

— don’t tell xingqiu but he really prefers your personality over something loud and bold - mostly because you don’t try and tease him for his positive yang energy by feeding him jueyun chilis but that’s a story for another day !!

— when i said you might be the death of him , i meant it literally and metaphorically too because the amount of times you’ve fallen asleep on him has made him overheat so many times and the outcome always varies from something very embarrassing to him feeling like the personification of natlan

— chongyun still finds it really sweet tho <3 he enjoys having you close to him because he feels as though he can protect you :>

— judging by your abilities with a claymore however it seems as though you don’t need his help :’) but he still won’t back down from helping you even if you’re skilled !

— you two bond over the use of a claymore and eventually when he restocks on ice cream and ice lollies (THERE IS A DIFFERENCE >:( ) he will suggest you two train and teach one another some different tactics !

— kind of gets offended when you’re even more quiet than usual whilst he’s speaking of some ghosts he’s trying to catch - just tell him you were admiring him and he will melt <3

(you’re part of the fatui in this one bc hey i think it’s cool asf)

— two quiet short people in a relationship ? the abyss order has a challenger for the most feared ig-

— BUT SERIOUSLY- this can go one of two ways; he bullies you for being like an inch or centimetre shorter than him , or you bully him because you’re taller than him

— take that advantage if you can because he won’t ever hurt you <3 he will probably stomp off for like a week or two but he’d get sick of childe quickly and run back to you LMFAO

— let’s be real here , the first time he met you he didn’t trust how quiet you were he just thought you were constantly scheming something or chatting negatively about the people around you your mysterious personality certainly didn’t sit well with him

— that’s until you deadass went up to him and said “the only thing i want to scheme is a date with you” , he didn’t question how you knew what he said but that’s irrelevant as he was literally so confused and flustered after that it was rather amusing

— he will never let you sleep i’m so sorry but he will genuinely chew your ear off with his constant mom-like complaints of you being so tired all the time and how sleeping constantly isn’t going to help you fix it - shut him up w a kiss or mention the fact you’re taller than him and you can get a nice approximately 5 minute nap in !

— don’t let his mutt personality fool you he constantly daydreams about you , especially about those times you’re out on the tsaritsa’s orders to end a few lives and your entire personality just switches for a moment

— very much finds you and your talented skills with a claymore extremely attractive but he would rather call childe ‘brother’ than ever admit that (ok maybe that’s a bit hyperbolic but still)

— loves seeing you at the end of the day because those are the only times he will allow you to sleep , and seeing you sleeping so peacefully is so precious to him <3

IHEARTGANYU do not copy, steal or repost <33

[spilledkauffie]

Bucky x Pregnant Reader

Just some funny & fluffy HCs (they’re kind of long, sorry!!)

*xFemale!Reader || Part 2 !

He’s super cautious about everything, if you want soup for dinner he makes sure it’s not too hot, if you want ice cream he lets it thaw just a little so it’s not too cold. When you asked him why he was sticking a thermometer in your coffee he simple said, “too much heat isn’t good for the baby, it could burn it,” as he stared at the meter, “uh-huh, and you do know we’re not in the 1940s anymore, right? We have a much better understanding of mom-baby connections,” you tilted your head, “Look I’m just being cautious, for you, okay?” It’s old fashioned, but it’s sweet.

He nearly has a heart attack when he sees you on a ladder, a step, the counter, or anything with heights. He will literally man handle you, grabbing you carefully by the waist or under your arms (yes, like a child in trouble) to bring you down from where you were, even if it isn’t actually that high. “It wasn’t even that high, babe,” you sigh, waiting for him to get your chips off the top of the fridge, “it’s not like I was climbing Mount Everest.” / “Close enough,” he shake his head at you with a sassy tone, still distraught over you just heaving yourself up onto the countertop.

Sam is always over! Though he doesn’t have kids, he has nephews he’s close with and thus has had some experience with babies and children. Often Bucky just rolls his eyes when Sam’s giving advice, but Sam comes back with “Oh, I’m sorry, who should she believe, a 106 year old who took vintage sex ed in 1900, or someone who was at the hospital with his sister, like eight years ago?” you had to laugh at the comment, but Bucky just ducked his head, “it was 1939…” / Sam is actually a big help for you, he said he’d try to get his sister up to visit with you and talk baby stuff next time the boys are on a mission so you’re not alone.

Sleeping, Bucky’s made it a habit of always going to sleep with his hand somewhere on your stomach, it’s mainly a protective thing, since before the baby he just had to have an arm around you, holding you. But now it has to be skin on skin contact, which means you’ll feel him slowly and softly slip his hand under your shirt when he comes to bed later than you. You’ve come to love it, often placing your hand on top of his.

↳ “lazy days” have become much more of a thing as you entered your third trimester, some days you just don’t want to get out of bed, and Bucky is completely fine with that, he’ll cook, he’ll bring you whatever you want, he’ll lie in bed with you.

You’ve gotten really concerned about the pregnancy and being a mom on a few occasions. Usually this results in some bouts of depression. In times like those, Bucky makes sure he is there physically and mentally for you. If you don’t want to talk about you, he lets you snuggle up as close and as tightly to him as you want. He understand silent suffering and how much just a physical person being there means. When you do want to talk about it, he’s always there and ready to listen.

One minor wince or groan or mumble from you and he’s on it with the “what’s wrong?” / “what is it?” / “how can I help? Is the baby coming?!” He’s mildly paranoid that he’s going to miss something vital or important if he isn’t 100% paying attention to every detail. This is why no you’ve never teased him about anything regarding the baby, because he’s so concerned and invested that it might just give him a heart attack… He is 106.

He was beyond panicked when you called him over, desperately reaching a hand out for him as he sat down next to you. Taking his hand, you press it to your side, and tell him to wait. Super confused if this is a good or bad moment he waits with an anxious look until- “did you feel that?” you smiled up at him; his jaw drops and spreads into a smile as he shifts closer to you in awe silence you both feel another kick, “wh- how did you do that?” he asks, stroking his free hand through your hair, as he bites the corner of his lip. Finding it precious you’re nearly crying from the happiness when he kisses your forehead.

He’s that guy that gets a book on “pregnancy for dummies,” so he can attempt to better understand what you’re going through that he can’t necessarily see. Needless to say part of the book horrified him, “oh my g- do you know what’s happening inside you?!” You just shake your head finding 10/10 entertainment in just watching his face whilst he reads it. The actual “how birth happens” chapter might’ve been one of the best.

He’s actually a little scared, or worried, about touching your baby bump (with a certain hand). You’ve told him you don’t mind that it’s cold, but he’s still avoidant. When asking him why, he didn’t want to say because he thought you might laugh, promising you wouldn’t he confessed, “what if the vibranium… magnetises the baby?” You managed to keep a straight face for approximately two seconds before breaking into laughter.

Your random (and very intense) moods are the biggest handful for him. He’s trying his very best to know what to do, but he never wants to make you feel like it’s not normal to feel a certain way.

↳ The Crying: one time he was telling you about this past mission he was on. It was like casual conversation for him to talk to you about it, but when he got to the part of “so they had these big dogs-” he looked over at you to find you in absolute tears, he stopped in his tracks, biting in his bottom lip as you stared at him, “and? then what?” you asked, voice breaking, he shook his head slowly, keeping eye contact, attempting to think of something, “then-” / “then you became best friends with the dogs and they were on your side in the fight?” he nodded dramatically to you response “yes, that’s exactly what- what happened… yep, nothing more to that story.” 

↳ constant State of Annoyed: at times you’re just purely annoyed for no reason, typically more passive aggressively, but sometimes you’re just straight up honest about it. When he tells you good morning and reminds you how beautiful and glowing you are, you’ve said “I love you, but your voice sounds like a duck today,” or “I am not glowing, be honest, I look and feel like a blimp.” He still tries his best to compliment you, other times he just hides for the day. Until you become super needy at night.

↳ MamaBear Instinct already kicking in: you’ve become extra protective / defensive. One time you were at the store, around one A.M. (because cravings!) and you were picking out cereals together. Bucky was surprised to see some brands he knew still around: “wow, Chex?” he picked up a box, “I didn’t know they were still making these-“ he trialed off about the cereal, but you noticed some kids snickering a few feet down the aisle. “Then again, the last time I had these they tasted like cardboard,” Bucky winced, “probably cause they were made out of it back then-“ / the kids laughed again, despite the soft Hello Kitty pj pants you had on, you were far from soft. “HEY!” You called out, “are you laughing at him?!” Bucky turned to see who you were talking to, but before he had time to address them himself, he was reaching to stop you from lunging over the cart at them, “I will fucking fight you if you are!” / “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Bucky completely stepped to block you, lifting his hands to meet yours gently, but you just tried to push them out of the way still flustered.