#Sans closing his good eye every once in a while and keeping his blind eye open - obviously he does so in-game as well so it's a style-match

[sysig]

Blind side (Patreon)

[written-in-flowers]

The Costume: Demon!San x Demon!Wooyoung

Pairing: Incubs!San x Incubus!Wooyoung/ Side pairing(s): Wooyoung x OFC, demonline x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, slight angst

Word Count: 6K

Summary: Wooyoung is swamped with costume orders for the big ball, and one of his favorite clients arrives to try on his costume. When he confronts Wooyoung about a secret kink, he can't help but partake in a bit of relaxation.

Tags: cuckolding fantasy, cheating fantasy, cheating roleplay, bisexual!wooyoung, bisexual!san, anal sex, anal fingering, oral sex, 69-position, multiple positions, handjobs, blowjobs, frottage, dom/sub undertones, semi-public, casual sex, mentions of bad childhood, mirror sex, deep throat, rough oral sex, sloppy oral, belly bulging.

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

Satin? No, too plain. 

Silk? No, too common. 

Perhaps a nice lace and velvet combo? Suede rather than velvet? Leather works too. Nobody could resist a good leather outfit. If not leather, a latex bodysuit is versatile. The Passionate Heart Ball is a time for everyone to show their best side. Wooyoung knew his designs needed to amaze and impress the masses in order for anyone to care. It made him resent them more. 

“Master?”

Peacocks. That’s what most of the demons who come into his shop are, a bunch of peacocks. They prance around in their lavish clothing, flaunting their wealth and privilege to the lower classes. Wooyoung used to envy them. He’d stand on the street corners, the commotion of the common streets going past him, and see them pass by. He saw the garish displays of wealth and wished he could have them too. Little Wooyoung dreamed of having enough food to eat and drink, wearing clothes without holes and living in houses with more than one room. He thought with a bit of success, he’d get into the club, but when he did finally reach it, the club kept their doors closed. Wooyoung realized that even if he wore the clothes and jewels, he would always be “common born”. They might like wearing his clothes, but they still looked down their noses. His parentage did not matter. 

“Master…”

Even if his mother was distantly related to the king, they'd still lived in the slums of the inner city. Wooyoung carried memories of his father pushing him into the street blindfolded to beg for money. He claimed people pitied blind, homeless children more than they did a grown man. He’d stand by street corners, in his rags and bare feet, with his wooden cup and occasionally smack around a long stick. People pitied the blind demon child who walked about with his stick and cup every morning, afternoon and night. Nobody questioned it either. Not once did somebody bother pulling off the strip of cloth covering his eyes. Wooyoung made a decent bit of coin, but whatever he made went to his parents.

‘Please, take compassion on a poor orphan, descended from King Lucifer himself!’

“Master-”

“-What, Kyra?”

Wooyoung looked up from his sketch pad to see Kyra on his bed. On all fours, the green-skinned demon wore nothing except her diamond collar. The demon behind her, lean and handsome, kept a good grip on her hips as he kept steadily pushing forwards. He took in the scene of them on his bed of red velvet and satin. Such a sight usually pleased him, but not tonight. His shoulders felt heavy, and he couldn’t concentrate on any one thing.

“Would you like me to try a different position?” she asked, seeing his discontentment. “Or perhaps you’d like to do me now?”

“No,” he said, going back to his sketches, “Keep going as you were.”

Kyra’s high grunts and his partner’s low groans became background noise. Wooyoung drew out the long, evening gown one of his clients requested. She told him she wanted something glamorous, alluding to the old starlets of the 1920’s and 30’s. Such a gown would cost more than his family’s old house alone. No doubt she could house ten families and still have room for her decadent fine china collection and four hellcats. Wooyoung, while liking some of his clients, could not stand most of them. As he grew, he’d learned to enjoy tricking, lying, and stealing from these upper-class demons. He still did it from time to time, especially with people like Lady Akura, the she-demon who claimed to bed pharaohs. Wooyoung had the obsidian, gold and aquamarine cat sculpture he’d taken the last time he visited. It astounded him. He could take and take and take from these people, and they didn’t notice.

“Master, please come here. He doesn’t feel as good as you,” she pleaded. “Nobody fucks me like you do.”

“No, they don’t.”

Fashion did not come into his life until much later. He’d taken up working for the gang leader, Lady Madeline, whom everyone called ‘Mad Maddie’ on a count of her violent outbursts. She kept an exclusive group of demon children and adolescents who ran errands in exchange for food and board. Wooyoung recalled Maddie’s main business: her boutique. ‘Opulence’ catered to every style and class in Hell. Wooyoung remembered walking into her workroom after a day in the city and seeing bolts of fine fabrics, designs on her worktable, and the different custom outfits she’d made to order. He’d always find her at her sewing machine or worktable, fashioning up a new dress or shirt for a rich demon somewhere. Wooyoung found her work awe-inspiring. Maddie did things with fabric that he didn’t think possible. A boy from the slums whose worn clothes hung on by threads, even the plainest shirt seemed expensive to him. But, Maddie’s designs stood out amongst the rest. They had style and class. They popped with colors and glittered with gems. She dressed everyone and anyone. She’d made him a few nice shirts and pants when he started working in her shop.

‘A handsome boy like you should look smart, not ragged.’

His slave’s orgasm brought him back out of his head. Wooyoung glanced up from his sketchpad to see her fervently pushing into her partner. Her almond-shaped eyes squeezed tight, full lips parted in every moan, and delicate hands balled into fists in his sheets, she made a beautiful sight. He watched her cum hard around the cock inside her, forcing herself still as the whore he’d bought rode it out for her. The man withdrew when she finished, stroking himself to completion over her round, perky ass. Wooyoung saw streaks of white fall on her lime-green skin, licking his lips when he saw the thick streams trail down to her thighs.

“You may go now, Royle,” said Wooyoung, “Your money’s on the dresser.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the demon, immediately getting off the bed and bowing to him.

Teenage Wooyoung would be stunned to see people bowing before him. This world, this new life he lived, was only a pipe dream to his younger self. The luxury of having his own pleasure slave would sound unbelievable. When Royle left, Kyra remained on the bed. He went back to his design, deciding Lady Crane would appreciate an arachnid approach. From the waist line, he began drawing spider legs.

“Did I not please you, Master?”

“You did well, Kyra.”

“You hardly watched.”

“I heard.”

“You’re barely hard.”

She was right. He found pretending to like someone stroking his ego annoying. Demons of pride typically enjoyed their lovers extolling their beauty and expecting them to be dominant. While Wooyoung didn’t mind being in charge, he grew the hardest when his lovers faked being unfaithful. Kyra was the only other person who knew what he truly enjoyed, and indulged whenever he liked. Wooyoung had asked the proprietor of Scarlet Silk to bring him one of his regulars, but instead he sent Royle. He did not want to risk Royle learning about his kink and whispering it to others.

“It’s one of our busiest seasons,” he said, reaching for an excuse. “Lady Crane says she needs her gown the day after tomorrow.”

“You’ve worked all day,” she said, and he heard the pout in her voice. “You should relax or otherwise you’ll end up burnt out by the end.”

“If I’m burnt out it means we’ve done well.”

As he finished the last leg, he heard feet walk across the soft carpet. She gently took the pad from him, and sat in his lap. The scent of sex and sweat came off her skin, which usually aroused him but not tonight. Kyra cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. Wooyoung did not object to her pulling him from his sweatpants and stroking him. Once it grew harder, she pushed him inside her. Wooyoung let out a low groan at the snug walls encompassing his length. Kyra’s body pulsated around him, already wet from her recent orgasm but slowly yearning for a second one. Wooyoung found the closeness relaxing, rather than tense. Her plump, warm body pressed against his skinny, hard one, arms sliding around his neck. He bit his inner lip when she put his hands on her breasts, the supple mounds filling his hands. 

“What do you think of it?” he asked her, nodding to the drawing on the end table.

“It’s beautiful, Master,” she said, looking over to examine it as she let go of his hands.“She’ll love it.”

"I hope so. Lady Crane isn’t as picky as Lady Akura, but I don’t like disappointing. The Passionate Heart Ball is the biggest event of the social season. I want my clients looking their best.” Her walls clenched him tightly, but she stayed firmly planted in his lap. “It’s good for business.”

“Is that really so important?” she asked, hands on his shoulders.

“Yes, it is. If people see how unique and beautiful my designs are, they’ll want to visit the shop and get their own. I need the trendiest, most popular people in the city wearing my clothes, and Lady Crane will wear them splendidly.”

“So will Lady YN.”

Wooyoung grinned at the thought of you. One of his best and most popular clients, the newest Lady of Eden inspired people to ask for 80’s styles. He believed you didn’t understand how important and popular you are in Hell. People loved talking to you. They loved watching everything you did. When you began embracing your floral-side, he had clients ordering floral patterns or jewelry to impress you. Perhaps they hoped you’d get them in with your boyfriends, giving them a boost in reputation. 

“Our lovely lady and her boyfriends came up with a pretty good group costume.”

“Oh?”

“Different barbies.”

Kyra snorted, “I’m sorry? Aren’t they men?”

“You think that stops them?” he laughed at her scoff. “She wants to be Disco Barbie, while San is Surfer Ken, Seonghwa is Cowboy Ken, and Hongjoong is Peaches and Cream Barbie.”

“Peaches and Cream Barbie?”

“It’s just an excuse for him to wear a big puffy dress. It’s pretty creative. I liked her designs.” 

As Kyra began gradually riding him, he pictured the four nobles in their massive keep. Modeled similarly to the Palace of Versailles in Paris, Asmodeus’s three sons lived in the lap of luxury, yet stayed apart from the rest of the elite. When they initially met, he thought the highest of the high borns considered themselves above the entire world. However, they proved him wrong immediately. Wooyoung thought of Hongjoong laughing at two noblewomen who wrinkled their noses at his sloppy drunkenness; San had rolled his eyes and told them to loosen their corsets before they suffocated on their own self-importance. Seonghwa, he recalled, remarked how they had no reason to lift their noses; he said their husbands were far worse when they indulged too much. Wooyoung realized then that he liked them. 

He also did like seeing them undress during their fittings. 

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she said into his ear, sliding her arms around his neck. “Royle fucked me ten times better than you ever could.”

The words broke him into a shudder. “Did he?”

“He made me cum so hard, and fucked me so good,” she continued, sliding up and down on his length. “All you do is pump a few times and then roll over. It’s pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hands on her hips. “I thought you liked it.”

“You thought wrong, didn’t you?”

Despite this, Wooyoung bucked his hips into her faster. He’d let you see this side of him in his work room because he knew you’d understand. Living with a demon like Hongjoong, you must have been exposed to all kinds of kinks. While it had begun by accident, he didn’t feel embarrassed by it.

Not with you.

****

“Wooyoung, this is gorgeous! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Lady Crane stood in front of the long mirror on top of a small platform. As he fixed the last spider leg, the willowy woman adjusted the high lace collar and looked pleased. Pride blossomed in his chest at her compliment. A compliment felt good regardless of who it came from. 

“It’ll go great with the mask!” she said, nodding over to the mannequin head wearing a black venetian mask. All around the edges near the eyes, the maker painted black ones meant to be glimmering spider eyes. “I love, love, love it!” she beamed down at him when he stood up, clapping along with the two servants accompanying her. “Well done, Wooyoung. Once again, you’ve proved to be a master of your craft!”

“I’m glad you think so, my lady,” he bowed his head. 

She had her servants remove the dress, while one of his assistants began packing it up for her. Wooyoung listened to her rave about the costume, and how it’ll be the best one at the ball. While he agreed about the craftsmanship, he knew it’d be far from the best. Examining his work from afar, he felt he could’ve done better with it. The legs, while made of fine materials and detailed, looked stiff and jutted outwards too much. Had it been a client he cared about keeping, he’d suggest keeping it in the shop to avoid damage then work on it quietly. If she said anything, he’d tell her seeing her in the gown inspired him to elevate the look. The elite loved being complimented and told how inspirational they are. He knew because he loved it too.

When Lady Crane left to the front counter, Wooyoung turned to the peacock costume on a mannequin. Lord Byron, as old and decrepit as he is, insisted on being a glamorous peacock. Wooyoung hoped he never looked that way when he aged. Demons aged incredibly slowly, living for thousands of years before falling into a “youthful sleep”. A youthful sleep happened to be the natural state of hibernation for demons. He never witnessed it, but when their body finally gave out, the elderly demon was put into a coffin and left to regenerate back to their youthful selves. Wooyoung knew he’d age one day, but he might just go to sleep early if he became liver-spotted and wrinkled. Fixing gold and blue gems onto the shoulders, he heard his beaded curtain clack open.

“Good Brother in Fire,” he heard San’s voice say in disgust, “What is that monstrosity?”

“Lord Byron requested it,” Wooyoung said, sewing a lightning bolt pin to the shoulder. “His wife is a flamingo. It’s equally ridiculous.” 

“I thought you designed the costumes?”

“They had a specific vision they demanded I carry out.”

“Considering he’s on his way to his sleep, I’m not surprised.” He could feel the demon lord walking behind him, looking at the feathery pink costume next to him. A soft laugh escaped San as he touched one of the feathers on the collar “They’re definitely going to be talked about.”

“Are your brothers with you?”

“They’ll be along soon,” he said. “Seonghwa is with YN on a coffee date and Hongjoong is still in the lower circles. I came ahead during a lunch break.”

Wooyoung turned to see him wearing a tan suit with a red tie. The rose and serpent tie pin declared his house right away. When he was younger, Wooyoung wanted to wear the crowned lion of Lucifer, but his mother disagreed. She said only the nobles could wear them, not the common born children. When he grew up, Wooyoung decided to flash it anyway in his subtle ways. Wearing his sigil put him amongst the elite. Today, he wore it from his ear in a dangling earring. 

“I’d hoped to browse the jewelry section when I came in,” said San, “But the place was so packed I didn’t bother. I miss the days when I could walk in here and browse at my leisure.”

“You still can. There will only be a few dozen people in the way.”

“You need to move into a new spot,” he said. “This shop is too small for your clientele.”

“I like my shop, thanks. Maddie gave it to me.”

“Mad Maddie, you mean.”

“If she were here, she’d take out your eye with a sewing needle.”

“She could try,” he sneered. “Where is she anyways? Wouldn’t she be awake by now?”

“She retired,” he said, “And went to live with her kids by the river. She gave me the shop before she went to sleep and told me to keep it.”

“And look at what you’ve done with it.” 

He finished putting on the last gem, then looked over at San. Golden with broad muscular shoulders and short black hair, Lord San is a dreamboat. Wooyoung saw crowds of admirers fawn over him at the arena showings. They cheered and chanted his name, fueling his adrenaline and ego. Him dressing as a Ken doll made more sense than a Barbie. A physique like his shouldn’t be hidden from the world. 

“Do you want to wait for your brothers to start the alterations or go on ahead of them?” Wooyoung asked, already retrieving the three hanger bags from the rack.

“We can start,” San said, loosening his tie. “Hongjoong might be a while and Seonghwa and YN get caught up whenever they’re together.”

He hung up the three bags on a separate rack, and drew out San’s first. “Why Barbie dolls? I thought you’d want to be a mythological god or something otherworldly like that.” 

“It’s unexpected,” he shrugged, removing his jacket. “Nobody’s asked for something modern or creative like that around here. Plus, YN really wants to be a Disco Barbie. She says the rough draft you showed her was fabulous, and she’s super excited. You likely have dozens of other guys asking for deity costumes. ” 

“You have no idea,” he grinned. He did his best not to notice San unbuttoning his shirt. The last thing he needed keeping him behind on work was a hot demon body. “I have six Zeus, four Hades, three Poseidon, three Apollo, a bunch of Aphrodites, Heras, Persephones, and all the rest. It’s tedious, but I try making them different from one another. It’s why I find YN’s work so refreshing. She never wants to be like anyone else. While other women are going to be wearing the usual Greek and Roman costumes, she’ll have an outfit entirely her own.” 

“She loves clothes,” he said. “I don't know why she bothered with a business career. She would’ve made an excellent fashion designer.”

“You don’t get rich quick through clothes.” 

Wooyoung removed the costume he’d designed for San. Surfer Ken only came with a pair of swim trunks, a puka shell necklace, sunglasses and a string bracelet. It was by far the easiest costume he’d made so far. Wooyoung turned around and San stood in nothing but his boxers. A lump formed in his throat at the vision of this god-like demon standing half-naked in his workroom. It reminded him briefly of you when you’d last visited. He found himself staring up and down the man’s broad body without 

“Um, I have your costume here,” he said, forcing himself to look at San’s face.

San walked over and stood close to Wooyoung. “Nice,” he nodded his approval, seeing the palm tree silhouette painted on the bottom and rising up into the thighs of the orange and yellow trunks. “Very nice. It shows a little, but not too much.”

“I thought you might like that. You work on that body all the time; you should show it off as much as you can, right?”

Wooyoung’s insides fluttered when San laughed. “I do all the time,” he smiled.

He pulled on the shorts, and Wooyoung took in his defined muscles and smooth skin. He briefly thought of you and San entangled in his bed like Kyra and Royle. You’d tell him over and over that San was the better lover. You’d make sure he could see it from every angle, showing him how San’s cock split you open in every thrust. Wooyoung might die from that.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That you and YN did it in here.”

“Yes, we did.”

“How was she?” he asked, fixing the pants around his hips. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it. She’s…different.”

“She said you’re a cuck,” San glanced over at him when he sensed his silence. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody. I think it’s interesting that a demon of pride likes to be degraded. They usually like being in charge and doing the degrading.”

“Um, well…I don’t really know how to explain it,” he said. “I guess I can blame my upbringing for it, but it’s something I’ve always liked.”

San looked him up and down, then turned from the mirror. “Is it just girls or does it apply to guys too?”

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“I mean, can I be your cheating boyfriend or do I have to be the other man for it to work?”

Wooyoung thought about it, unsure how to answer the question. He’d never switched up his fantasy before, exchanging the girlfriend in favor or a boyfriend. “If there’s another guy in the room,” he shrugged. “It feels wrong if you’re my boyfriend and you’re cheating on me with a girl.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind being The Other Guy,” he smirked. He reached for the diamond crown hanging from Wooyoung’s ear, the light brush of his knuckle making Wooyoung gulp. “As long as I got a chance to show you how good I fucked your girlfriend afterwards, I’m more than fine with it.”

“My lord…”

“What? You weren’t so shy with YN. Why am I different?”

“Guys are always different for me,” he admitted sheepishly. “Girls are easy to talk to because I already know what they like, but guys just…I suppose they intimidate me.”

“How so? I think it’d be the opposite since you know what guys like and not what girls like.”

Wooyoung looked over San’s face again. He took in his small eyes and mouth, with his tall nose and sharp jawline. A face carved by gods, certainly. How can he be smooth and cool in front of a face like that? All the blood in his body pumped straight to his groin when San moved in closer. His warmth slowly crept onto Wooyoung’s, building up the heat between them. Eyes heavy with lust, San lifted Wooyoung’s chin when he’d turned away and spoke softly.

“How am I intimidating, Wooyoung?” he asked, a firmness behind the gentleness.

“You’re, you know, hot.”

“So is YN.”

“Yes, but that’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s…”

“You’re more attracted to me,” he finished, moving Wooyoung back into his work table. “That’s why.”

“I-I like girls too.”

“I know, and that’s fine, but you find men harder to flirt with because you like them more,” he said. “This cuck fantasy of yours might even be partly because you’re jealous that I’m fucking her and not you.” 

“Did you come ahead of your brothers just for this?” Wooyoung giggled, unable to keep the heat from filling his cheeks. 

“Maybe,” he smirked. “Maybe I wanted to see how good you fucked my girlfriend.”

“Or you can…” Wooyoung hesitated, trying to hide his growing hardon, “You can show me how you fuck her?” He took it a tentative step further, “I want to see why she keeps going to you when she has me.”

San slipped his hands over his narrow hips, giving a gentle squeeze before bringing him in for a kiss. Wooyoung slumped against the table as the kiss weakened him, easily opening himself up. San’s hands slipped up his sides and around his back, securing him close as their kiss deepened. Wooyoung held onto his bicep, and nearly moaned when it flexed in his hand. With only his trunks on, Wooyoung slid his hands down San’s hard chest and abdomen. His cock throbbed when San’s tongue slipped into his mouth, slowly rolling around it. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He never imagined someone like San would want anything with him. He had the occasional good looking man, but they’re usually pleasure slaves he’d bought for the night, not dukes. 

“You’re just as pretty as she is,” San murmured between kisses, feeling underneath Wooyoung’s shirt. “I could fuck you both all day.”

“Have you done that with her?”

“Often,” he said, feeling up and down his back. “She tells me once she starts, she can’t get enough. She has to keep going until she can’t anymore. Not that I complain,” he reached up to pinch one of his nipples, “I could pound her tight holes for hours.” He moved one hand around to grab Wooyoung’s ass, giving him a delicate squeeze, “And I could do the same to yours.” 

“If that’s what you want,” he said. 

San chuckled, “It is. Why do you think I started fucking your girlfriend, Wooyoung?”

“Because you liked her?”

“Partially,” he started unbuckling Wooyoung’s jeans, “I started seeing her because I wanted you to notice me.”

“What?”

Wooyoung noticed San’s large bulge when the latter tugged down the front of his pants. His mouth watered seeing it poking in his direction, a tiny wet spot appearing at the head. The anticipation bubbled in his lower belly when he drunk in the hands against his crotch. Their fingertips and palms drew closer, making Wooyoung’s cock pulsate. When San slowly tugged down the boxers underneath his jeans, Wooyoung moaned when he stuck his hand inside them.

“I thought if you saw me fucking your girlfriend’s brains out,” San continued, rubbing Wooyoung’s tip with the flat of his palm, “You’d want me to do it to you too.” He wrapped his hand around the shaft, then said, “I thought if you caught me with her in your bed, you’d want to join and I could fuck both of you together. I want to fuck you just as much as her,” he stroked Wooyoung slowly and grinned at his soft groan, “I’ve been dying to play with your cock. Can I do that?” he kissed Wooyoung softly, “Can I play with your cock for a while, Wooyoung? I want to taste it.” He pecked his lips a few times as he pumped him carefully. “I want to suck you off and hear all the pretty sounds you make when I do it. I bet you sound just as lovely as your girlfriend.”

“You can play with it,” Wooyoung whimpered, unable to stay still with the pleasure beaming around inside him, “As long as I can play with yours.” He reached out to the large bulge in between them, hearing San’s deep groan.

“Yes,” he breathed, “Of course you can.”

Wooyoung shuddered at the heat filling his hand. Wooyoung could feel the veins throbbing from the blood pumping through it. Their lips came back together, tongues sliding back over as they fondled one another. He loved how it felt in his hand. He saw the length in every long stroke, and the width in every gentle squeeze. Feeling the slightest bit of stickiness, Wooyoung used it to wet the tip poking from the waistband. He moaned into San’s mouth when he withdrew him from his pants, being relieved of the tightness.

“You have such a nice cock,” San groaned, licking the tips of his fingers to wipe around Wooyoung’s end. “How could she not love this? I know I would, if I were her.”

“I don’t know,” he whined, body fully still as the pleasure mounted. “I thought I had a nice one.”

“You do,” he swiped up some precum and licked it from his hand, “And it tastes delicious. If she won’t suck it, then I’m happy to do it.” He kissed Wooyoung again, moving his hips into his hand as he grew harder, “I’ll take her place any time.” He gave the head a squeeze that made Wooyoung whimper, “I can fuck you. You can fuck me. I’ll be whichever you want, baby. I just want,” he swiped a bead of clean precum from the leaking head, “A mouthful of this.”

Wooyoung moaned as San sucked the drop off his finger. With both of their cocks out, San moved his head away and pressed Wooyoung’s tip to his own. Their cocks touching, it brought on a new sensation that turned him into jelly. He moaned each time San’s thick tip pushed underneath his own, grazing the sensitive wrinkles that drove him crazy. A part of him didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to keep going forever, if possible. When the heat became too much, Wooyoung removed his shirt and tugged down his jeans. San spat between them to add more fluid to the mess forming.

“Upstairs?” 

“Upstairs.”

Before the penthouse, Wooyoung used to live in the apartment above the shop. He still kept all the old furniture up there in case he decided to work overnight. Opening a door hidden by purple curtains, San and Wooyoung kissed and fondled one another up the stairs to the second apartment. When the door closed, Wooyoung brought him over to the large bed by the windows. San laid him on the bed and rested on top of him. Straddling his hips, San continued grinding their cocks together as they kissed. Wooyoung’s entire body suddenly became sensitive. He bit his lower lip once San’s mouth found his nipple, the tongue swirling and flicking the peak before sucking firmly. San groaned into it as Wooyoung’s hands grabbed his pert ass cheeks, starting to roll and spread them. Wooyoung would’ve loved to stay hanging up above the teasing.

“How’s this, sweetheart?” San asked, sitting up to gently rub their ballsacks together. He flashed a grin when Wooyoung squirmed at the delicate feeling. “Is that good?”

“Yes,” he whined, starting to stroke San’s cock again. “You look so hot like this,” he said, “I know why she fucks you so much.”

“Oh yeah?” San chuckled breathily, holding himself up to give Wooyoung more to touch. “That’s what I’ve always wanted to hear.”

He spat on his own cock to slicken Wooyoung’s hand, and continued grinding into him. Wooyoung thought he might cum from that alone. The feeling of San leaking in his hand, his heavy balls pressing to his own, and listening to his wanton moans was enough to bring anyone over the edge. 

“No, no, no, baby,” San moaned, “Not yet. We just started.”

“It f-feels so good though.”

“I know it does,” he cooed, stopping his grinding and laying back down over him. Wooyoung whined when he went back to rocking against him. “But, I need you to be good and hold it in for me. I can be patient; we’ll take it slow.”

San laid down beside him in an inverted position, putting his cock inches from Wooyoung’s mouth and vice versa. Putting one arm between his legs to hold him there, San slipped him fully in his mouth. Wooyoung cried out at the hot mouth and tongue gently massaging his pulsating length; the arm holding him in place started grabbing his ass at the same time. He returned the favor by plunging San deep in his mouth. Salty precum spilled onto his tongue as things started up. He mimicked San’s moves so he received all the pleasure he was giving. It drove him insane. He tasted so much better than he thought he would, and he wanted as much as he could get.

“It tastes so good,” Wooyoung moaned against the throbbing head. “I want more.” 

“You’ll get more, baby boy,” San moaned, licking the head in between. “You’ll get all my cum soon. Just be patient and enjoy my mouth for a bit.”

“I’ve always wanted to taste it,” he whimpered, licking up a string of precum that threatened to come out. “I want to see why she’s always sucking you dry.”

“Then taste it, sweetheart,” he said, giving his ass cheek a squeeze and burying Wooyoung in his throat. Wooyoung moaned around the dick in his mouth once he felt that tightness engulf him. “Take my dick all the way in there and get all the cum you want,” he breathed when he pulled back.

No longer using his hands, San kept pushing Wooyoung to his throat as he used both hands to grope his ass. Wooyoung went ahead and did the same. He loved the slight suffocation that came with deep throating San’s girth. He loved the feeling of the head pushing against his uvula and choking him. San groaned when Wooyoung’s arms wrapped around him to grab his ass. The round cheeks molded to his fingers in every squeeze; he could feel the natural demon-slick starting to leak from him with arousal. It tempted Wooyoung into touching him there, which had San pathetically moaning.

“Touch it,” San said, hardly pulling Wooyoung from his mouth. “Touch it, please.”

Even with drool and precum dripping from his mouth, his cheeks and jaw beginning to burn, Wooyoung slipped a finger into the fluttering entrance. Rigid walls clenched the digit prodding all the way to the rough patch that made San tremble. This did not remain one sided for long. Wooyoung squealed when two fingers slid deep into his ass. The two of them wriggled and thrusted around for as much pleasure as possible. Neither of them could help the feelings coursing through them as they fingered and sucked one another. When San rolled them over with him on top, Wooyoung planted himself properly over San and rocked into his mouth. San continued doing the same, even reaching down to hold Wooyoung’s head by the hair. Right as Wooyoung started shaking from his oncoming orgasm, San pulled away.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” San groaned, sliding from Wooyoung to end up on top of him. “I need you to stay still like your pretty girlfriend does, okay?” he asked hurriedly, slapping his cock over Wooyoung’s leaking hole.

San hooked their legs together and laid down on top of him, pinning him to the bed, as he slid smoothly inside. Wooyoung’s moans elongated and went higher with the thick, long length finally buried in him. San reached between him and the bed for the dick dripping onto the sheets, jerking him in time with his gradual thrusts. Wooyoung, kept down by San’s body, surrendered to the constant waves of pleasure coming at him. The world became drowned out by all the senses being stimulated at once. In a nearby mirror, he saw their bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces, their asses rippling each time they met. He reached down to touch San’s thigh, wanting to hold onto some part of him as the other subjected him to massive amounts of pleasure.

“You look so good, baby,” San groaned in his ear, catching them in the mirror. “Just as pretty as your girlfriend. Her ass jiggles when I fuck her from behind too.” He made a few fast thrusts just to prove it, and Wooyoung nearly came right there. San rolled them onto their sides, lifting Wooyoung’s leg so they faced the mirror. “You take me so well too,” he said, angling it so Wooyoung saw them connected in the mirror, “Look at that: your pretty wet hole stretched around my fat cock. Does it feel good, honey?”

“Yes,” Wooyoung cried, starting to stroke himself as he watched San fuck him. “It feels amazing. Your cock feels so fucking good. Please, don’t stop. I want you to fuck me how you fuck her. Fuck me how you fuck her.”

San obliged. He knelt up, straddling Wooyoung’s thigh and putting his leg over his shoulder, and pushed deep inside. Wooyoung swore his belly bulged with San so deep inside. His eyes rolled back at the mind-numbing feeling. He never had a dick as big as San’s before, and he won’t want another ever again.

“Fuck, it’s deep,” Wooyoung moaned, eyes rolling back. “It’s so fucking deep inside me.” He felt his lower stomach and huffed out a laugh when he felt a bump, “God, that’s really hot.” 

“It is,” San agreed, keeping himself hilt-deep and playing with Wooyoung’s sensitive balls. “I could be up in your guts for ages,” he said, watching his partner contort in the mirror. He smirked seeing Wooyoung slowly spiral deeper into his pleasure. “Such a silly cock slut,” he cooed, giving a few short pumps in and out. “Do you want me to keep going like this?”

“Yes!” 

“We’re going to have to-to do more of this la-later,” San said, looking in the mirror with Wooyoung as he kept going the same pace. “I don’t think I can hold my cum any longer. Your ass is fucking milking it out of me.”

“Like hers?”

“Just like hers, baby. Just…like hers.”

“Can I cum too then?” he pouted, feeling himself standing right on the edge of it. He felt San’s tip pushing deep into him every time, the feeling driving him closer to his orgasm. “Please, please, please.”

“Yes, please. I want my pretty baby to cum all over me.” 

San withdrew from him and Wooyoung rolled onto his back. The two of them stroked themselves to their orgasms. Each of them painted the others’ chest and stomach in white strings and droplets. Wooyoung thought he might linger there forever, enduring a never-ending orgasm for eternity before it finally slowed down. San let out a few more pumps until nothing else dropped out of him. The two of them admired their work on the other, still softly groaning and touching each others’ sides. When San fell onto the bed beside him, something dawned on Wooyoung.

“Your brothers and YN were never going to come, were they?”

San chuckled, “Not at all.”

Wooyoung could help but laugh with him.

“Um, well, I was going to come on my own anyways.”

The two of them looked up to see you standing near the bed. Arms crossed, you did not appear outraged at the sight before you, nor did you seem aroused. San sat up, groaning from the soreness in his muscles, and looked over at you. 

“Darling, you’re here.”

“I am, and you’re here too,” you said, trying not to smile. “You know, when I told you about me and Wooyoung, it wasn’t a suggestion to screw him without me.” 

“Hey, I came to see my costume,” San said in defense. 

“His outfit needed alterations,” said Wooyoung, slowly coming down from the high. “I was taking his measurements, and you know how that is. One minute you’re taking in his leg measurements, and the next his dick is in your mouth. It’s a lot.” He shut his eyes as he said, “You’re the one who told your boyfriend that I like cuckolding.” 

“I didn’t think he’d steal my idea,” you replied. 

“Your idea?” 

“Yeah, I was going to insist you deliver the costumes yourself and then make my proposition,” you said, “But it appears San went ahead of me.”

“I didn’t plan for it to go how it did,” San glanced over to him with a smile, “But I’m so glad it did.” He gave Wooyoung a soft kiss that could’ve reignited everything in an instant. 

“Well, when you two are done, can you help me decide between two mask designs?” you asked Wooyoung. “I drew up some and want your opinion on them.”

“Alright, I’ll give them a look.”

“Thanks.” 

San flopped back on the bed as you went back downstairs, a soft laugh escaping him. “She’s cute.”

“You really couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Have you seen yourself, Wooyoung? I wouldn’t have waited for anything.” 

“Fucking incubi,” Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. “Not that I’m complaining, but I did hope for a second round.”

“There will be a second round,” he assured him with a smile. “You can count on that.”

Wooyoung grinned as he watched the demon lord get out of bed and head for the door. Light headed and dazed, he could hardly focus on anything else for a few minutes. His entire body felt rearranged inside and out. 

He'd definitely be making that delivery. 

***

A/N: I hope you guys really liked this side story for Wooyoung. I sort of let this one go where it wanted, and it landed in some woosan sex lol I do have parts of the regular story coming up, but I have so many side stuff that won't have much YN in it that I still wanted to share them. Reblog and like loves <3

[unicornpopcorn14]

1, 8, or 32 for skk (from the hug prompts) 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

bestie you can’t do this to me i will request all of them

THEY'RE ALL SUCH GOOD PROMPTS I AGREEEE

Hug prompts

Decided to go for 1- "Are you cold? You look like you're freezing."

Additionally, for @dazaibirthdayweek2024 Day 3: Good Intentions + Masks

Words: 3.3k. Hope you like it, Essie!! :D

Rings a Bell

You’d think being stuck with your former partner/enemy in a confined space is the worst thing that can happen to a person…

But no, it can get worse, when said confined space happens to be a fucking freezer room.

Yeah, Chuuya has no idea what led them to this. Well, he does, but thinking about it too hard might cause his fifth aneurism today, and, less importantly, dissipate his already fickle energy.

A snicker resounds from beside him, “Chuuya’s growling like a dog again!”

“Shut the fuck up before I hang you from that meat hook myself…” He tries to give his usual bite, but it falls short as his stomach lurches again, feeling awful in all sorts of places.

Great news: he can’t see shit. Mostly blurry shapes and wavering colors, but never past that. It doesn’t help that he has the fattest migraine of the century, accompanied by an urge to vomit he honestly doesn’t know how he managed to fight against this long. Arahabaki, the damn scoundrel, decides to stay standstill and let him handle this one on his own. Fucking fantastic.

He had been told what poison he’s been injected with, but he can’t for the life of him remember the name right now.

And who’s to blame for all of this? You guessed it.

“Chuuya!!” Dazai claps with a higher-than-normal-pitch, which successfully sends stronger-than-usual-ringing to his ears, “How did you know the new method I was planning to try out?! And you’re offering to help me?! My, you should get poisoned more often!”

“You’re lucky I currently am, piece of shit…” God, he wanted to sound harsher than that– perhaps come up with a more creative thing to retort with, but that all gets swept away by low groans and helpless eye rolls…

Chuuya doesn’t know why he even bothers with looking out for that bastard when all he does is become a pain in the ass afterwards. Every time he tells himself he would wholly ignore his former partner the next joint mission, something like this happens which throws all of his vows to the curb:

Dazai was probably distracted, probably not, but Chuuya grabbed him aside anyways, rendering him without an ability for just a second.

And right then a needle buried in his neck.

They got their asses handed to them immediately afterwards, because of course, and the fuckers decided to add onto their frozen meat collection today of all days– thus, their predicament.

Which consists of opposite organization members seated in a freezer room against an icy wall, the mafia member certainly looking more limp and uncoordinated than the other. Chuuya doesn’t know how Dazai’s seated, but he’s 90% sure he isn’t staying still for the life of him, so guessing that would be impossible.

“Think Koyou-san will send a search party after you?” The question comes out as slyly as you’d think a Dazai-question would come out.

“This fast? No… She knows I can handle myself…” Dazai should already know this, as nothing has changed much in the last four years. Chuuya groans out, breathing coming in difficult, “I’d have to be gone for an entire week before she gets worried.”

“Hm, same with the Agency. But not that long. Just a day at most…” He hears shifting from beside him once again, overly wary of his surroundings since his sight is on hold, “So we’re stuck here until the poison symptoms wear off. Alone. Together. Great.” Dazai concludes like it wasn’t fucking obvious.

“At least you have the blessing of seeing in front of you.” Chuuya closes his eyes to stop his spinning vision, as perhaps that can help keep the migraine at bay, “Do you realize… how nerve-racking it is to stay this close to you while blind?! You might try anything…!”

“That’s right!” Dazai chirps, his enthusiasm successfully making Chuuya’s nerves prickle, “Chuuya better use his ultra-deduction-instincts if he wishes to stand a chance!”

He grimaces while thumping his head back, wanting to re-demand the other to shut up for how splitting his voice rings in his skull, but Dazai would probably take that as an opportunity to scream, so he resorts to: “God, I hate you…”

From (unfortunate) experience, and seeing how high on the awful-feeling scale this falls, Arahabaki will stay asleep for twenty more minutes -adding to the fifteen he already suffered through-, until he finally feels the need to fucking do something and starts kicking his freaky immune system to life.

His breath comes out as condensed clouds, each intake of breath colder than the last. The shitty smell of raw meat doesn’t help with the nausea, and he has half a mind to sleep all of this off, but leaving the suicidal freak alone with metal hooks all around is probably a wildly stupid idea. He’s still weighing his options-

“I’m booooored!!” Dazai suddenly whines, high pitched and grating. Chuuya jolts, opening his eyes in order to send the other a scowl out of habit.

Only various shades of brown meet his vision, swimming before him. The migraine remerges tenfold,  “Wh-”

“Chuuya, entertain me!” Dazai leans onto him, shoulder to shoulder, so roughly that the clench of his stomach tightens. Chuuya barely has the energy to push the bastard back, said bastard surely aware of that, “Be my jester! Now, now!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Hey-”

Just as Dazai straightens on his own, Chuuya feels his fedora getting snatched, followed by low chuckles and murmurs of “Disgusting hat, I’mma burn you when we’re out of here…”

If Chuuya were to sound crazy, he’d have told you that Dazai is purposely being extra obnoxious right now– ridiculously so, but four years of separation might have granted him the blessing of forgetting how annoying Dazai could truly get, thus doesn’t humor that thought…

“You have two seconds before I start calling for grantors of dark disgrace and level this whole room over your head.” He warns, and doubts this is a good idea at all (Forcing Arahabaki awake is never a good idea). But he’s seriously getting tipped over the edge and the drug rushing in his veins isn’t helping in the slightest, “Give it, now.”

Dazai stays silent for a few seconds. A few seconds too long. Catching a glimpse of his face threatens to empty out the contents in his stomach, so Chuuya just decides to close his eyes again and relish this brief moment of piece, brushing the flicker of confusion aside.

Then the grating is back, “Fiiiine…”

It’s weird how Dazai takes his already outstretched hand and places the fedora on top of it, even lingering the hold on his gloved fingers for a second before letting go. Weird, but not concerning.

“Smart choice.”  He plants his belonging back on his head, sighing lowly. The option of sleeping sounds like a dream right now– would save him the trouble of handling the two constant problems in his life at once. But nothing ever feels as good as it sounds in Chuuya’s case– sometimes his comfort comes with a heavy price, even.

Suffering through this it is, then.

“Ne, you really still can’t see?” Dazai leans onto him again– not as roughly, but certainly making Chuuya lose his balance all the same, “What about the headache? Is it getting any better? Is it? I’m bored- can you see yet? Can y-”

“No I fucking can’t, that’s why we’re still here!” Chuuya exclaims, successfully shoving him off, unable to handle Dazai’s toddler whining a second longer, “You think I wouldn’t have kicked the door down the second I regained my ability?!”

“Eh, you’re right. The air smells so bad when a dog is sharing it with me.” Dazai taunts, and must be leaning back onto the wall now, legs overly outstretched before him (probably rocking his heels back and forth) because God forbid he ever sit normally, “Too bad the door is too sturdy to budge with my kicks.”

“Cuz you’re a wuss.”

“Cuz it’s sturdy.” The other stresses, then it’s silent for a few minutes. The moment the headache begins to dissipate into a buzzing sting, rather than pounding ache, Dazai decides he should resume the torture session,

“Chuuya should cut his hair.”

That’s… so random. Even by Dazai standards. “What the he- Are you touching it?!”

Fingers tug on the longer end of his hair, brushing it, “Need scissors.”

Chuuya wishes he could recoil back in disgust, he really does, “Keep your grubby fingers to yourself, piece of shit! You know how much product I use?!” He tries to smack the hand away, never lands on it, “They’re worth your damn hands.”

Dazai blows a raspberry, and the fingers meekly abort, “My bad for trying to make a slug look a hundred times better.”

“This is neither the time nor place for it, freak.”

“Oh, so you agree to cutting it later? Consent granted!”

Chuuya springs up from the wall, “THAT’T NOT WHAT I-” At the violent lurch he receives in his abdomen, he gags mid-sentence, but thankfully doesn’t fully throw up. Or unthankfully. He isn’t sure what’s better for him at the moment. He tries to breathe through the acid in his throat, “Fuck…”

He hears shifting from beside him, peeking to deduce Dazai hugging his knees now– rocking back and forth? He closes his eyes again, wishing time wasn’t a slow bitch at the moment. One arm presses to his abdomen, right where it’s angry and upset, the other stays numb on the floor beside him. Several clouds form in front of his lips, with him somehow sweating midst the freezing room, the water cooling on his burning skin terrifyingly fast. Perhaps a minute more and they’d turn solid.

“Can your trusty dusty chaos God wake up any faster?” Oh, right. Dazai isn’t dead yet, so peace for him isn’t an option, “Does turning him off and on again works?”

Chuuya rigids once something that feels like ice pokes his cheek,

“Fucking hell, when did you find an ice cube?” He uncoordinatedly smacks the thing away, which turns out to be a hand. Huh. “You already know the answer to that, bastard. Why are you even trying?”

“Worth it…” He giggles, something breathy about it, off. Chuuya pauses, sharpening his hearing instantly, because anything off regarding Dazai is always a bad sign, and his sense about this never lies. Call it a sixth sense, if you will. “Besides, pestering Chuuya when he’s weak is fun! You think I won’t take my chances? You really don’t know me at all!”

At that his concentrated frown dissipates, immediately replaced by one of assessment.

“Wait a second…” He keeps his head hanged and eyes closed, but his tone rumbles all the same, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Whatever you mean, sluggy poo?”

Chuuya doesn’t fall for the bait, sharpening his hearing even more, “I thought you were being annoying just for the sake of it, but now you’re outright telling me you’re being annoying?” He lifts his head to look at the direction of the other, sending a glare with closed eyes, “You’re trying to hide something. Out with it.”

“Pfff, paranoid much, aren’t we?”

And just like that, Chuuya catches it.

The shivers in the other’s breathing, that automatically translate to shudders in his speech, are so subdued, desperately trying to stay hidden from him, trying to get concealed behind loud pitches and provoking fronts.

It’s a testament to how far gone his mind is in order for that to escape him.

“You’re-” Without asking for verbal confirmation that he wouldn’t get, Chuuya hurriedly takes off his gloves, “Gimme that- where is it?” He blindly wanders till he finds a bandaged wrist and grasps it. The stiffen of the other gets ignored as his hands travel to the only bare parts in Dazai’s body– his fingers and face. The fingers are frigid to the point where he can’t hold them for more than a few seconds, while the moment he clumsily smacks the face in order to cup it with both hands, it’s like all his body heat rushes to it– the skin cold, hungry and craving any kind of warmth, “What the hell- you’re fucking freezing!”

“Wow, what an astute observation, Chuuya.” He hears the roll of the other’s eyes, as Dazai’s quivering fingers hold onto both of Chuuya’s wrists, trying to push them away from his face but not putting that much effort into it, “It’s not like we’re literally in a freezer room.”

“No- this isn’t normal.” Chuuya declares, squeezing the cheeks in. How come cold skin can burn so much? “We’ve only been here for like…”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Exactly. Doesn’t it take about… way longer for hypothermia to kick in?”

“That’s you! You’re the abnormal one!” Dazai exclaims, sounding more genuine than he has been since they’ve been thrown in here. Scratch that– since he’d known him, “You think all people come with a built-in heater? I thought you realized that that’s not the case during your mission in Siberia. And you call me a fish.”

Chuuya pauses promptly. Oh, right. Sometimes he forgets that he isn’t the only one who occasionally wakes up to screams coming from within, or feels unprecedented urge to unleash chaos in stressful situations, or even runs way warmer than others. These are constants in his life. Constants he has to remind himself that no other person experiences…

And even if Arahabaki is asleep, the remnants of his abnormally high temperature is still very much intact. Chuuya doesn’t feel much past the chills of the poison itself, other than that? Coolness at best at his extremists. He’d need to stay here thirty minutes longer for the real frigidness to kick in…

Though Chuuya is equally aware that while his core temperature is abnormally high, Dazai’s core temperature is, funnily enough, abnormally low. Leave him out in the snow for a few minutes and you’d get a hypothermic mackerel popsicle in no time.

Chuuya grimaces. Stupid, stupid.

How could he forget that? His mind defends him, tells him it must have been the poison, that it must have played a part in brushing that fact aside. Chuuya wants to curse it out. He’s retained many random facts about Dazai by heart– so, so many, some even entirely useless; but when it comes to important stuff he somehow has to be reminded of them the hard way. What is wrong with him?

Well, time to make up for that. Harshly, because the bastard deserves it.

“I’m perfectly normal, thank you very much.” He lies through his teeth, but his voice is almost soft, fingers still intact with the skin cosplaying an ice wall, “You’re the one with a terrible immune system that is eager to kill you at the first given chance.”

Dazai chuckles, breathily once again. Shakily, the accurate word for it. “Dying by hypothermia i-isn’t too bad, actually!”

“Just- fucking drop it, will you? You don’t need to do that shit.” Once again he grits out softer than intended, finally cutting the contact. If he had his eyes working, he’d have seen the way Dazai chases the hands for a second before collecting himself and drawing back, “Come closer before I snatch you by the hair.”

“Chuuya wouldn’t have the energy to, anyway…” Dazai finally sounds as slurred and exhausted as he should, and Chuuya’s thankful he can even move– numbness probably there but hasn’t fully settled in.

“You remember our code?”

“Code white? O-Of course I do. Have many fond memories with it.” He hears the rustle of fabric, which means that Dazai is taking off his coat. Chuuya does the same, if a little slower.

“Stage?”

“Mild.”

Chuuya exhales, “Thank fuck, I wasn’t looking forward to sharing body heat with you properly.”

There is a pause, then, “…Severe, then.” He sees the smirk in the Dazai’s face without the need to see at all.

“That so? I’ll bash your head against that metal wall, then.” He knocks behind him twice, just as he senses Dazai drawing near, “Seems like it would do the trick nicely.”  

“No thanks, I-I change my mind. I’d like the mild-stage treatment.”

“Just as I thought.”

Chuuya suddenly feels a weight on his lap, and acts. He takes both of their coats and wraps them with it as make-shift blankets, just as Dazai gets comfortably seated, ear over Chuuya’s heart, knees tucked close. The redhead presses his lips on the hair beneath him before he can help it, feeling the frost that has settled there. One arm supports the taller’s shoulder and back, while the other wraps around Dazai’s midsection, keeping him caged in.

Now without the need to hide anything, Dazai’s shivers turn to trembles, rocking him to his core and rocking Chuuya along with it. The brunette wraps the coats tighter around himself, pulse audibly rapid and panicking, trying to compensate the body for the heat it lost apace.

Chuuya’s migraine begins dissipating a little, and he dares open his eyes, to find the variety of colors taking the form of actual shapes, now. He relaxes, just as he feels Dazai do the same– their positioning, strange as it may come for them, somehow feeling utterly natural…

“Gosh, I almost forgot your stupid tendency to never speak up in situations like this.” The mafioso chastises midst the curls, “What? Were you trying to make up for the fact that I got drugged cuz of you?” Chuuya is sure there might be a number of other reasons, like the fact that Dazai could have simply been waiting to die like that– to pass out from the cold and never feel it when Chuuya tries to wake him up again.

But Dazai’s silence grants him an abundance of answers, one of them that confirms his verbal question, and he tskes in displeasure.

“Goody-two-shoes act that makes me sick...” He rasps, his upset stomach comforted with the added pressure to it.

Dazai huffs, finding the energy to nuzzle his cheek to Chuuya’s chest exactly like a freaking cat, “My personal heater…”

At how weirdly endearing that sounds, Chuuya bristles, “I’m not your fucking-”

“Along with being my dog? Too many jobs for your brain to handle, Chibi…!” Dazai’s slurred speech sounds funny, but the words themselves cause the shorter to growl, “You’ll overwork yourself!”

“Your neck is in a perfect position to get snapped. Watch your words.”

“Hm…” Dazai takes the threat in stride, one of his hands that was lost under the blanket coming up to hold onto Chuuya’s shoulder, “The air still smells bad, by the way.”

“Then I’ll keep you trapped in it for longer.” Chuuya counters, sharing his former partner’s frigidness without mind or care. He meekly feels the forehead concealed under brown bangs, to find it minutely warmer than before. Good, great.

“How much longer are we staying here again…?” Dazai asks.

Chuuya blinks, cozy, “Not much. I can see better now.”

“Mm, then all your strength will be back in ten minutes at most…”

“Of course you still memorize the exact cooldown duration of my ability.” Chuuya would have rolled his eyes if it weren’t for his splitting headache, “Why am I not surprised?”

Dazai keeps quiet, head hanging as he mumbles, “Chuuya’s the one with a bad memory…”

The redhead pauses, unable to deny the present truth before him, “Maybe…” He mumbles back, then huffs, “But at least you’re a thorn in my side that annoyingly reminds me of the kind of stuff I eagerly want forgotten…”

“If it’ll make Chuuya miserable,” Dazai tilts his head up. Chuuya sees the smile so clear, bright and giddy. Blurry at the edges but real. “I’ll always be a thorn in his side that will always keep annoyingly reminding him…”

Something leaps in his heart at the connotation embedded in these words, of his former partner vowing to never leave again, to forever be a part of the mafioso’s life despite what life has done them, despite the circumstances. And Chuuya himself vows to never forget how such a simple word almost sent him in a haze of emotions so deep and human. The word always.

His hold tightens, and he hides his face before mumbling, “Of course it will make me miserable, bastard…”

~~~~

Hc for context: I’m a ‘Chuuya has amnesia as a trauma response’ believer. Like yeah he remembers some details regarding missions but otherwise blocks out anything his mind deems too stressful to deal with. “Your mission in Siberia” Actually had most of his subordinates die because they stayed for the cold too long. :’) Obviously, some missions with Dazai are in that chunk as well, along with the entirety of Stormbringer cuz I said so jnrgjrn.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! This wasn’t my best work so forgive me, Essie! I’ll try my best to edit and tweak some things in here when I have the energy. <33

[ateezinmymind]

ateez and their size kink

warning: smut, fem! reader

requested by anon,, thank you so much!! i hope this is okay.. i’m sorry if it’s not— i’m on the taller side so— i’m like :/ eh?

hongjoong:

to be one hundred percent honest i think he wouldn’t be one to say he’d have that kink ..at first !!

but the way you would just look so cute under him while he’s railing into you... he’s like wait

he’d love to run his hands all over you just to see the comparison

cups your boobs/chest

because he’s shorter.. he’d never put it away

like ALWAYS teasing you..

“hey joongie” you call from your room to your lover in the living room. making him enter the room to you laying on the bed, sprawled out on your back- causing his dick to twitch in his pants from the sight of your body. your robe the only thing on your body, loosely fit and opened, letting your glistening heat be the center of attention.

“naughty little baby... what are you doing?” he growls out coming to the edge of the bed, grabbing ahold of your ankles to pull you closer to his growing member. gasping out from the sudden jerk and now close proximity to his tent- you stutter out your best “mmmh- i need you p-pretty please?”

“and what exactly does my baby need?” he says lowly, now squeezing your thighs deliciously in his hands. making you shiver, “your cock.”

“is that right?” hongjoong hums out when he brings his hands down to rake up your stomach and to your beautiful breasts. causing you to whine more and put your hands over his, and then to his zipper- fumbling with it while chanting and repeating “yes”

he just watches the pout form upon your lips when your hands are too shaky, so when you huff out- hongjoong immediately pushes you back down and shows you how to do it properly. ending with him fucking your tiny pussy before he could even take off his clothes.

“little baby... so small”

seonghwa:

cocky #1

melts his heart honestly.. like how??

DIRTY TALKER

or more like dirty praises?

please let him cum in your tiny pussy

HE WILL FILL YOU FULL

he wondered if it was just affecting him- how small you were in comparison.

you were so small and cute, it made seonghwa become someone he had to calm down. constantly touching you, you were his little thing to fuck and love- not anyone else’s

“you like that huh? my thick cock stretching your tiny pussy?” he growls right against the shell of your ear, while you throw your head back into his neck letting out moans of pleasure.

“yes, yes! seonghwa you’re so big”

and always when you did your chanting about how much you were in admiration for his bigger size, immediately and always made seonghwa want to bust.

it was something he took so much pride into, like yes. yes he was so big, only for you- and he would never live it down, constantly reminding you in anyway that you were on the lower level.

“mmmh gonna fuck my cum in you yeah? you want that? to fill you so full it’ll spill out of your tiny hole?”

just give him the go ahead and he’ll let go.

only to fuck you over and over again until everything spills to your thighs and onto the bedsheets

yunho:

please wear his clothes

he LOVES to fuck you in his big hoodie/shirt

TUMMY BULGE!!

he knows he big so he’s extremely careful when you’re so much smaller

cockwarming!!

but deep down he really wants to destroy you

as he watches his cock slide in and out of your wet heat from his hovering stance. yunho’s hands veiny, under your (his) clothes and resting on your stomach- he feels himself poke from your inners.

the feeling sending him into oblivion, hips frantic- but gentle hearing every whimper fall from your little lips and how your walls clench desperately around him.

“baby? s-stop clenching so hard” groaning out watching your eyes roll back and body to grow limp in his big hoodie covering your top half, yunho feels himself start to lose control

“b-but i can’t- you feel so good yuyu” moaning out blissfully. each word and sounds making him grow hotter and harder

your legs spread apart so wonderfully for him, as he fucks into your body cushioned on the bed. the morning sun peeking ever so slightly from the window blinds, lighting the room- such a beautiful setting for such lewd antics

slapping sounds, so erotic- waking up wanting and needing you, yunho had caved in

you were so small, but by far the warmest- pleasurable feeling

yeosang:

he’d be like ... wow ... tiny

hahahHAHAH jkjk no

but he’d be soooo AMAZED

like.. for real would think he’s going to break you

i think he would really like you to give him HANDJOBS!!

your tiny hands wrapped around him— fuck

he didn’t think that watching a show on tv, with you sitting on the floor while he in the sofa- you between his legs. that he’d be getting hard and actually cause you to crack first.

no way was yeosang going to interrupt your show for a little bedroom playtime, so when it was you who made the first move- things set sail

your fingers brushing over his tip, gathering his leaking arousal- yeosang kept his eyes down watching every move of your small digits and the way both your hands jacking him off looked.

you made him feel huge, and it was true

“y/n- fuck” bucking his hips up, yeosang twitches closer to the edge

having no idea why you’re making him feel close so fast, you just were irresistible with those small features…. all so tempting-

“you can’t even wrap your hands around me~”

but just wait until after he grunts out his dirty comments and amazement, and cums over your hands- it’ll make him hard all over again, and then he’ll compare his size to the tightness of your cunt

san:

cocky #2

are we surprised? not really no

but there’s two things.. does he want to rip you apart or spare you the delicacy?

DEPENDS ON HIS MOOD

if he’s hornyyyy- it’s game over

he’ll do the whole nine— but you better beg

okay doggy would be a position you and san spend having sex in quite a lot.

especially if he’s feeling greedy and pretty much like the most prideful man on earth- because.. i mean he’s the biggest compared to the little baby you are.

“this small pussy takes my big cock so well huh?” he questions you in a low level moan while gripping ahold of your hips tightly

hitting in you perfectly every time, cries of pleasure rip out of you- as your arms can’t keep your upper body up any longer. “mmm- yes! only for you!”

san loves holding his hands on the small of your back while moving his hips in deliberately- making you fall apart just to his doing. your moans made him gleam with delight. and he couldn’t get enough.

so when san pulls out of your sopping cunt- leaving your orgasm to fade away into the midst of no pleasure. and you begin the begging

oh boy. “sannie! n-no don’t stop!! please stretch me out!” with a pout on your lips and hands trailing down to play with your clit- “i need your big cock~”

he’s back in- pounding into you like no tomorrow.. better yet, you’ll be going on until tomorrow- up all night, ripping orgasm after orgasm from your little body

mingi:

princess boy would think you were so cute

omg like :O

YOU ON TOP = MOANING MESS

your small body taking his big everything would make him so bananas

like.. please RIDE HIS THIGHS

climbing on the thickness of mingi’s thighs, two things were going to happen. one; he was going to take in every second of your show and not take any of it further for him, or two; bring the aftermath of it upon you. meaning you caused this achingly hard erection to occur with the friction of your pussy against his thighs, so why don’t you just be so kind and take care of it?

seeing you on top of his spread legs, bouncing yourself up and down his dick- made him feel warmth succumb every part of his body.

“y/n, baby- yes!” deep moans into the air, head thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing. mingi wouldn’t have it any other way

your thighs straddling him, his cock sheathed into you at the pace you make for yourself- all of it was pure bliss

mostly it was when you reached your high. that he couldn’t take it any longer.

your hands gripping tightly into his shoulders, as you continuously abused your sweet hole with him, clenching, moaning- throwing yourself forward to his chest.

once you hit your climax, mingi needs to pull out to spurt his cum over the small of your stomach. absolutely covering you with his white paint. so much of it- just to be splattered about, all over your panting and heaving self was absolutely pristine

wooyoung:

cocky #3

holy hell, YOURE GOING TO NEED HELP

he will ALWAYS make sure you know just how small you really are

like... oh? you can’t reach that? too bad

SO RUDEEE (not really but like) TEASE!

SUCK HIM OFF PLEASE!! he’ll get so whiny

“you little whore huh? really that’s what you are! a tiny little wh- uH~!”

constantly. everytime he’d ramble about having his thick big dick in the smallest little thing of a mouth you have, giving him just a quick suck and pump of your hands- sent wooyoung into a babbling mess.

to the point where you’d have him bucking up with need- because all you do is be small. that’s it.

be the small thing he gets to fuck and love.

oh? you’re hungry? take his cock. oh? you’re bored? take his cock.

it was simple yet exciting. you loved taking him in every way. and he loved the way you- so little yet so proud and confident that wooyoung wouldn’t let it go.

“you j-just can’t get enough can you?” as soon as the stuttering comes repeatedly- it was a cue for you to brace yourself for a load of his seed.

lips wrapped tight around him, your wet little tongue licking and ravishing…. what a sight.

it’s even better when it’s decorated with the milky white of his cum~

jongho:

something inside him will unlock

and he will want to suddenly make you a MESS

MANHANDLING i swear on it

he will lift you up just in regular life

AND in the bedroom

DOES ALL SORTS OF FUCKING- against the wall, standing, etc

it was the little whine that escaped your mouth when jongho had picked you up from the floor and onto the counter when you two were making out- that he knew, fuck yes.

“oh? you’re becoming more and more dumb each time i fuck your tight pussy, hmm” jongho can help the lowness of his voice to become while feeling the way you get even tighter around him, “maybe i ought to fuck you with something else but my cock?”

“no! no! y-your cock please mmmmh- only yours jongho!” your pleading whines that turn into moans into the crook of his neck, for the way he holds you leaves you no choice but to throw your head into

having your body pinned against the wall, so small- easy to use in his advantage and liking

jongho enjoyed the way you were able to be taken anywhere, and in any way. while even during the normal of the day in life- and your going about in public, how you constantly pressed your tiny hands against his abdomen holding him close. jongho, either had a hand cupping your ass or you palming him

no matter the circumstance. jongho lives to see the baby he loves- so small and sweet be needy and breakable to his every demand…

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Nanamin x bakery girl

A friend of mine requested this piece, and I thought " why not post it?" It's a Nanami x bakery girl one shot.

Let me know what you think!

-----------------------------------------------

Yet again, another morning comes, another day full of deceit to make the rich richer.

Nanami's feet took him to the convenience store, to the shelf in the back with the crusted bread in complete auto pilot.

As soon as he stopped in front of the shelf, a big sigh left his lips. He opened his eyes to find the shelf filled with a different type of bread.

Nanami blinked a couple of times, sighed once more and grabbed some random snack while making a mental note to find another place close by that sold said crusted bread.

On his lunch break he searched for places close by and found a bakery. Good. Finally something good on this long, boring day.

In the next morning and so many mornings forward this became a routine and somewhat a ritual:

Enter the bakery, mumble a greeting, ask for the bread, thank the lady and leave.

This little interaction was just fine for him, no need for idle chat or long lines. She never said much besides the typical clerk lines:

" Good morning! What would you like to have today, sir?" Followed by a " thank you very much".

That is, until one day:

Bakery girl: You sure like this kind of bread, sir.

Nanami: I used to buy these at the convenience store nearby.

Bakery girl: And ours is more delicious right?

Nanami: well... this is a bakery...

The girl took the simple comment as a compliment and beamed at him. Such a cute smile this early in the morning made Nanami sigh. Some people have a lot of energy for little things, huh?

He grabbed his bread and as he thanked the clerk he noticed a creature on her shoulder. It was a small and blue-ish curse, no big deal. Such a small thing, as small as a ferret won't cause any harm, so no need to worry. Right?

In the next few days he saw that little thing double in size. No longer as tiny as a ferret, but as a big as cat or a small dog now:

Nanami:... Are you feeling tired lately?

Bakery girl: ah, you've noticed. My shoulders have been feeling stiff. I get so much tired too!

Nanami: My job is to take money from the wealthy and make these people even more wealthy. Frankly, no one would mind if I was gone. Yet for some reason, my job, which exists outside that natural human cycle pays better.

Bakery girl: a- are you bragging?

Nanami: No, I am not. Could you take a step forward?

With a swift movement the curse was gone from the lady's shoulder. He could see instant relief on her eyes and that big and cute smile appeared again on her features.

Nanami: Excuse me.

Bakery girl: Wait! I didn't get to thank you!

Nanami simply walked away. Didn't bat an eye to the lady's shouts of thank you's or what else she would be speaking.

He grabbed his phone and called Gojo. As soon as the man answered the phone Nanami let out a big sigh:

Nanami: What are you laughing about?

A couple of days went by, back to being a jujutsu sorcerer huh? The worst thing? Gojo. He was the worst of this job. Nanami sighed from the sickening nostalgia this job brought, the smell of blood, the heavy gloom in the air, the tortured bodies laying around and those pleas of mercy.

This familiar situation made a thought cross his mind: how could he have thought that curse wouldn't grow and hurt the bakery lady? He didn't even know her name and he just allowed himself to give a blind eye to that evil little thing.

Arriving at jujutsu high from a long and tiring day, he crossed paths with Ijichi:

Ijichi: Nanami-san! Good thing I caught you here! Gojo-san keeps saying he have a surprise for you and-

Nanami: What now?

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Ijichi fidgeted a little with his fingers, clearly nervous about this " surprise"

Nanami: Thank you for the warning.

He strolled inside the school, paying attention to every corner, every shadow and every little noise, just in case this "surprise" turns out to be a " lovely" one.

Yet, nothing so far, at least outside. One, two, three steps in the building and... nothing. Couldn't let his guard down yet! He arrived in the direct room, still apprehensive, but nothing of Gojo. Good. Or maybe not? He started to get worried that the fool either tricked Ijichi or something weird was coming up.

He left the meeting with a new mission in hands, he sighed as he closed the door:

???: Na-Na-miiii!

Nanami: !!

???: How was your daaay?

Nanami blinked and felt a vein or two pop. There he is, the annoyance is person:

Nanami: What do you want?

Gojo: I was waiting for you~~

Nanami ignored Gojo and started walking back the long school hallways:

Gojo: Hey, hey, hey!

Nanami: .....

Gojo: Hey, hey, hey!

Nanami: ....

Gojo:I have something for you!

Nanami: ....

Gojo: Oh, c'mon you are hurting me! It's a gift!

Nanami: I want nothing from you.

Gojo: Who said it was from me?

Nanami: ....

Gojo: hmmmm you know, I was walking by the city and I went to a-

Nanami: I don't care and I don't want to know about your adventures.

Nanami kept walking. Gojo stopped mid way and grinned:

Gojo: What am I supposed to do with this crusted bread then? A nice young lady gave it to me " a boring looking man always bought these!"

Nanami stopped on his tracks:

Gojo: If you don't want it then, can I eat it?

Nanami flinched:

Nanami: Sure.

Gojo:... Are you sure~~? Because Name-chan seemed so agitated with something, like you did vush! And the heavy shoulder was gone~~

Another vein made itself to be known:

Nanami: How- no, why do YOU know that? I doubted she told a random stranger about it.

Gojo: Weeeeell, I heard someone on the phone the other day and I decided to do some digging. And you know, who can resist me?

Nanami:...... forget I asked anything

Nanami proceeded to walk again, faster. But not enough to avoid Gojo:

Gojo: What kind of good deed made you come back?? Hmmmm??? Saving a helpless woman in dire need?

Nanami sighed and finally snapped at the man:

Nanami: you can have that, stop nagging me.

Gojo's smile fell to the ground. He guessed that wasn't a good way of teasing Nanami, there sure would be something else soon.

While Nanami walked fast, very fast, back to his home, he had one thought in mind: find the girl again and thank her for the gift and, most importantly, to avoid Gojo completely.

Of course he didn't do that the next day. Gojo would probably be watching. So he skipped his visit to after his mission.

As soon as it was done and before letting the jujutsu team know the case was solved, he stopped by the same bakery again:

Bakery girl: Welcome! How may- Wow! Are you ok?

Nanami:.... Yes and you?

The man was dirty, bruised and had cuts everywhere. But he talked and acted as if it was nothing out of the ordinary:

Nanami: Name, thank you for your thoughtful souvenir. I would like to recommend you to not let that... man, get to you.

The girl was beyond confused at first. After a moment she noticed it was about the bread from weeks ago:

Bakery girl: Oh! You received it! I wasn't sure you got it! I am glad, I wanted to thank you so much! After that day my shoulders didn't feel heavy anymore and things started to look better!

Nanami:.... I see.

Bakery girl: you never came back again,so I thought you moved or something. But then that white haired guy asked some weird things and-

Nanami: don't ever answer him again.

Bakery girl: W-why not? Is he a bad person? Like a criminal?

Nanami: No, he is just.... him.

Nanami sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and took a seat. The clerk got even brighter at this small gesture and started to serve him the crusted bread again with a cup of coffee:

Bakery girl: I am glad to have you back!

Nanami: .... Good to... be back...

He listened to her talk, happily chatting about some changes on the menu and the neighborhood. For some odd reason, this small chat seemed so... comfortable and safe. Something so mundane felt awfully welcoming.

And soon he saw himself going back there from time to time. When he couldn't go, a little basket was delivered to his home. This felt so warm.

Obviously this peace and quiet didn't last long. Gojo soon found out about it and started annoying Nanami: " aaaw! I became a match maker <3" or even "look, look, I knew it! I knew you had a heart deep down!"

But, hey, all this poking and teasing from Gojo was worth it. While he got an annoying companion with him during business hours, he got a wonderful company in his free time. A fair trade, right?

-----------------------------------------------

That is it!

I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Was it too ooc? It was tough writing for the Bakery girl!

Thank you for reading!

[yandere-sins]

Hello! How are you? May I pls request the prompts scratches and collar for Sakusa Kiyoomi for the yandere writing challenge thingy? I hope this is alright! Thank you <3

Thanks for requesting!! Sakusa is one of my favorites actually, so I am really excited to write for him! uwu Please enjoy!

Scratches - “Try that again sweetheart, I dare you.” (I don’t want to overlap prompts too much, so I am doing just this one!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Living with Kiyoomi had never been easy.

When you two got married, you’d been quite intimidated by him after your husband wouldn’t look at you even once the whole day. You thought to yourself about how much he must have hated you, considering he only agreed because you two had been promised since your childhood. This marriage didn’t seem like something he was interested in, and the moment you were ‘unloaded’ at his home, you felt like the strangest organism in the whole world.

Nonetheless, you tried to be liked. If you at least couldn’t be a nuisance to him, you thought he might accept you as his partner. But all your attempts backfired gloriously. He wouldn’t eat your cooking, clean over your cleaning, ignore you after he came home from training. For the first year or so, he wouldn’t even take you to one of his matches. You were sure other spouses were allowed to go, so why not you?

But you got used to it. You had to, somehow, or else you probably would have never stopped feeling unloved and unwanted. It wasn’t what you expected, hearing about love all this time, but you didn’t have a bad life by his side, at least. His accounts were filled with money, food was delivered fresh to your doorstep every day, and though you didn’t know anyone in the city that you two settled in, you got along well enough with your neighbors, so you didn’t feel too lonely.

And what you least expected, once you accepted that you and Kiyoomi could never be an item, he started to relax too. Had you been too much? Maybe pushing him too far without realizing? Intruding on him? Or perhaps he had just been told to be nicer to you by his parents, but your surprise was great when he joined you to watch TV one evening.

Given, he didn’t speak a word and didn’t seem too interested in the show you were watching. There also were about two seats free between you, but it was a start. And gradually, your relationship improved.

»»———————— ♡

Nervously, you looked at your outfit, wondering if it was too much. Kiyoomi had never asked you to dress up to accompany him before, scowling whenever you decided to try and impress him with your fashion sense or asked to go with him. Even now, you knew that asking you to come and meet sponsors was just a way to look good in other people’s eyes; he even had a suit delivered to him that day. It wasn’t you who was wanted. It was the image of being married to someone. But as his partner, maybe that was the only thing you could do to please your husband.

“Are you ready?” he asked through the door, not daring to step into your room. He never had entered it ever since you moved in, and you wondered if it was because he disliked you so much or because he feared you were ‘dirty’. But you gave yourself an encouraging nod in the mirror, quickly making your way out. “All done!”

You didn’t expect him to stand right in front of the closed door as you opened it, almost running into him but stopping at the last second. “Do I look fine?” you asked, noticing him appraising you over the rim of his white mask. He looked comically like that, suited up yet wearing gloves and mask as if he was going to clean, but even so, you had to give it to his looks that he was handsome. You didn’t doubt your own attractiveness, but the curt, “It’s alright,” he muttered did sting.

»»———————— ♡

Had you known how exhausting these kinds of events were, you would have almost been thankful that he never took you with him before. Giving it all you had sure was taxing when you never did it before, but you wanted oh-so-badly to be accepted by Kiyoomi’s side. You didn’t even notice your own mental exhaustion until you finally had a chance to sit down.

Alone, again.

Maybe you simply weren’t fit for this kind of life. You didn’t know much about volleyball, and there were many weird insider jokes you didn’t understand. Everyone appeared so friendly, some faces still familiar from the wedding, yet you couldn’t help but notice the pity in their eyes. They were all thinking the same thing, you were sure. Just how pitiful you were to be so unluckily married to a man who never seemed interested in what you two had.

“What’s the long face for, hm?” you suddenly heard a cheerful voice, something cold being pressed to your cheek and startling you. You looked up in confusion, only to be blinded by a warm and cheerful grin, the light of the room being reflected through a water bottle and accentuating his features even more.

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, reaching up for the drink he held out to you. “I didn’t see you coming, Atsumu-san. I’m sorry, I was in thoughts...”

“No offense, but you don’t seem to have much fun,” he sighed, plopping down next to you. “It’s such a shame Omi-Omi never shows you off, yer so cute, you know? Makes it much easier to endure parties like these!”

Laughing it off, you found yourself mesmerized by how carefree Atsumu seemed. To you, all of this was a big deal, and you had always assumed it was the same for everyone. But apparently, more people shared your sentiment of the time seemingly dragging out. Without noticing, you chuckled, and Atsumu’s eyes flitted over to you before he straightened his back briefly, crossing his legs. Smirk falling over his lips, you almost caught yourself gasping at how gorgeous he looked in the ambient lighting around you two.

“That’s much better. Ya should laugh more!”

Feeling the warmth spread through your face, you quickly cleared your throat, looking away as to not stare. For a moment there, you thought he really looked like an angel, making you feel at peace around him. “I just- You know- You call him Omi-Omi?” you changed the topic quickly, trying to hide the awestruck expression on your face by hiding behind your hand a bit.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Wouldn’t recommend it, he doesn’t really like it, but it’s fun teasing him, ya know? He gets all-” Reaching up, Atsumu pushed his brows together and put on his best impression of Kiyoomi. “‘Don’t call me that, you Idiot. Work on your serve if you have so much time.’ That’s what he says to me! I’m just trying to be friendly...”

Shaking your head slowly, you couldn’t hold back your laugh as you listened to him gush on about your husband treating him ‘unfairly’. Part of you felt sad having to hear it from a third person, never having been able to collect experiences with him yourself. Still, you were also relieved to see he wasn’t just treating you so coldly. “You’re so funny, Atsumu-san,” you chuckled, and he finally stopped talking, relaxing next to you after his tirade.

“There we go,” he mumbled, and you felt his hand fall to your head, giving it some pats. It made your heart grow to receive the affection, slowly but surely making you realize you had been missing fooling around and laughing or even being touched gently for a change. “Don’t let him get to you, ya hear me? Or I’ll come and kick his ass for you!”

“Who’s ass are you kicking?” you both were suddenly interrupted, and knowing the voice, you looked up. Shame hitting you, you stood up, Atsumu’s hand falling from you as you slipped out from under it, facing your husband cautiously. “Kiyoomi, you’re back!” you mumbled, wondering if your mood change was too noticeable. “Yeah, we’re leaving,” he announced, ready to go.

“Don’t just go around touching other people’s spouses, Atsumu,” he warned his colleague sharply, his arm coming around your back. Still, not even the tip of his glove touched you, much less gentle than Atsumu did.

“Mood-killer,” you heard Atsumu complain. “Good night, [Name]!” he called after you, and you graced him with a brief smile thrown over your shoulder, waving after him while you let yourself be led out by your husband.

»»———————— ♡

The ride home was almost as tiring as the evening itself, and the streetlights passing you as you looked out the window weren’t enough to keep you awake. It was a long drive, but the next thing you noticed was a warm body carrying you upstairs from the garage. “Bastard,” you heard a voice, slowly but surely regaining your senses.

“Kiyoomi?” you asked meekly, rubbing your eyes. Blinking a few times, when you looked up, you were met with a disgusted glare staring down at you, instantly making you shrivel into yourself. A flight instinct set in, and only now you noticed he was carrying you through the hallway of your house, not bothering being gentle with the bathroom door once he reached it.

He seemed furious and disgusted, and at least one of these were emotions you had never seen him make before. You almost expected him to drop you into the bathtub as you found yourself hovering over it, but he set you down gently. Nonetheless, the sudden stream of cold water hit you like a slap in the face as he turned on the shower without even a moment of hesitation. It grew warmer quickly, but you found yourself weirded out as your clothes began to stick to you. Kiyoomi, too, barely took off his blazer before kneeling down next to the tub, reaching for the shampoo standing close by.

It was in no way gentle or comfortable as he rubbed it onto your head, the gloves he wore not helping at all. You began to splutter as you had to close your eyes, soap going everywhere on your face. “Where else did he touch?” Kiyoomi asked, almost too calm for the fact it felt like he was trying to press the shampoo into your head rather than wash you. “No- Nowhere!” you complained, ducking out from his touch and wiping away soap from your face. “What are you doing?!”

“I don’t believe you,” was all the answer you received to your question. “Tell me. Now. Don’t make this harder for us.”

“What...” you muttered, flinching as you felt his hands fall to your body, grabbing your clothes. “What’s wrong with you!” you finally yelled, swatting his hands away harder than you wished you did. Finally, you got the time to wash off the soap and open your eyes again, feeling ill-treated and confused by his actions. Though despite the warm water, as you finally managed to look at him again, you felt your body freeze.

You thought you knew how he looked at you all this time. Disappointed, disapproving, and disgusted, but this time it was different. He looked at you as if you just ripped his heart out and claimed he was fine like that, and that hurt almost more than any look before. But in the next moment, it was gone, just like a snap of his fingers, and he grabbed your wrist, tightly and unbudging even if you complained. “Try that again, Sweetheart, I dare you.”

Blinking a few times, you couldn’t decide what was scarier; seeing him for the first time up close, face only inches from yours and without the mask, which usually gave some more distance between you two, or having him threaten you. Kiyoomi never talked more than a few words with you at a time, nor did he show any interest in anything you did. “Slap my hand away again, and I will make sure you can’t use it for a long time, you understand? Don’t you know by now who you belong to?”

His questions were so clear, yet in your head, they made no sense. Who did you belong to? Who was it?

“Y-You?” you eventually muttered. “Do I belong to you?”

A question as stupid as it sounded, and yet, it eased Kiyoomi’s rage, it seemed. “That’s right,” he confirmed. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine ever since we met for the first time, don’t ever forget that. I am the only one that is allowed to touch you and no one else. Especially no sleazy bastards like Atsumu.”

“Kiyoomi...”

“Undress,” he interrupted you. “I have to clean you.”

Hesitating, you gripped your own clothes. Never before had you heard him talk like that, especially not about you. You never even believed he could have those thoughts about you, and after being unloved for so long, they felt like bandaids to your wounds. Mind you, not strong bandaids, no. They didn’t even manage to heal you partially, but who were you to complain. Because, what Kiyoomi said...

“Okay,” you whispered, slowly stripping out of your clothes. “I’m sorry... Omi.”

You were stretching your luck, but you were so close to tears as he placed his hand on top of your head. It wasn’t like Atsumu’s. It wasn’t gentle, and it didn’t fill your core with happiness. No, it pressed you down, making you lower your head and feel so insignificant compared to its greatness. But it was Kiyoomi’s. The person you wanted to be loved and caressed by the most.

“It’s okay,” he sighed, and for once, his voice sounded almost gentle and forgiving after you did something. His hand stayed as his free one helped you get out of your clothes, and laying your own hand on top of his, you felt his warmth for the first time, no glove separating you two.

And to this day, you still remember wondering if what Kiyoomi said meant that he loved you too.

Even if that meant you were living in the worst kind of relationship possible.

[You can find the prompt list here]

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏 (𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)/ ���𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐍𝐨𝐧-𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥! 𝐀𝐔

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞/ 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟓𝐊

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐒𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬

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Taking the milkshake glasses off the counter and making sure the space was throughly wiped down and sanitized, San's eyes looked up when the familiar midnight blue Nissan sedan, whose model he'd never given a damn to memorize, parked in front of the restaurant, signaling the arrival of the person working the closing shift that day. His heart practically somersaulted when he caught glimpse of the soft, silky [insert color] hair stepping out of the vehicle, the owner such pretty hair owning an equally beautiful face. While his heart pounded, his stomach turned sick when he saw the driver come out as well, going over to where she was, whispering a goodbye in her ear. To anyone passing by, it'd look like a normal couple, a boyfriend bringing his girlfriend to work and giving her a kiss, no doubt promising to pick her up later.

But San knew better.

His eyes always caught on to the way she stepped back slightly, her arm folding across her body when his hand reached out to caress it, his fingers no doubt gripping down harshly on her skin. She didn't kiss him back, she just allowed him to place his lips momentarily on hers before patting her cheek lightly with his palm and soon going back to his vehicle and driving away. He watched her take a deep breath before she felt ready to go inside and start her shift.

"Hey Y/N!" He did his usual friendly and warm way of greeting her, his smiling eyes and dimples putting a genuine smile on her own somber countenance.

"Hi San. How's it been?" She inquired as she punched her number in.

Shrugging his shoulders, he sighed.

"Same as almost every Wednesday. Dead, boring and mostly the regulars or just travelers."

She shook her head, already mentalizing herself that it'd be another day spent cleaning what's already clean and over stocking the merchant just to pass time. She went inside the office to put on her uniform shirt and apron. San in no way ever peeked in to see her cause he was a pervert, he respected her and would never allow himself to think of any inappropriate scenarios involving her. However, he would always sneak a tiny glance every now and then for one particular reason. Tilting his head slightly so he could see through the tiny cracked door, he watched her take off her denim jacket and felt his grip tighten on the glass cup he was currently drying when he spotted some purple blotches on her bicep. He immediately looked away as he did not want to get angry in front of her. He hastily put the cup back in the shelf under the counter, throwing the rag onto the marble counter in a rather aggressive manner.

"Ok San, tell me what needs to be finished."

Coming out in full uniform and hair held up with her usual choice of a colored scrunchie, this day choosing yellow, Y/N looked at her coworker and waited for him to give her a task.

"Nothing really except wait on customers. I already stocked the fridge and pulled out the stuff needed from the freezer."

He was always doing that, doing not only his side workload but also hers, which more often than not had her pouting at him.

"So I'll just be bored to death?" She huffed.

Chuckling, San stepped closer to her, making sure to keep an elbow distance from her, knowing she tended to get apprehensive when someone came to close to her than she was comfortable with.

"Not really. There's plenty of things to amuse yourself with. Besides.......maybe now you won't hurt yourself so much from lifting heavy objects..."

His tone lowered involuntarily at that last part. He knew very well the bruises weren't cause she'd accidentally hit herself on the railings in the back because she lost her balance carrying stuff in and out of the freezer. She herself tensed up a little at his words.

"Oh right......heh.....clumsy me right?" She tried to plaster an unfazed smile on her face, only succeeding about halfway.

Unable to control his movements, San's hand reached out to tuck some of the hair slipping out of her ponytail behind her ear. It hurt him to no end when she flinched slightly at his movement, he could feel her tensing up when his fingers made contact with her temple. As he squinted his eyes, he could make out the uneven patch of concealer and powder on the area close to her hairline, a tiny hue of reddish purple peeking slightly through. She relaxed when he finally retreated his hand.

"Just try to be careful and take care of yourself. I don't like seeing you get hurt."

She probably didn't know, or maybe she did, he was painfully obvious when it came to her, that he meant what he said in more ways than one.

"You too....see you San."

Once more, he held himself back from blurting out everything that was kept in his chest, instead opting for giving her a farewell and going out to the parking lot to get inside his red 1989 Ford f150 and drive over to his friend's house, the bunch of them waiting for him to complete his shift and come over to their place.

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"Aish seriously San, just forget about her. Plenty of fish in the sea." One of the pair of giants told him as he chugged back the remnants in his bottle.

"And you have a lot of fish waiting for you to reel in your rod so they can bite right in." His friend sitting next to him wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"Stop you guys." San pushed the blonde away.

"Mingi and Wooyoung are right though San. You have girls and guys lined up all willing to drop their pants for you at anytime. Lucky bastard." Yunho, the other half of the giant squad chuckled lowly.

"I don't want any of them though... you guys don't understand." San looked down at the floor.

The other blonde haired male in the room, Yeosang, rolled his eyes at him, unable to understand his infatuation for the girl.

"You've been pining for her since high school. When are you going to let her go? She chose and still chooses to this day Lee Taeyong."

Slamming his fist on the table, San angrily looked at him.

"Don't fucking mention that asshole's name near me!"

Everyone grew quiet, the members who were bordering on getting tipsy suddenly sobering completely up as if there was absolutely no drop of alcohol in their system. San was usually a very friendly and sweet person, but he was also sensitive and emotional, and lately he'd manifest it through anger and rage, and it was truly terrifying to them. But they knew he had reasons for lashing out like that. They knew his hatred for Taeyong, not just for being able to score the girl he'd been in love with for ages, San would have stayed content and wholeheartedly happy had she'd been loved and cared for like she deserved to be. But instead, he had to watch as she was constantly belittled and sometimes shoved hardly into the ground, landing her scraped knees or bruised palms. He could only imagine what went on behind closed doors.

"San......you have to accept reality, all of us do whether we like it or not. Her friends aren't blind to what's happening to her. Teacher's at university aren't either, they've all tried approaching her about it.....she won't listen to anyone." Yunho decided to finally say what everyone was thinking.

"She doesn't deserve it! It's toxic and sick!" He cried out in desperation.

"But ultimately it's her choice........ you can't force her to get help or leave if she doesn't want to. She's been with him for years."

Unwilling to hear anymore, San quickly picked up his leather jacket and stormed out the house. He drove the streets like a mad man, his fist hitting the steering wheel every time he stopped at a red light. He would have continued his angry drive back to his place had he not spotted an all too familiar denim jacket walking on the road. Slowing down the truck, he pulled closer to the right side and stopped right in front of the figure trembling in the cold night air.

"Y/N?" He rolled down his window so she wouldn't be startled by some stranger suddenly pulling up next to her.

"Oh! Hey San!" She said through chattering teeth.

"You're walking home all alone?" He could not believe this.

"Uh....yeah! My boyfriend got caught up at work....didn't want to bother him so I'm walking home...it's not that far!" She tried to sound reassuring, but he could see right through her.

"You want a ride?" He offered.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it'd be a good idea or not.

"Hey it's ok. I'm not going to kidnap you or anything. I'll just drive you straight home. We don't even have to talk if you don't want. Just you, me and some old jams playing on the radio all right?"

Unable to resist that dimple smile that always made her feel fuzzy inside, she allowed him to open the door for her from the inside. After giving him her address, she found he stayed true to his word and just drove in silence the entire time. She was kinda thankful for it. She was tired after her shift, exhausted from walking and from how late it was, and more than anything, she felt like she was going to spill tears any minute if she even got out a single word. She felt worn out, her head resting on the window, eyes opening and closing as tiredness began to overtake her. She only awoke when she felt a light hand caress her cheek. In other circumstances, she would have immediately swatted the hand away and pushed the face near her own as far away as possible. But she didn't do that, she felt strangely safe and protected by the male next to her as he brushed some hair off her face.

"We're here. Safe and sound just like I promised."

Safe.........

For some reason she felt anything but safe as she looked at the house in front of her.

"Thanks San." She smiled weakly at him as she began taking off her seat belt.

"Call me if you ever need a ride. I mean it. I don't want you catching a cold...or-or worse..." He admitted.

"Thank you, really. Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

She took slow steps to the front door, San didn't drive away until he confirmed she was inside. With a heavy heart, he drove away back to his place, unaware that the girl he dropped off was watching through the peephole his departure, still staying there moments after he had disappeared from sight. She sighed despondently as she dropped her bag onto the floor, slumping her body onto the couch as it was useless to try to go sleep in the bedroom given the pornographic moans and thumping noises coming from inside it. Wouldn't be the first or last time she came home to such sounds. She simply curled up into a fetus position, falling asleep in the usual way:

Tears falling out of the corners of her eyes.

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"What do you mean she's not coming?"

San nervously gulped as his boss told him Y/N's boyfriend called to say she had a little accident and couldn't go in that day. He knew it was bullshit and he was going to find out what really happened. After going to classes the next day, he actively searched around campus for any signs of her or Taeyong. After asking around, a girl motioned to the football field, saying that's where they'd often go to at times. San squinted his eyes as he looked all over for them, finally spotting them near the bleachers. His fist tightened as he watched Taeyong once again put his filthy hands on Y/N, shoving her to the ground, making her land face first, her palms outstretched and scraping against the grass under her. He watched as Taeyong simply walked away, leaving her there, not caring about if she was seriously injured or not. Unable to hide any longer, San sauntered over to her, his arms picking her up from the ground.

"Y/N it's me!"

He didn't mean to shout at her, but having her scream and cover her head protectively gave him no other option. He nearly began crying himself when she lifted her head, her eyes full of fear and panic.

"Oh! It's you San! Sorry for that!"

As she stood up, she began dusting the dirt off, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ankle. Faking a smile, she giggled nervously.

"Clumsy me again, tripping on some-"

"Y/N stop lying to yourself. I saw everything."

Her face darkened at his words, her eyes becoming glued to the floor as she avoided his gaze like she did the others. She hated seeing their pitiful stares and shameful eyes, she believed San probably had the same look as well. She couldn't be more wrong as his eyes just looked at her in despair and agony.

"Why? Why do you put up with it? Why do you stay with him? Why do you torture yourself like this?.....

Why do you love him?"

He asked that last question more to himself than her. Y/N crossed her right arm over her chest, her hand clutching her left bicep as she gently massaged the muscle there. San knew it was the same bruised arm he had seen a few days ago, it was probably even more battered up than the last time he saw it.

"I can't......I don't know....."

Seeing her struggling to form words, San opted for gently hovering his hands around her, maneuvering and ushering her to sit on the bleachers without ever laying a single finger on her. Opening his backpack, he took out the mini first aid kit his older friend, Seonghwa, had given him, actually deciding to put it to use for once.

"I'm going to clean these scrapes ok?"

He looked at her and waited til she gave him permission to touch her. She did not flinch away at all when he began wiping off the dirt and blood accumulated on her knee or hands, only momentarily when he applied the disinfectant spray on her wounds.

"Sorry." He apologized.

"It's fine.......I'm used to hurting...." She finally admitted.

He wanted to speak up again, but found it hard to find the right words. He focused on applying ointment on her wounds and bandaging them up nicely.

"How long has he pushed you around?" He needed to know.

"Started 3 months after we became official.....but even before that, he'd often tease me and what not........ it doesn't hurt ....." She lied once more.

"The Y/N I knew never lied even to save her life. Sad how someone like him managed to change that." He finished wrapping the gauze around her knee.

"I haven't changed at-"

"Yes you have." He interrupted once again.

"The Y/N from then was a cheerful, happy ray of sunshine known for her bubbly personality and kindness to others. She loved going out with friends and hated staying indoors for too long. She was always honest and ready to help anyone in need, especially cute abandoned animals, she was a real softie for them."

She chuckled softly at his words, not denying any of it.

"I still am soft for them." She corrected him.

"But you're no longer happy. You're sad, somber and being in pain all because of an asshole who doesn't deserve you.......he doesn't deserve your love."

Although she heard him and wanted to believe his words, her mind blocked out such reasoning.

"But he does love me.......he swears it....every time it happens, he apologizes and promises-"

"It's all lies Y/N! He doesn't love you! If he loved you he wouldn't hurt you physically and emotionally. He wouldn't be the reason why you're only a shell of the person you used to be. He doesn't love you and he'll never love you..."

She let his words sink, trying to digest what he was saying.

"I know because I've loved you for so long and I'd never even think about putting you through half of what he has."

She whipped her head up at his words, seeing the earnest and emotion in his eyes as he finally confessed what was in his heart.

"San......" She was left speechless.

He teared up, scoffing at himself as a dry smile formed on his face.

"You have no idea how much it hurts seeing you be in pain and not able to do anything about it. Having you flinch at my touch when all I want is to comfort and hold you."

Without thinking, he cupped her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that began falling down her eyes.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself Y/N. You can't spend the rest of your life living in fear and chained to someone who just wants to make you suffer. You can't allow someone to take away your joy and peace of mind. You shouldn't be afraid to be free and enjoy life. You deserve to be happy and loved."

He used his last bit of self control he had and stopped himself when he leaned his face too close to hers, his nose brushing against hers, expecting her to shiver away from his touch, but instead she seemed to wait for his next move. Knowing he'd never forgive himself for it, he pulled back, leaving her disappointed and himself in agony.

"Please take care..."

Taking off his leather jacket, he placed it on her back, fanning out the sleeves so it'd cover her shoulders. Then he turned around and began walking away from her, shoulders slumped down and heart aching to go back and just take her away for good. But he resolved himself not to. Not until she specifically asked him to.

When Y/N finally got back to her place, Taeyong wasn't there. He was probably spending the night at one of his side chick's place, no doubt getting buzzed and high out of his mind. Her soft bed no longer comforted her, so instead she slid down and sat on the floor, hugging her knees and occasionally running a finger through the fabric of San's jacket. His scent was still on it and every time she inhaled it, it had a soothing and calming effect on her mind and heart that soon helped her tense body relax until she felt sleepy. It took a lot of effort, but she climbed into her bed, not bothering to cover herself with the blanket or change into more comfortable and less confining clothes.

San's jacket was the only comforting thing at that moment......

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Nudging him with his elbow, Yeosang whispered to the male next to him the presence of the girl that was slowly approaching them. Always reacting to anything related to her, San turned his head and smiled softly when he saw Y/N walking up to him.

"Hey." He greeted her.

"Hi.....I came to return this. Thanks for letting me borrow it." She held out his leather jacket, neatly folded and visible clean.

"Oh Y/N, you really didn't need to go that far." San became shy at her gesture, and worried about if she washed it cause he had forgotten to and it disgusted her.

"Don't say that. It's the least I can do for all you've done..."

She looked up at his eyes as she said that, her heart fluttering when he rested his hand on top of hers when he tried to take back his treasured article of clothing, letting it stay there for a moment, his fingers giving her hand a light squeeze. His friend behind him looked back and forth between the both of them, confused by what was going on and internally gagging at their mushy scene.

"I wanted to say thank-"

"Y/N!"

The voice calling out for her roared in her ears, sending her into a panic mode as she pulled away immediately from his physical contact. San noticed the way her body tensed up and her eyes became afraid. His own eyes narrowed at the icy blue haired man strutting up to them, a chilling smile on his manga like visuals.

"Hey baby, I've been looking all over for you. What were you doing?" He asked in a concerning tone, face bearing down on hers rather uncomfortably.

"I- I was j-just giving San back this.." She stammered as she gestured to the jacket in her hand.

Letting out a barely audible scoff, Taeyong gripped the jacket, prying it off her delicate fingers before tossing it back to San.

"Thanks bud."

San glared at him, resisting the urge to throw a punch to his face. Seeing him unresponsive, Taeyong just shrugged and suspiciously wrapped an arm around Y/N.

"Come on babe. Let's go back home."

His fingers dug into her skin, applying very painful pressure to her bruise, an occasional whimper coming out of her mouth as they walked across the football field. San's jaw tightened as he watched Taeyong lean in and whispered something in her ear, no doubt some degrading words judging by the way she cowered beneath him.

"San just let it go." Yeosang's voice said.

"I can't Yeosang. Every time I see him even breathe near her.......I feel like combusting." He grunted in frustration as his friend tried to calm him down.

"Taeyong, please stop. It really hurts." Y/N cried out, her fingers prying his hand off her aching arm.

"Shut up you little bitch. How dare you go talk to that punk? Making me look bad and having me talk to that low life." He cringed in disgust.

"I was only thanking him for lending me-"

"So what? Were you going to lend yourself to him too? Is that what you were going over to him for?"

She instantly shook her head.

"What?! No!"

"Yeah right. I bet you already whored yourself out to him...didn't you?!"

Not caring that there was still people nearby, Taeyong harshly yanked her by her hair before tossing her onto the ground, catching the attention of everyone around, including San and Yeosang.

"Fucking whore." He spat at her.

"Don't." Yeosang held his hand out when he saw San taking a step forward.

"But I can't-"

Yeosang kept an arm around him to keep him in place.

"Don't get involved. You'll only make things worse."

San looked back at the scene, his heart breaking seeing Y/N once again on the floor, trembling like a frightened kitten who had no protection. When she looked up, he saw tears already brimming down her face.

"Get up. We're going home." Taeyong sternly commanded, turning to walk away as usual.

"No."

He stopped dead in his tracks at her refusal.

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Not knowing how or where she got the strength from, Y/N got up and faced him with determination.

"I've finally had enough."

Both San and Yeosang were shocked at hearing her words, one of them more incredulous than anything and the other proud of her for finally standing up for herself. Taeyong too was put out of sorts seeing her be so bold.

"Haha, real funny baby. Now let's go home." He walked closer to her, reaching out to yank her arm, but she slapped it away.

"No! I told you! I've had it! It's over!" She declared.

Sensing he was really losing his power and control over her, Taeyong lunged at her, fist held up in the air.

"Listen here you-"

Y/N covered her face, stepping back when he came close to her. She opened her eyes and uncovered herself when she felt someone suddenly step in front of her, their hand blocking Taeyong's fist from even approaching her.

"Stay out of this Choi." Taeyong grunted.

"She told you it's over Taeyong."

San easily pushed him away single handedly, making him stumble backwards.

"Now leave and never bother her again."

Not giving up yet, Taeyong looked back at Y/N menacingly.

"And do tell me Y/N? If it's over, where are you going to live now?" He taunted her.

Realizing he was right, she almost felt defeated until San spoke up again.

"She's going to live with me." He firmly answered.

"I fucking knew it. You were being a whore with him."

Unable to hold himself back anymore, San swung hard, fist colliding with Taeyong's face, sending him falling down against the floor. Y/N covered her mouth as she gasped sharply when San picked Taeyong back up from his collar, shaking him fiercely.

"Call her that one more time! I dare you to!" He warned him as he got ready to take another swing.

"San stop!" He felt Yeosang intervene once again, holding his elbow with his hands.

"Yeosang! Just let me-"

"Stop for Y/N's sake, she's already seen and lived enough violence, I really don't think she needs to see any more." Yeosang tilted his head to the Y/N who had already began backing as far away as possible.

Realizing his friend was right, San begrudgingly let go of his most hated rival.

"Try to come near her again and I will end you."

With those final words, he went over to where Y/N was, his face softening up when he looked at her. He held out his hand to her and waited for her response. He felt happy when she finally reached out and allowed him to guide her out to the parking lot, and thankful that he decided to park somewhere where there weren't a lot of people.

"You all right?" He finally spoke up when they were finally inside his truck

"Uh...yeah...actually...I'm fine.... can you believe I actually did it?"

Although she sounded enthusiastic, he heard the crack in her voice and her nervous laughter wasn't helping her case. Instead of turning the car on, he shifted to his right to look at her. He watched as the smile left her face, her fidgeting hands suddenly shake uncontrollably and her laughter suddenly turned to her hyperventilating. Knowing what was happening, San immediately pulled her into an embrace for the very first time in his life, holding her tightly, hands running through her hair as she began breaking down, sobbing violently, finally releasing all the pent up pain and suffering she had been bottling up for years.

San himself wanted to cry, but he didn't for her sake. He just let her cry her eyes out. It took a little over 10 minutes, but finally she started to calm down.

"Thank you....for everything."

Kissing her forehead, he poked her nose and smiled at her.

"Don't mention it. Let's get you somewhere warm now."

He made sure to play soothing music for her on the ride to his house. He noticed how once again she was drifting off to sleep and simply allowed her rest, knowing she was probably exhausted not only from crying so much but also from standing up to her abusive ex boyfriend moments ago. That certainly took a lot of energy and strength from her part and he was proud of her.

It was already dark when they got home, the brooding and cloudy day shortening the daylight and making it night at such an early hour. San gently picked up Y/N and got her out of the car, carrying her sleeping figure bridal style inside his house. It was small, but at least it was cozy and would be safe for her. Peeling back the covers from his bed, he carefully laid her down on it before tucking her in. When he made sure she'd be comfortable, he turned to leave the room, deciding it'd be better for him to sleep on the couch, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or have her freak out. He barely got to the door when he heard a tiny and hushed whisper of his name.

"San?"

He immediately looked over to see what she needed.

"Could.....could you please sleep by my side?.... I'd feel more safe that way..."

She didn't want to admit it right then, but it had been so long since she'd slept in someone's arms and she really craved physical affection from him. Happy to oblige, San went over and got into bed with her.

"Are you going to be ok if I wrap my arm around you?" He asked for permission first.

"Please just hold me." She begged as she cuddled up next to him, her face burying inside his chest.

He wasted no time in throwing his arm around her, his delicate fingers drawing soothing circles on her arm.

"Don't be afraid. You're safe now and you're going to be all right. I'm here and I'll protect you."

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

More than a year passed. It was a long and arduous process. At first Y/N didn't want to go through it, but San kept insisting she get therapy. After promising to accompany her and staying by her, she finally gave up and started seeing a psychologist. It wasn't easy, for neither of them. It was painful for her to finally speak up about all the abuse she endured for years and it was equally torturous for San to hear the rest of the untold story. It truly sickened him that one day he nearly busted Taeyong's face when he met him outside the school, but was ultimately held back once more by one of his friends. Besides his main priority was helping Y/N, helping her to properly function again and to bring a little more joy into her life, even going out to adopt a cat for her, naming her Byeol. She became their cute little baby, even if she was a total, well, cat at times and didn't want to cuddle.

"That's ok. I know a cat willing to cuddle me." Y/N chuckled.

San looked around confused.

"Wait! You got another cat? Where is- Oh! You meant me." He blushed hard when she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body next to his as she snuggled next to him on the couch.

San did not hope for and did not expect Y/N to ever return his feelings, he was satisfied with her just being out of that horrible situation and being able to help her. Never did he dream she'd ever accept to be his and especially not ever cross his mind that he'd ever be able to actually claim her as his own.

But here she was, looking so beautiful underneath his body, wearing nothing but his leather jacket as he rolled his hips against hers. His fingers were laced with hers as his lips pulled apart from hers so he could look at her.

"Fuck...you're so damn pretty."

He leaned back in to place open mouth kisses on her jaw that traveled down to her neck. Although he nibbled occasionally, he made sure not to leave any marks on her soft and delicate skin.

"San...." She breathed out heavily, her hands breaking from his grasp to run through his black hair, paying close attention to the faded green streaks near his bangs.

"Oh god- please repeat that a little more." He groaned, loving the way she called out his name with such lust.

One of his hands traveled down her sides to cup one of her thighs, lifting her leg so he could hit deeper inside her. Feeling him at a whole new angle had Y/N gripping his muscly arms, her panting now becoming more erratic as she began clenching around him.

"San-" She called out again.

He chuckled slightly, hips snapping up to thrust just a little harder in her.

"Go ahead beautiful. Cum all over me, I want to feel you."

Hearing his low and suddenly husky voice urging her on, she let out a tiny whimper, her legs wrapping around his waist, using it as leverage to ride out her high. Her nails raked themselves into his back, her body pressed as close as it could be against his.

"Oh my god!" He gasped out as he twitched inside of her, his cum coating her walls, leaving her feeling full and complete.

He collapsed on top of her, his labored breathing occasionally resulting in a little choke as he tried to compose himself. When he finally came to, he brushed his lips against her temple.

"I love you so much."

She smiled at him as he adjusted the jacket that enveloped her, a real genuine smile.

"I love you too Sannie."

Giving her a tiny peck, he began sliding the jacket off.

"Let's get you out of this. It's probably too hot to be wearing it anymore."

She huffed and pouted.

"Baby no. I love wearing it. It feels like it's hugging me." She grabbed it and wrapped it around her more tightly.

"You know what else wants to hug you? My arms. So take off the jacket and let me snuggle you love."

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı

[hanatiny]

[4:04] Heart Not Found

a/n // disclaimer: I’d like to make it clear that I neither condone nor endorse any of the behavior described in this fic. Each of the characters acknowledges that it is beyond unacceptable and unjustified; this is merely meant to be an experimental look at the psychological processes within a yandere’s mind. Furthermore, this work is purely fictional and I do not claim to personally know exactly how any of the ateez members behave.

a/n: If there’s anything potentially triggering that I have forgotten to list in the warnings, please let me know and I’ll fix my mistake asap!! thank you <3

pairing: yandere!San x genderneutral!reader x pianist!boyfriend!Hongjoong

genre: angst

word count: 2602

warnings: non-idol AU, murder, descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood and death, mentions of knives, San is highly obsessive in this, he threatens the reader but doesn’t actually hurt them, kidnapping, trespassing, swearing, I did my best to keep the violence as vague as possible

-----

It was around 3am and you had yet to return home, and to say San was unnerved about this fact would be a massive understatement.

It wasn’t unusual for you to get home when it was already dark outside but it was never after midnight, much less in the early morning hours it was approaching now.

San tapped his fingers against the glass of his window anxiously as he watched the streets below attentively. You had turned off your phone a while ago, or at least that was the conclusion he drew after he stopped getting a signal from the tracker he had secretly managed to install on your phone.

3:12... why weren't you home yet?

His jaw went tense when he finally caught sight of you a few excruciatingly long minutes later, and he absolutely fumed as he saw you holding hands with another man he had never seen before in his life- he paused.

He did recognize the man, as none other than the pianist Kim Hongjoong who had been gaining quite a bit of popularity in the recent months. Kim Hongjoong, who he had gone to high school with until the older dropped out to focus on his career instead.

San didn't care much for that though, because a pretty face and a talent like Hongjoong's didn't mean he could love and care for you like you deserved it.

San believed that only he could give you everything you needed and wanted, and everything beyond that. Which was exactly why he was seeing red, punching the wall next to himself angrily. It caused his knuckles to bleed from the force behind the action, but the rage he felt overshadowed his pain.

Why didn’t you realize you were destined to be his and his alone? That you shouldn’t go whoring yourself out to other men? That only he should be the one to hold you in his arms, the one to protect you from everyone and everything.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t feel his attraction to you, why you insisted on turning a blind eye to him and found him “weird.” That’s what he assumed to be the case, at the very least.

San loved you, why was that so damn difficult for you to understand?

His narrowed eyes flickered over to the knife resting on his bedside table, and he had it clutched tightly in his bleeding hand within the blink of an eye.

He darted down the stairs without a second thought, blinded by the rage he felt deep within himself.

Meanwhile, outside, you were hugging your boyfriend goodbye for the night. His dark eyes shone innocently as he kissed your nose affectionately, causing you to giggle while still having your hands intertwined.

“So I’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow for brunch, yeah?”

“Sounds good, Hongjoongie~ I’ll see you then.” You playfully blew him a kiss before he turned and walked off into the night, rounding the corner shortly after.

It was San’s time to strike, using your distracted state of mind to creep up behind you and tightly wrap an arm around your torso while he held the knife to your throat in warning.

You didn’t recognize his voice at first when he whispered into your ear, your brain much too clouded from the feeling of fear filling you, “If you make any sound at all, I’ll personally slit your throat and cut your vocal cords. You don’t want to lose an angelic voice such as yours, do you~?”

Realizing your situation was hopeless due to the unexpected amount of strength the man holding you possessed, you stopped trying to kick him and wrestle yourself free. This was the only answer he needed, starting to take slow and deliberate steps backwards from your house over to his. His hold on you remained tight, borderline suffocating even, just in case you would dare to get bold and try something.

He had left his door slightly ajar, kicking it shut behind him once he had finally brought you inside of his living space.

You still found yourself unable to figure out the identity of the man who had burst into your comfort zone out of nowhere but you didn’t want to find out what he was capable of doing to you if you attempted to resist whatever he was in the process of doing and pinpoint who he was, considering the amount of ease with which he snuck up and took hold of you just a few minutes ago.

Casually dropping his knife onto a nearby cupboard, he led you down the hallway of his house to a spacious bedroom. It was then a figurative lightbulb went off in your head and the fog clouding your mind cleared, upon seeing certain pieces of furniture he had placed in the room.

You had been here before. You had been in this house before when he had just moved in and his furniture was all over the place, he was the ���cute neighbor’ who had offered you some coffee and invited you over to ‘get to know each other a little.’ Now all you needed to do was remember his name- it clicked. You remembered.

His grip on you (probably purposely) loosening, you whirled around and took a few steps away from him. San didn’t seem all too fazed by it though, simply grinning knowingly at you and crossing his arms while you did your best to subtly gain proper awareness of your surroundings.

It seemed like he noticed, however, because that was when he finally spoke up again.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to recognize me, love. You know who I am, don’t you~?” His tone was so calm that it unsettled you to the point of having to avert your eyes, your head hanging low as you nodded hesitantly, hardly even noticing his use of the pet name.

“I knew it...~” San’s voice trailed off into a purr that you weren’t sure how to feel about, deciding that being wary was likely the smartest thing you could do in your current situation.

Too lost in thought, you didn’t realize he had stepped closer to you while you were internally debating with yourself, pleased that you seemed to remember what he said about speaking.

“Now, I have something to take care of for a little bit... I trust that you’ll be good and not leave this room.” Although a smile was painted on his features, it didn’t make his tone sound any less threatening. Not willing to find out what might happen if you didn’t react, you nodded once more.

“That’s my good dove~” All of it disgusted you - from the way he cooed at you, over the way his lips twitched upwards into a grin, to the way he looked at you like you were the only person in this twisted world.

You hated it and yet there you stood, in the middle of this sicko’s bedroom, frozen with uncertaintly and fear. You only scarcely resisted the urge to punch him in the face, watching closely as he left a few moments later and closed the door behind himself.

You heard him lock it as well, heaving a shaky sigh when you believed him to be out of earshot.

Your body shook with rage, how did he have the audacity to just kidnap you like that and walk away like he didn’t commit a goddamn felony? Your first instinct was to break something, and you figured that the window might be the first best thing - just in case it’d give you an opportunity to escape.

Looking around, you were quick to find a small hammer in a drawer. You swung it against the glass with every bit of force you could muster, only for the object in your hand to bounce back without leaving even so much as a crack. Dumbfounded by the fact that San had even reinforced his windows to keep you from leaving him, clearly having planned this for a while, you dropped the hammer next to you and sank to your knees.

You curled in on yourself, sobs wracking your body as you were forced to come to terms with the reality that you were trapped. Trapped in this room, trapped with your not-so-innocent-and-sweet neighbor.

Meanwhile, San’s steps were hurried as he sought out your boyfriend’s house, knife in hand while he occasionally glanced at his phone. It probably wasn’t very smart of Hongjoong to have his personal address publicized for fan mail purposes, considering how easily it could be exploited by people like San.

He should’ve been freezing out in the cold air at 3:35 in the very early morning, but the blood practically boiling in his veins kept him from being affected by it much. It was almost too easy for him to trespass onto the desired property when he finally reached it, breaking the lock on the door effortlessly with the blade of his knife.

Hongjoong had a habit of staying up as late as it was humanly possible, and it was rather common knowledge that he sometimes didn’t even sleep at all. As such, San was not the least bit surprised to faintly hear someone playing the piano when he stepped into the house as quietly as he could.

He followed the sound, eventually coming to a large room filled with a variety of instruments of different sizes. In the middle was, as San had to begrudgingly admit, a beautiful piano. Its seat was occupied by his very target, Hongjoong, who was aware of the younger man’s presence and let his fingers press against the black and white keys once more.

The sound the action produced was so disharmonious that it made San physically cringe as he stared the young pianist down, the latter of whom finally lifting his head with a deep, exasperated sigh.

“This is about y/n, isn’t it? I’ve noticed the way you look at-”

“You saw nothing! You know nothing! Do you have any fucking clue how painful it is to see the one you love with someone else, to not even have them spare you a single glance because of how little they care about you?” San was furious at this point, blinded by his rage, Hongjoong flinching and recoiling in his seat at the harsh tone employed by the other male as he continued, “I know you don’t. You were always the prodigy and excelled at what you did, got everything you wanted so easily... including the one thing I wanted too. I can’t live with that, and neither will you.”

“I-I didn’t- That’s not-” Hongjoong stammered, trying to defend himself before quickly realizing it was a futile endeavor when he saw San lunging at him with his knife clutched tightly in his hand. His reflexes were fast as he tried to reach for a nearby violin to whack the latter unconscious with but the crazed younger was, to his demise, much faster and pinned him to the surface of his piano while the keys beneath him produced another dissonant sound.

It didn’t exactly help that San was not only taller but also more muscular than Hongjoong, so the latter’s tries to wiggle and struggle free were for nothing. He groaned in pain as the wooden edges of his instrument forcefully dug into his skin; he clawed at it, but to no avail. He had no chance against San.

Despite knowing how hopeless it was for himself, Hongjoong refused to go down without a fight and proceeded kick and scream in San’s hold, “You’re making a huge m-mistake-”

His vision spun before going black, his pleas going silent while his body went limb. Everything stopped, except for San. He continued to stab and mutilate the older until he deemed it enough and was satisfied, stepping backwards after. He got what he came here for. Taking a quick picture with his phone to show to both you and the police what had taken place (although he’d come up with an alibi for the authorities, of course), he backtracked his steps and left the house as fast as his feet would take him.

Still under the safe and dark blanket of the night, he made his way back to his own house. Making sure to hide the bloody knife where no one would find it, he cleaned himself off briefly before he got an idea for how he could use the ‘souvenir’ he brought for you.

You jumped slightly in your spot on San’s bedroom, curled up and hiding your face behind your knees even now, when you heard him slam the front door shut which signalled you that he had returned from whatever he was out doing. You feared the worst as you listened carefully, presuming the noise he was making to be coming from his kitchen.

You looked up when the bedroom door clicked open and San entered, a smug and satisfied grin on his face as he moved to set a jar on the bedside table before crouching in front of you.

“I’m home, bunny. Did you miss me~?” His falsely innocent, sweet tone was still something you despised, although you felt genuine fear for what he could do to you simply by looking at the tiny smudge of blood lingering on his cheek, so you nodded obediently.

“Good. I just had to have a little chat with your pretty boy, and look what he gave me~!” San cheerfully nudged his head towards the bedside table, and the sight you were met with made you feel sick to your stomach.

What you assumed to be Hongjoong’s bloody heart. In a jar. You kept glancing back and forth between him and the object, gaping at him in both shock and disbelief of what he had done.

“What do you think of it, love? Pretty, isn’t it~? Go on, tell me.” He encouraged you softly, "You told him he had your heart right? Now you have his forever!” He chirped, and your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“Y-you monster!” You exclaimed, cursing yourself internally for your stuttering as you cursed at him, “You heartless bastard, you didn’t have to kill him!”

“I didn’t want to kill him,” he admitted softly, looking down as if he felt any sense of remorse for any of his actions within the last hour or so, “but he left me no choice. He refused to break up with you. He refused to let me love you without... all this.” He gestured vaguely, pulling out his phone to show you the photo he took, “He refused to let me have even one thing I wanted for myself, even though he always got whatever he wished for. Desperate times require desperate measures, I had no choice...”

San trailed off, your own face paling at the realization that Hongjoong had been murdered because of a petty rivalry of sorts from the past that San had yet to let go of.

Feeling lightheaded by the abundance of information swimming in your already aching head, you blacked out. When you came to your senses again, it appeared to be morning and San was making noise in another room.

Tears wet your face as you shakily reached for your phone, wishing you hadn’t because the very first notification you opened was a headline you had prayed wouldn’t be reality, accompanied by the very picture San had taken the previous night.

“Up and coming pianist Kim Hongjoong brutally murdered in his home last night; investigations still ongoing”

----- Taglist (tell me if you wanna be added):

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Network tag:

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[sincerelystranger]

read on AO3

---

Nie Huaisang fans his face nervously as Xichen watches quietly from across the room.

He’s not quite turned away from Xichen, but he doesn’t seem to be able to look at Xichen either. His eyes keep flickering back and forth from the wall behind Xichen to the floor.

Every single one of Huaisang’s actions seems to scream discomfort, maybe even fear. It occurs to Xichen that it’s strange behavior for someone who invited themselves over. It also occurs to him that at one point in his life, he wouldn’t even have noticed the behavior as strange.

At one point in Xichen’s life, he would have readily believed Huaisang’s act.

He doesn’t now.

He doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

And he thinks maybe that’s what hurts the most.

He thinks that maybe that inability to trust his own judgement is what keeps him locked in seclusion, torturing himself over the things he missed and the things he once believed.

Maybe.

He sits in silence, just watching Nie Huaisang. He’s not sure if he’s surprised by Nie Huaisang’s visit, or if a part of him expected him all this time. The only thing he knows is this:

Nie Huaisang somehow looks altogether too much and not enough like da-ge and Xichen can’t tell whether he hates him for that or not.

Nie Huaisang clears his throat suddenly, the sound is almost deafening in the heavy silence of Xichen’s room.

“Ah… You look… well, er-ge,” he says weakly, still not meeting Xichen’s eyes, “Wei-Xiong made it seem as if… well…” He trails off, briefly making eye contact with Xichen before dropping his gaze back to the floor.

Xichen isn’t surprised by the mention of Wei Wuxian.  

Of course Wei Wuxian would have something to do with this. Of course.

“Wei-Xiong said that you weren’t well – that you didn’t want visitors… I mean… of course… you’re still in seclusion…” Nie Huaisang stumbles over his words. Xichen can see his hand shaking slightly as he continues to fan his face.

That does surprise him though – the fact that Wei Wuxian advised against Nie Huaisang visiting Xichen.

With how nosy Wei Wuxian has been throughout Xichen’s time in seclusion, he would have thought that Wei Wuxian had had a hand in Nie Huaisang’s visit.

“Wei Wuxian advised against your visit?” Xichen asks, curiosity opening his mouth.

Nie Huaisang seems surprised by Xichen’s voice. The fan goes still in his hands. “He… did,” he nods, “Wei-Xiong… He… Well I don’t think he trusts me… anymore.” There’s a small self-deprecating smile on his face as he admits this. He looks to the ground again before slowly bringing his gaze up to meet Xichen’s eyes. He gives Xichen a weak smile. “I guess you don’t either, do you, er-ge?”

Xichen guesses he should have expected it, but it still catches him off-guard to be confronted so openly.

Somehow it seems… out of character for Huaisang.

But then…

What does Xichen know of Huaisang’s character anyway?

“I… I just don’t know why you did what you did,” Xichen admits. And it’s the closest thing to the truth that he can stomach to say. Because… because even after everything. Even after the manipulation and betrayal and years of being lied to. He still…

Well he’s still Nie Huaisang’s er-ge, isn’t he?

It’s one of the only things he’s been able to come to terms with in his time in seclusion: The people Xichen loves may do monstrous things, but Xichen will love them anyway. He can’t help himself. Once he loves, he doesn’t know how to stop.

Nie Huaisang is quiet for a while. He slowly lowers his fan to his lap. He looks more vulnerable, sat there without the fan covering part of his face.

Even after everything, it makes Xichen’s heart ache for him. Even after everything, Xichen wants to call him close, ask him how he can help wipe that sadness from his face.

He doesn’t though.

He stays quiet.

“It’s already been eight years since da-ge died,” Huaisang says slowly, “Next year, I’ll be older than he ever got to be.”

Logically it’s something Xichen has known for a while. He’s been older than da-ge for years now. But it still churns his stomach to hear those words come out of Huaisang’s lips. To be hit with the realization that da-ge has truly been dead for so long. It seems… so impossible. Da-ge is still so fresh in Xichen’s memory.

“It’s strange,” Huaisang continues quietly, “In my memory da-ge is always so much older than me. Always such an… adult. When father died and da-ge became the sect leader, I remember thinking, ‘of course.’ Because da-ge already seemed so grown up at the time. So sure of himself.” Huaisang wipes absently at the floor and huffs a small laugh. “Now I wonder how the elders could have been so cruel as to put all that responsibility onto such a young boy.”

A lump forms in Xichen’s throat.

“Da-ge was always… good,” Xichen says stupidly, “He never shied from responsibility… he always gave everything his… best.”

Nie Huaisang huffs another small laugh. “Da-ge was always good,” he agrees. “If the world could have been as good as he was – if I could have been as good as he was – everything might be different now.”

The room goes quiet again at Huaisang’s small confession.

Xichen can’t find it in himself to disagree or to comfort, because he thinks the same. Maybe if he could have been as good as da-ge, everything might’ve ended differently. Maybe if Xichen hadn’t questioned da-ge’s judgement… Maybe if Xichen had just trusted da-ge…

Maybe…

“He… loved you er-ge. Did you know?”

“Of course,” Xichen answers, a little taken aback by Huaisang’s question.

“No,” Huaisang says with a shake of his head. “He loved you… as a man. Did you know?”

The center of gravity seems to have changed in the room. Xichen feels… tilted. Unmoored.

“He – da-ge… he didn’t,” Xichen tries to explain slowly, a slow panic crawling up his spine. Da-ge didn’t – he couldn’t. Da-ge never saw Xichen like that…

Never…

“He did,” Huaisang says, something stubborn bleeding into his voice.

Xichen shakes his head. He doesn’t know where Huaisang got this idea but…

“He didn’t, Huaisang,” Xichen says, “I… I…” It’s humiliating to have to own to it. How does Huaisang always manage to put him into this situations? Situations where he has to cut his heart open with his own hand. “I confessed to him when we were… younger.”

Da-ge had been kind when he refused Xichen.

His hand had been gentle and warm on Xichen’s shoulder and his eyes had been deep and kind. “I can’t be that for you. I’m sorry.”

But he still stayed Xichen’s friend.

Still stayed Xichen’s… da-ge.

“He refused you because he thought….” Huaisang stammers, “He… he said…”

Xichen’s heart drops to his stomach. Something cold makes its way towards his chest. He said? Da-ge had… He had talked about Xichen’s confession to Huaisang?

“What,” Xichen asks, a nervous hunger gnawing at his throat. “What did da-ge say?”

“He said you deserved better than a man destined for madness,” Huaisang says finally.

It feels like a cruel joke.

Another manufactured cruelty from Huaisang. Another upturned grave that Xichen will have to cover with his hands.

“You… Don’t lie to me, Huaisang,” Xichen says, and he’s ashamed by the way his voice trembles. “Da-ge… He never…”

“He was always doing these foolish things,” Huaisang says, his voice cracking, as tears spill from his eyes. “Always giving up parts of his happiness for the people he loved.”

A sob escapes from Xichen’s lips. He hurries to cover his mouth so more don’t shamefully spill out but it’s no use. Da-ge couldn’t… He…

But of course he would.

“He did it for me too,” Huaisang continues, his lips trembling, his whole body taut as he tries to control his sobs. “And I didn’t know either, er-ge. I never realized until it was too late. All the things—“ Huaisang folds in on himself, his hand coming up to cover his eyes as he cries. “—All the things he gave up for me. All the things he turned a blind eye to because he knew I loved them.”

The room dissolves into quiet sobs.

And it’s a little funny, Xichen thinks, even though Huaisang is tearing out the seams in Xichen’s heart that Xichen just barely put in. Even though Huaisang has brought with him so much hurt and anger and confusion. It’s still… comforting to cry with someone who Xichen knows misses da-ge as much as Xichen does. There’s still a twisted sense of camaraderie there.

When the wave passes and the sobs quiet, Huaisang straightens back up. He wipes gingerly at his face with his sleeve. Xichen is reminded of all the times he watched Huaisang do the same action when he was just a child. Da-ge would have reprimanded him, Xichen thinks. Da-ge would have tossed Huaisang his handkerchief.

Because as wild and brutish as da-ge was reputed to be… he was… proper like that. Gentler than anyone imagined he could ever be.

That was one of the things Xichen had loved about him.

Huaisang lets out a shaky exhale. He’s twisting his sleeves between his fingers nervously. Even now, it seems impossible to Xichen that Huaisang – sweet and spoiled Huaisang – could have lied to him for so long. It seems impossible that the Huaisang he knows – the Huaisang sitting in front of him – could have orchestrated the downfall of Mengyao.

It seems impossible, and yet…

“You say that you don’t know why I did the things I did,” Huaisang says, his voice soft and scratchy from his tears, “And if I’m honest, I didn’t understand myself either.” He looks up and Xichen then and gives a helpless shrug. “It’s so unlike me. Right, er-ge? All this planning and scheming and… and just all this work to destroy someone I love. It was torturous for me – it really was, er-ge. But...”

Xichen doesn’t move. He doesn’t make a sound. It feels like he’s at the edge of a cliff. What Huaisang says next will most certainly push him over but he’s still waiting… He doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“I think… I think I was punishing myself,” Huaisang says, “I think I was punishing myself for loving san-ge – for letting my love blind me to his evil deeds.”

Xichen’s heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. He feels slightly nauseous.

Huaisang drops his gaze from Xichen’s eyes to the ground just in front of Xichen. “And for what I did to you at Guanyin Temple… I… I think in a way… I wanted to punish you too.”

He’s falling. He’s been pushed off the cliff and he’s falling.

It’s a lot more freeing than he thought it would be. It almost feels like flying.

Punishment.

Was that all it was?

All this confusion and loss and pain and confusion and loss and loss and pain…

Just punishment?

A strange laughter bubbles from Xichen’s lips before he can even control it.

“Sorry,” he says, quickly bringing his hand to cover his mouth. Shamefully enough, the laughter spills over again. “Sorry.” But it’s not enough. The laughter forces itself out of his body. He can’t help himself. He feels insane, but he’s laughing and it won’t stop. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m so—”

Xichen can almost feel Huaisang’s surprise but he can’t help himself. The laughter won’t stop. And strangely, after a few moments of his unhinged laughter, he hears…

He looks up, his vision clouded slightly by the strange tears his strange laughter has created and to his surprise… Huaisang is laughing too.

Seeing Huaisang laugh plants more seeds of laughter in Xichen. He can’t stop now – even if he tried. The laughter bubbles over. Huaisang’s laughter waters Xichen’s laughter and it grows and grows and…

Punishment.

That was all it was.

All this pain and loss and confusion and it was just… punishment.

How ridiculous.

---

The night of Huaisang’s visit, Xichen steps outside for the first time since he started his seclusion.

In the dark of night, the world seems all at once strange and inviting.

Cloud Recesses, of course, is quiet. All the disciples having gone to sleep long ago.

Xichen feels safer, with that knowledge that he’s alone. That he won’t run into anyone who—

“Xichen-ge!” a voice surprises him from his thoughts. He turns towards the voice and sees Wei Wuxian and…. Wangji.

Wei Wuxian visits him often enough that it shouldn’t be such a surprise to see him, but it feels different seeing him outside the confines of his room. Xichen feels self-conscious suddenly. Like his arms are too long and maybe his hair is untidy.

“Wei… gongzi,” he nods after a shocked moment, “Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian waves him over as Wangji nods back. “We’re taking a walk,” Wei Wuxian exclaims, “The night is cool and the stars are bright. Come join us, Xichen-ge!”

It’s all so ridiculous, Xichen thinks as he takes a heavy step forward, out of the gate and towards the path.

How ridiculously easy it is to leave the jail he created for himself. How ridiculously normal it feels for Wei Wuxian to ask him to join him on a night walk – as if Xichen hasn’t trapped himself between four walls for years.

Wei Wuxian and Wangji separate to make room for him. It’s a small act of kindness, Xichen realizes, and he takes it because it does feel a little safer to walk between them.

Such a childishness, he thinks, still too bare to the world to feel any embarrassment from it. But he does feel safe. Wangji feels… taller… and sturdier than Xichen remembers him being. And Wei Wuxian… Well is there anyone more reliable to walk the dark night with than Wei Wuxian?  

“Look!” Wei Wuxian says, pointing up at the sky. “Isn’t the moon beautiful tonight?”

Xichen follows Wei Wuxian’s finger up.

The moon is round and heavy. It looks so close that it feels like Xichen might be able to touch it if he just reaches up.

“It’s beautiful,” he agrees softly.

“It’s like it knew you would come out to see it today, Xichen-ge,” Wei Wuxian nods happily. “Don’t you think so, Lan Zhan?”

Wangji hums his agreement as they keep walking.

Happiness sits hot and heavy in Xichen’s chest. He feels safe and free and…

“I think we’ve had enough punishment,” Huaisang had said before he left. “You and… me too, er-ge.” He had looked at Xichen then and had given him a smile – a real smile. No hint of sadness in his face at all. “Da-ge always wanted the people he loved to be happy… so I think it’s time to do that. Don’t you think so, er-ge?”

He hadn’t answered Huaisang as he left but he agrees quietly in his heart now.

He’s lost and lost and lost and he’s sat in that loss for years. Yearning and searching and looking for an answer that wasn’t there – ignoring the world outside his room for years and choosing punishment day after day because… because maybe he thought he deserved it.

And still…

The moon is beautiful.

And still, his family welcomes him back.

[knchins]

Manager’s Special - Seijoh 4

Summary: Being the manager of Seijoh University's boy's volleyball team meant filling their every need. But can you satisfy all four seniors at the same time or will you break trying?

Pairing: Oikawa x Fem!Reader x Iwa x Mattsun x Makki

Rating: E+

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings:  Degradation/Humiliation, Oral sex (giving/receiving), Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Triple? Penetration (I technically don't view this as triple but some might), Squirting, Vaginal/Anal fingering, Unprotected sex, Gangbang (obvs), Blindfold usage, Spit (just a little), A smidgen of dubcon if you squint, Overstimulation, Mindbreak??, Aftercare, and Oikawa being a total Asshole

Notes: This is completely self indulgent and I don’t apologize for it one bit.

 Since earning the head manager position of Seijoh University’s boys volleyball team, you had learned to keep a tight schedule. It could be very hard work at times, but honestly it was very rewarding and the experience was worth the late nights and early mornings. It was an honored title that many girls strived for year after year. You had been merely an assistant your first two years of college and now, finally, your tenacity had paid off. You were number one and with it you held a whole new set of responsibilities.

 Because while you did the duties of a normal manager, at Aoba Johsai, female managers also held a very...important role. They were in charge of making sure all of the senior players kept their head in the game and stayed at the pique of physical fitness. This meant that you were in charge of making sure all of their needs were met.

 Every. Single. One.

 And you had quickly found that the four seniors you were in charge of satiating this year were particularly hungry for one thing and one thing only. You.

 Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa all had their own unique interests and tastes. They fought for your affection, sometimes making you feel pulled into four different directions at once. It got so bad that they had to roll die to see who could have you first. There were prime time slots in your schedule, after all, and everyone wanted to be the one to hold it. Weekends were especially cut throat among them and it was finally decided on an even rotation. Oikawa, since he was the captain, got the first weekend. Mattsun was second. Iwaizumi third, and lastly Hanamaki. You never had a moment to yourself it seemed like. The core four took up the entirety of your free time.

 But you knew what the job demands were before you took it. You agreed to this. If only you had known how draining it would be. You couldn’t have imagined the sexual appetites of athletes being this overwhelming. If only there was time to recuperate. Time and time again they worked you to tears. Multiple times a week you’d be left overstimulated and so incredibly full of cum. But none of that could have prepared you for what they had in mind for this particular Saturday.

 Makki was supposed to come over to your apartment alone that evening. You had the scene set the way you knew he liked it. Lights dim with a plethora of candles scattered across the bedroom. There was chilled sparkling water set on the bedside and a new bottle of lube. You had taken time to shower, scrubbing every inch of you clean for him. After drying yourself off, fixing your hair and putting on light natural looking makeup, you stepped into a nice little sheer white baby-doll nightie with nothing but a sea foam green thong underneath.

 After a look-over in your floor length mirror, you smiled with satisfaction. Makki was the gentlest of the four and usually he pampered a little more afterwards. It was the only time you get any semblance of rest. Maybe you could convince him to go easy on you too. Take things slow. He was the easiest to reason with and you had been looking forward to this all week.

 There was a knock at your front door and immediately you were thrown off. Each player had a unique knock to them, and what you just heard wasn’t Makki’s. It was the captain’s. Holding back a groan you padded to the door and looked through the peephole, seeing all four seniors gathered in the hallway.

 Confusion washed over you as you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. Oikawa looked particularly proud of himself, something that had your thighs clenching out of sheer habit. “Oikawa-san? Did something happen?”

 Iwaizumi forced the door open, making you take a step back as all four men walked in, putting down their things in the entryway before Hanamaki closed the door. They deposited their shoes at the doorway before Oikawa gave you some sort of answer. “I hate to do this to you, Cutie, I really do, but there’s something your Captain wants you to do for him.”

 His eyes scoured every inch of your body, making you suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. His tongue swiped over his lips, his facial expression absolutely predatory. Your cunt was already aching at the thought of him pounding into you. “W-What is it?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

 Oikawa began to circle around you as you noticed the others begin to slip off their shirts. You swallowed thickly, unable to look away from the sheer amount of tone muscle present before you now. You began to chew on your bottom lip, the taste of your lip gloss crawling onto your tongue. “We decided that we all want a turn with you tonight.” He said, stopping behind you and putting his hands on your hips. He pulled you back to him and you could feel his half-hard cock rutting into your ass as he leaned to speak in your ear. “They don’t think you can handle it, but I can.”

 He pressed a kiss just under your ear, teeth grazing the skin there as you felt the flimsy fabric of the thong dampen with your arousal. All four of them? At once? Your head span as you tried to conceive it, but the captain’s cock grinding into your ass was almost too distracting. He knew exactly what he was doing and you hated him for it. “I don’t think I- Ah!” He bit at your pulse point and you felt her knees begin to tremble from the sheer anticipation of him being inside you.

 One of his beautiful hands moved to push up the lightweight fabric of the baby-doll, his index finger finding your clit expertly and pressing into you with just the right amount of force that had you keening back against him. “Don’t you want to prove them right, my little manager? What happened to all of that ambition?”

 Three pairs of eyes were devouring you as Oikawa continued to press kisses into your throat. They all looked so starving. So      needy    . Who were you to deny your team? Your body was for their taking, that was what you had wanted since you were a freshman right? And now, with Oikawa’s fingers working over your swelling clit, mouth taking claim to your neck, you have no drive to tell them no. There was no chance of you resisting them. You sank into Oikawa’s hold and he knew instantly that you were admitting defeat. You’d take on all four of them, even if it broke you.

 Oikawa dragged you into the bedroom, his right hand never leaving its spot between your legs. When he finally released you, he pushed you gently onto the bed so that he could take off his shirt. The other three came into the room, Makki had already stepped out of his pants and as in nothing but his socks and boxer briefs.

 You turned onto your back, looking absolutely doe-eyed at the large men before you. Again you kept your legs pressed together, rubbing slightly to try and create some kind of friction that would lighten the ache in your core. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Iwa pull something out of your top drawer, and again you swallowed as you knew there could only be one thing he’d be looking for in there. The black silk blindfold you kept stashed away.

 “Hajime, please,” You cooed softly, feeling fear bubble in your abdomen at being blinded. He ignored your quiet plea, knowing that there wasn’t nearly enough fight behind it to be an actual revocation of consent. He came closer to you, making it easier for you to see the outline of his erection in his pants as he covered your eyes with the cloth and tied it around the back of your head.

 “Good thinking, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chirped as he took off his pants. “Let’s play a game then, shall we, Manager-san?” He asked, glancing at the other guys. “If you can guess whose dick is in your pretty little mouth then you can get a reward. How does that sound?”

 His irritating voice did nothing but ignite your desires even further. You were pretty certain you knew each of them well enough by now to be able to tell the difference between the four. Besides, Oikawa always held to his word and rewards with him often meant a very intense orgasm.

 You felt a hand grab you by the shoulder and by the softness of it, you assumed it was Oikawa’s. His hands were always the most meticulously kept out of all of them. He forced you to your knees and your mouth opened as you presented your tongue to whoever was first in line.

 Mattsun decided to take initiative, his cock already out as he stroked it. He stepped up to you, guiding the tip into your warm, beckoning mouth. He clenched his teeth together to keep from making any sort of sound that may give him away. Although, he already had a disadvantage. Mattsun was the biggest lengthwise and second only to Iwa when it came to girth.

 He was unable to stop himself from sliding as much in as he possibly could, his tip rubbing the back of your throat as his hand pressed onto the top of your head. His hips rocked slowly, pulling him out a fraction before rutting back in. You swirled your tongue around him, suckling lightly (though it was enough to finally pull a groan from him). You were about to reach up and grab onto his scrotum when Oikawa stopped you. “No touching, Cutie.” He chided and you put your hand back down.

 After a minute of you attempting to work him over without the help of your hands, he pulled from you completely. Oikawa asked you who it was as you were unable to stop yourself from coughing with newfound freedom. After you had collected yourself, you finally answered him with a small smile. “Issei.” You said happily, knowing you were right.

 “Good job.” Mattsun breathed out as he stroked his length to keep it from going soft. “Maybe that was too easy for you, doll.” You shook your head, trying to deny that it wasn’t easy for you to figure it out. None of them believed you.

 The next cock to enter your mouth was slimmer and you quickly narrowed it down to either Makki or Oikawa. They were almost identical, though there was one difference that would give it away. One of them had a small scar at the base of their penis where they had a shaving accident in high school.

 You greedily took him in, drool spilling over your lips and down your chin as your tongue searched every centimeter for the small white line of tissue. You tried to mask what you were doing by sucking and moaning at the small thrusts, the pubic hair at the base ticking your nose as he forced his tip to your throat. He suddenly pulled out, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself any longer if he didn’t. “Takahiro.” You said before Oikawa could ask.

 Makki let out a small laugh. “I guess you know me too well, huh?” He asked, not expecting you to actually answer. You smiled, reaching up to rid your chin of the spit that had made its way down it. Though you were somewhat positive that it would be replaced very quickly.

 “Alright, princess, so no one gets left out you’ll do Iwa-chan and I at the same time.” Oikawa said and a small frown formed on your lips. There was no way      both     of them would fit inside of your mouth. How were you supposed to do this without your hands?

 Iwa huffed, obviously not wanting to share your mouth with his best friend but nevertheless not objecting to it. They both stepped before you. “Can I at least use my hands this time, Captain?” You asked, head tilted upwards as if you were looking up at them.

 “Yes, you can use your hands this time.” Oikawa said back, placing a delicate hand on top of your head to rub it soothingly. You were doing such a good job for him and he was making note to make sure you knew that next time you were alone together.

 Again you opened your mouth wide. Oikawa nodded to Iwa who gave a shallow thrust into your mouth. Your hand searched up the leg of the person to your left, finding the shaft of his penis and stroking it. The telltale ribbing of a small scar at the base of it. The same scar you had been searching for when you were blowing Hanamaki. Not only that but Iwa’s girth gave him away. Oikawa was slender and pretty, Iwa was thick and veiny. Telling the two apart was almost like night and day.

 You bobbed your head, keeping the same pace with your hand giving them both a moment to enjoy the sensation before switching sides. You kept one hand on the base of each cock, making it easier to switch quickly between the two. When you had finally set what you thought was the perfect rhythm, a steady hand stopped you. “Who is who?” Oikawa asked in a chipper voice, never one to be upset when his dick was getting serviced.

 “Tooru-kun, you’re on the left.” You said, “Hajime is on the right.”

 Oikawa chuckled, “Wow, what a good little manager you are. You know us all so well. Are you ready for your reward?” You nodded your head enthusiastically. “Alright, get up and lay back on the bed we’re going to take good care of you.

 He grabbed your hand, helping you to your feet and guiding you to the bed where you laid down. He wasted no time in reaching up and grabbing the thin elastic of your thing and sliding it down your legs, enjoying the sight of the middle sticking to your slick folds for a moment before pulling free.

 Mattsun took position to your right, Makki your left, and Iwa was hovering over you, grabbing either of your thighs and spreading them. His calloused hands felt like a stark contrast from Oikawa’s, a feeling that made you shiver and clench around nothing. The blindfold was taken from your eyes at once by Makki.

 Tooru lowered his face to your core, giving you a nice slow cat lick up your slit that had you quaking in Iwa’s grasp. Mattsun forced the top of your babydoll down, freeing your breasts from the see-through material. He ran a thumb over your right nipple while Makki began to kiss along the swell of your left breast.

 Your brain was in overdrive at all the different sensations going on. Oikawa’s tongue pressing into your folds, Iwa’s mouth peppering kisses along your thighs as he held them apart. Matsukawa’s fingers massaging your breast firmly while Hanamaki is sucking hickies into your other one. There was just too much going on, you felt like you were going to short circuit already. Every inch of you was quivering with delight.

 Oikawa latched onto your clit like a leech, sucking so roughly that he pulled a loud moan straight from your throat. Your hips bucked, kegels flexing as you nearly creamed then and there. Iwa bit into your thigh, the pain ripping through your leg. You cried out, trying to squirm out of his grasp but it was of no use. He was stronger than you by a long shot and there was no way you could possibly overpower all four of them at once.

 “T-Toru p-p-p-please!” You cried, tears filling your eyes as Mattsun’s mouth replaced his hand. You just needed something, anything, inside you. You didn’t really care what at this point.

 He removed his mouth from you, a lewd popping sound came as a result. He knew exactly what you wanted, a lecherous smile on his wet lips. “You gonna beg me princess?”

 Your reply came in a whimper, Mattsun’s teeth grazed one nipple as Makki was sucking on your other one, tongue swirling as if he were attacking your clit instead. “I-I need yo-you inside.” You pleaded with him, the desperate need to have your pussy filled growing even more. “Your fin-fingers. Ah!” You tossed your head back as Iwa licked at your clit now. It was hard to concentrate on anything, especially getting the words you wanted out.

 Oikawa was extremely proud of the sight before him. Iwa’s sideways position gave him enough room to slip in two fingers into your throbbing cunt, The long, slender digits going in gently and deeply. “My, my, Manager-san. My fingers are waterlogged in this cute pussy of yours. Are you that desperate to get off?”

 You were unable to respond, too busy concentrating on grinding your hips against Hajime’s mouth and his fingers at the same time. Oikawa pulled his fingers out before inserting them back in, they slid with ease due to the amount of slick that had accumulated between your legs. Your eyes were rolling back, body jerking beneath the three boys that were hovering over you. All coherent thoughts were gone as the team captain because to thoroughly fuck you with his fingers, his vice captain’s tongue tracing fast shapes around your sensitive clit. That along with the two mouths on your chest had you crying and cumming in no time at all.

 Oikawa pulled his soaked fingers from you, inserting them into his mouth to clean them off with his tongue. He savored the taste of your cum, giving a small hum of appreciation at both the taste and the sight of you panting and teary-eyed. “Is our little cum dumpster okay? We haven’t even filled you up yet.”

 The sarcasm of his voice and sudden removal of Iwaizumi’s grip had your legs slamming shut, not wanting anyone to see how turned on you still were. How much you still needed them to satisfy you. The slutty desperation making your heart pound even harder within your chest. How much more of this relentless teasing could you take before breaking completely? You had no idea. “Fill...Fill me up, Captain.” You said between heavy breaths, eyes glossy with saline and want.

 He laughed, “Makki, tonight is supposed to be your night. You can choose what order we go in.” At least Oikawa could be fair when it came to his teammates. Too bad he wasn’t when it came to you.

 Hanamaki thought about it for a moment. “We should switch halves. Mattsun and I will fuck her while you two can have her hands and mouth.” He brushed your hair back, a small smile on his face. “I know she can take it.”

 He maneuvered himself so he was laying next to you so you could climb on top of him. Your teeth sank into your lip again as you positioned his tip at your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. You couldn’t stop the moan from seeping out between your lips in the process of finally feeling completed. Makki pulled you down by your arm so your chest was against his.

 You hadn’t noticed Mattsun get up and grab the bottle of lube. He generously coated two fingers as he got behind you. He watched as Makki’s dick spread your lips apart, his dick disappearing inside of you in slow shallow thrusts. His own cock was throbbing painfully at this point, begging for release.

 Instead of touching himself, he inserted his two fingers into your ass. You let out a hiss of pain, the muscles burning at the sudden stretch. Hanamaki was whispering sweet things into your ear to help distract you, telling you how good you were doing for him. How amazing your soft pussy felt wrapped around him so tightly while Iwa was positioning himself at your head, stroking his cock is a slow languid motion.

 Oikawa had grabbed his phone and was now recording. He enjoyed nothing better than humiliating you by filming you in compromising positions. Most of the nights alone with him involved some sort of video equipment. Despite being hard and dripping precum onto your carpet, he seemed to totally ignore his erection and focus only on getting the perfect shot of you pleasuring his team.

 Mattsun continued to prep your ass, feeling your muscles beginning to relax around him. Makki kept his rhythm light, not wanting to jostle you around too much while his friend was getting you ready. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as you whimpered. He was being so gentle, too gentle. That wasn’t what you wanted. You were craving Mattsun’s brute force, the little whimpers coming from you only proving how ready you were.

 “Don’t leave her waiting, Mattsun.” Oikawa said. “She wants you to fuck her ass, can’t you see how much she needs it? Little cumslut can’t get off to just Makki treating her like a princess”

 Mattsun tutted, removing his fingers so that he could lube up his cock. Again he watched you take in every inch of Hanamaki like such a good little girl. He spit on your ass, letting it slide down your crack as he pressed his tip into your anus. Hanamaki was still as his friend pushed into you, leaving delicate kisses along your jawline.

 He let out a loud groan as his balls came into contact with your perineum. You fluttered around both of them, taking the moment to adjust to having two dicks inside of you instead of just one. And Mattsun was so big you thought he might rip you apart.

 Iwa was growing impatient, he pressed his tip against your lips and your tongue darted out to taste his precum. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as you opened her mouth fully for him. Makki and Mattsun still weren’t moving yet, simply enjoying the feeling of your body heat warming up their cocks.

 You tried to move your hips to feel something, anything. The neediness growing ever wilder within you. Oikawa watched with great delight, enjoying the muffled torture sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked on Iwa’s dick. “You want them to move, sweetheart?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice that was definitely anything but sincere.

 You whined loudly, despite your mouth being full. You attempted to nod your head but it was slight due to not wanting to hurt Iwa by accident though your teeth did graze him and he gave a warning tug on your locks. You looked up at him with an apologetic expression, gargling out a sorry that wasn’t really comprehensible.

 “You heard her, Matsukawa.” Makki said, his once sweet voice going sly. “She wants us to move.”

 Mattsun laughed darkly as he pulled back slowly before jerking his hips forward, roughly slapping into you. Searing heat and pain caused tears to once again spring to your eyes as Hanamaki began to move in sync with him with an almost equal amount of force. It took a moment for them to stop fumbling awkwardly with one another, trying to find a going pace that worked to both of their advantages. Once they found it though, it was nothing but bliss. Both your pussy and ass being fucked simultaneously while your mouth was stuff full had your eyes rolling back and drool slipping down your chin again.

 “Fuck it’s so tight.” Mattsun moaned, smacking your ass with a harsh slap before rubbing the area. “Why have you never let me fuck your ass before? You’ll be lucky if I ever use that used up pussy again.” He growled at you, making the welling tears finally fall down your face. They dripped down onto Makki, though he didn’t mind much at all.

 Iwa was forcing more and more of himself down your throat, gagging and choking you in the process until you could barely breathe. He was taking the liberty to fuck your mouth, allowing you to simply be another hole for his pleasure instead of an active participate in getting him off.

 Oikawa grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his dick. He knew you wouldn’t be able to stroke him due to your fucked out state of stupidity. He moved your hand for you, keeping it steady as he bounced his hips against your grip. “I get that ass next.” He said, “Iwa-chan, you can have Makki’s hole. I want her so full of cum that she won’t stop leaking for a week.”

 Makki increased his pace, forcing Mattsun to do so as well. The two dicks rubbing inside of you have a fast knot tightening in your lower abdomen. The thing that finally did you over was Makki reaching between the two of you and teasing your clit with the pads of his fingers. You were screaming around Iwa, eyes shut tight as you came for a second time, both holes spasming around your partners, pulling moans from them as you sucked them in more. It was enough to drive Makki to his peak as well, releasing inside of your cunt while Mattsun thrusted wildly, the sounds of his balls slapping against you was the loudest thing in the room at the moment. It only ceased when he finally came, pumping your ass so full of semen that it seeped out around his base.

 Iwa pulled his dick from your mouth and throat, allowing you to gasp and sob. You were already so incredibly overstimulated, you couldn’t imagine having to go yet another round. But you knew your captain and vice captain wanted to get off too. Oikawa’s dream of making you the sluttiest little cum dumpster in all of Japan was quickly coming true.

 Mattsun pulled out of you, enjoying the view one last time before stepping back and disappearing into the bathroom to clean up. Iwa moved to the side, ready to fuck you senseless again with growing impatience. Makki took one last breath, gave you one last sweet kiss, before slipping out from under you.

 Oikawa handed his phone to Makki so he could continue to film while he positioned himself under you. With Iwa’s help he had you sitting up and turned around so that your back was to him. “I think Mattsun lubed you up enough, Manager-san, don’t you think?” He asked, tip probing your dripping ass before suddenly dipping into you without warning. You cried out, almost not believing just how easily he slid right in. Since he was a bit smaller than Mattsun, it didn’t hurt at all for him to be inside all at once. The former had stretched you out too thoroughly.

 Iwa also wasted zero time in plugging you up, stopping anymore of Makki’s cum from escaping you. You were still crying and shaking, too overstimulated to say anything that made sense. Unlike Mattsun and Makki, they didn’t need time to sync up into a nice rhythm. They both went in hard and fast, almost competing with one another on who could be the most brutal.

 Oikawa’s hands were on your breasts, pulling at your nipples, “What a good girl, taking your captain and vice captain like this.” He said, holding back his own moans as he whispered into your ear. “Our little good luck charm. My cute little slut, you’ll do anything I ask of you won’t you?”

 Your answer was a strangled moan, throat still sore from Iwa’s previous abuse. You could tell Oikawa was struggling not to cum. Whenever he got too excited he had the tendency to lose control.

 Once again Iwa had a bruising grip on your thighs, keeping them nice and spread so he could easily see his handiwork, watching you take his thick cock as if it were nothing. The squelching sounds you were making had you feeling incredibly embarrassed, the way the previous boys’ cum had acted as lubricant for the two new ones. Oikawa and Iwa were pumping in and out effortlessly, working you over once again.

 “Iwa-chan, but your thumb on her clit, I bet she’ll squirt all over us if you do that.” Oikawa said, nipping at your ear as he tugged on your nipples again. Iwa reached down, pressing his thumb against the engorged bud and rubbing in fast tight circles. Your back arched, more sobs erupting as you felt another overwhelmingly powerful orgasm rip through you. You couldn’t stop the release of ejaculate as it squirted out of you, showering all three of you in the process, though Iwa got the brunt of it.

 Oikawa was laughing harshly, “Fuck princess, you’re just so goddamn dirty aren’t you? You like being stuffed like this? Will you ever be satisfied with just one again?” You shook, collapsed on top of him, unable to make any sound or even think straight. Your walls were still fluttering around him, hips jerking in tune with their thrusts. Iwa’s nails dragged across your skin, the pain not even enough to cause you to yelp like you normally would. A few pumps later and he was adding to the mess with his own cum, the warm liquid filling your pussy so beautifully for him as he pulled out.

 “Best for last.” Oikawa hissed, Flipping over so he could ravage you at a whole new angle. You couldn’t even hold yourself up, he had to do it for you as he rammed into you over and over. He wasn’t holding back anymore, hell you didn’t even know he      was     holding back before. He chased his own high, hitting his peak and pumping you full of even more white creamy liquid.

 He pulled out and gently laid your hips down onto the bed. You cried into the sheets, still feeling jerky from your own string of orgasms. It was over? Finally? You couldn’t believe that you had actually survived all four of them at once.

 Oikawa and Iwa began to clean themselves up as Makki put his captain’s phone away and went to pamper you with kisses. He turned you on to your back and spread your legs just enough so he could clean you up the best he could. Parts of the bed were soaked unfortunately, but Mattsun brought a clean towel to lay down over the puddles, moving you so that you were on top of the towel instead of the wetness.

 “Don’t forget, Makki, make sure she’s up tomorrow for practice.” Oikawa said in that sing-song voice of him. “Maybe we can have a round two in the equipment room.”

 You whimpered in protest as Hanamaki held you close to him. “He’s joking, love, don’t worry.” He whispered to you softly, knowing you were too outdone to do it again so soon.

 Iwa punched his shoulder roughly, “leave her alone, asshole.” He said threateningly, coming over to plant a light kiss on your forehead. “If you can’t come tomorrow, don’t stress it.” He said quietly enough that the only other person to hear him was Makki. He straightened up before shooting a glare at Oikawa.

 Oikawa frowned a bit at him before walking over to you. “Good job, princess. I knew you could do it. You made your captain so proud tonight.” He cooed softly, petting your head. “I’ll call you in the morning to check on you.” He placed a kiss identical to Iwa’s onto your forehead. “Makki is going to take good care of you tonight.” He assured before standing up once more. “Let’s go, Iwa-chan. I’m hungry.”

 The two started bickering as they left. Mattsun cleaned up around the room a little more before, wishing you a farewell before leaving. Hanamaki continued to whisper to you about how amazing you were and how thankful he was for letting them do this. He didn’t stop until you finally lost your battle with sleep, cuddled up next to him and clinging to him for safety.

 And the next day you definitely didn’t show up to practice.

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Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawksward​, @drxwsyni​

[hqcult]

PERFECT ## oikawa tooru

the air of perfection surrounding you makes him sick. you're worse than the geniuses he hates

. tw misogny, predatory behavior, smut, noncon/dubcon, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, fingering . wc 1.2k

before his flight to argentina in a few months, oikawa made it a hobby to swing by his alma mater. 

iwa's too busy and he can't possibly bother his best friend when he's working so hard in college. so oikawa tooru goes alone. sometimes, he comes in early while the team's still there. maybe he'll even join matches for fun — coach irihata still has a soft spot for him, apparently. 

but most of the time he comes when the gym is empty; when there's an absence of the squeaking shoes and the ricocheting balls. it never fails to make his heart swell in nostalgia. ah, how he’ll miss this place terribly once he moves to argentina. 

something did change, though. 

oikawa wouldn't call it drastic but the first time he crashed their practice, he was all but pleasantly surprised to see the new aoba johsai manager. 

you were a pretty thing and the boys adore you a lot. you didn't look the type to apply as manager just to score an athlete boyfriend nor did you seem to have any other objective other than taking care of the team. oikawa can say as much because he could see how the new captain looks at you and the way you purposely try to keep things platonic. friendly. you don't let yahaba, or anyone in the team, go the extra mile for you.

and the fact that you can miraculously keep kyoutani in check is the cherry on top. while the said player is still rough around the edges, he learned how to listen to you and the last time kyoutani ever listened to anyone was months ago, when iwaizumi was still in the team. 

team morale is high when you're there to support them on the sidelines. in your white and turquoise tracksuit yet still managing to look attractive. yahaba's got quite the patience, if oikawa do say so himself. 

you were like some sort of goddess to them. it's sickening how dewy-eyed his ex-teammates would get whenever you smile and hand them their water bottles. it was too good to be true. you were too good to be true. there has got to be some sort of conspiracy behind this whole ordeal. 

"oikawa-san, i didn't think you'd be here at this hour."

he turns around at the sound of your voice. there you stood in casual clothes, hair tied up and face bare. with the harsh angles the moonlight created together with the poor lighting of the gym, you look normal. not an air of that perfection he’s always seen circulating around you. 

"how did you get in? only yahaba and i have the keys."

you saunter closer and it wasn't a wise move on your part. while you have aoba johsai as the same denominator, the alumnus was still practically a stranger. quick exchanges of acknowledgments aren't exactly sufficient to get to know someone. let alone be friends with. but you never once thought any of that. how naive.

he smiles as you finally stood next to him. you can't help the slight dread pool in your stomach at the sight of it. with his tall lean frame that can easily overpower you, the smile looked more ominous than friendly. 

"bold of you to assume i gave the keys back. why do you think shigeru had to duplicate them again for you?"

you didn't see it coming, the arm oikawa slings around your shoulders before pulling you flush against him. you would've lost your balance if you hadn't clutched the lapels of his coat. 

"can it be…" his plush lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispers. "our little secret, cutie?"

warning bells are going off in your head. it tells you to run and stay the fuck away from him but you did nothing of the sort, had only forced a polite smile and swiftly ducked around to get his arm off you. 

this is oikawa tooru we're talking about. 

yeah, you know he's quite the ladies man but you doubt he'd go... that far, especially if he knows the person's uncomfortable. not to mention, you're part of the volleyball team! you're managing his past team. surely, maybe, the familial bond extended to you too despite only joining their little family this year. you were just being paranoid. you were reading into it too much. 

"uhm, yes. of-of course."

oikawa does have to admit, seeing little miss perfect stutter and avert her eyes from him did wonders to his ego. well, now you don't look anything like the goddess his ex-team worships. you're not exuding the same level of confidence or reliability that you always carry yourself with. you look unsure of yourself. powerless in the face of real dominance. 

"why are you here?"

"i…" is it really wise for you to say why? "i forgot the team's record notebook in the girl's locker room. i need to pass a summary of it to coach tomorrow.”

oikawa smiles, eyes comically lighting up in excitement before slinging a heavy, oppressive arm around you again. "ooh, i'll come with!"

you walk with shoulders slightly folded in and the ex-captain likes you like this. all meek and submissive. he daresay you look prettier compliant and not like a self-entitled princess who thinks she shouldn't bother being romantically involved with an athlete. he still thinks you were bitchy and idiotic for friend zoning yahaba of all people. he thought you should be very thankful for getting noticed by his junior. 

but oh well, at least oikawa gets to have a go. 

to witness firsthand what the fuss about you is all about.

you wanted to shrug his arm away and he knows that but he won't do it. the fact that you're struggling to even speak up about it makes him smirk. see, now you know your place. as you should. sometimes, girls like you who get silly little ideas in their head should be reminded of where they truly stand in the food chain. oikawa is more than glad to be the one reminding you. 

you told him to wait outside while you sauntered into the girls' locker room and oikawa smiles that innocent smile before nodding. 

a prey really shouldn't have turned her back on a predator.

just as you picked up your blue notebook on the bench, the resounding lock of the door clicking shut sounded too loud in a closed-off space. "oikawa—'

"you know, i'd really appreciate if we drop formalities. i think screaming tooru while i fuck you sound way better. makes things more intimate, dontcha think?"

he was onto you before you even got the chance to turn around. the notebook you were holding drops to the ground as he grabs hold of your wrists, his leg swiping at your ankles to tackle you to the ground. he's quick. the floor is hard and cold when your back crashes into it. you wince, the shock of what's happening yet to register in your system. never before thinking that this sort of thing will happen to you.

oikawa isn't as cruel or disgusting as you think. you were both legal adults. he knows. after all, he was there when the team decided to throw you a surprise birthday party on your 18th. he was also there from around the corner, eavesdropping when yahaba pulled you aside and confessed his feelings to you and you had the fucking audacity to turn him down. 

he doesn't want to call this revenge, not when he'd still do it whether or not shigeru had confessed. 

you were from a different breed of people. worse than geniuses. you are so disgustingly perfect in every sense of the word that it's so fucking unfair. it fueled jealousy more severe than he ever felt from tobio or ushiwaka. 

because people aren't perfect. people aren't meant to be perfect. even oikawa himself is far from it so why should you be any different from him? you're nothing special. you're ordinary just like him. you don't deserve it. you're not even working hard enough like oikawa to fucking deserve it!

you were red in the face when he took a good look at your pinned form underneath him. your eyes are glossy but held fierce contempt as you meet his gaze, your lips sealed shut in a straight line. you were trying to hold yourself back from crying and it only fuels the fire of his anger. 

"what, think i'm not worth your tears?" he growls, a hand coming up to pull your hair. he sits atop you, his legs pinning yours down as he straddles your hips. "think you're so high and mighty that you won't cry for your oh so dependable oikawa-san?" he purposely makes his voice high-pitched like a girl, copying you spitefully. 

"that’s fine, i can give you a real reason to cry."

he rips your flimsy shorts off and ogles at your cute panties. pink with little bows? how innocent. 

his large hand covers your mouth, the heavy pressure keeping your head in place as his other hand cups your sex. the heat of his palms makes you squirm. already simulating the sensitive nerves and you poorly try shaking your head in denial. because no no no your body shouldn't be enjoying it!

"ou're a real piece of work, (name)-chan," he starts, voice conversation as he nudges your underwear aside, the flat of his thumb drawing lazy circles against your bare clit. "why pretend you don't like it? it's okay to accept pleasure from ordinary people like me. you're plain and average at best too, you know."

with both his hands occupied, you can freely try pushing him away but it's futile. he's too strong and your head is starting to ache with how hard he's pressing it against the floor. 

his blissful expression peeves you out entirely. he doesn't look regretful in the slightest. "you should really get off of that high horse, cutie. stop pushing me away. silly little girls like you belong like this, underneath a capable and powerful man to protect you."

you pant, the ministrations on your clit too good but you don't let it blind you. 

"fuck yo—"

but oikawa doesn't let you finish. he swoops in for a kiss, a hand holding your jaw firmly in place so you can't bite him. a particular hard nudge on your clit makes you gasp instinctively and his tongue invades your mouth. he's a good kisser. so damn skilled from all the girls he's kissed before you. maybe if circumstances had been different, you'd have butterflies in your stomach. 

"aw," he coos against your lips. "i see. little miss perfect wants me to fuck her? how cute."

you thrash and squirm, a pathetic sneer on your face as he holds you down with ease. all it takes is one firm hold against your shoulder as he nibbles on your neck, kissing and suckling at your skin until they turn purple and red. he placed them in positions he knows you can never cover even with the official aoba johsai uniform. why would you cover them anyway? you should wear his hickeys with confidence! it's the one evidence to show he even bothered himself with you so you should be grateful to him!

"let go of me, you jer—!"

"i don't think i'll suck on your tits today, cutie. no time. let's get to the fucking already then, yeah?" 

you absolutely hate his voice. it's the signature high-pitched and childlike tone partnered with that goofy smile of his. a facade he always wears when dealing with other people. a show he's mastered to an artform. he looks awfully unbothered by how wrong this is and it chills you to the bone. 

"oikawa-san—please—"

"i told you it's tooru!" he whines, pouting. "how many times do i have to tell you?"

panic seizes you when his ankles hook around your legs to force them open. he hears none of your pleas and shoves two long fingers up your pussy. there's a slight stinging feeling as he looks for that one spot that'll make you succumb, make you admit defeat. 

"if you want my dick inside this pussy you better call me by my given name or you won't cum, baby girl~" he says in a sing-song tone.

"who the fuck told you i wanted your—shit."

your toes curl and your back arches when his fingers grazed around a certain area. you didn't have time to feel betrayed by your body's reaction as the man on top of you chuckles condescendingly, angling his fingers so he hits the spot in every single thrust. "you like that, don't you? you like what my fingers are doing."

"no!"

"no?" oikawa repeats, measured. with a flick of his wrist, he has his thumb pressing firmly against the sensitive nerves of your puffy clit again and he watches you writhe, lose yourself to pleasure, moaning and whining so wantonly under him. "but cutie, i don't think that's what your body is telling me."

you cringe in disgust when his hot tongue laps at the falling tears in your eyes before whispering against your ear. breathy, and desperate, and ever so patronizing. you don't hear the zipper of his pants going down, nor did you realize he wasn't even bothering to hold you down anymore. good. that's a good start. baby steps, oikawa thinks. for someone who sat in a make-shift throne worshipped by hormonal teen athletes for so long, serving the one great king will be a huge reset for you. 

when he enters, it's a tight fit. of-fucking-course you're a virgin. always staying true to that little miss perfect reputation, huh? sweet and gorgeous but humble and demure. you probably had the same shitty old school belief of staying pure 'till marriage. it makes him harder, makes his length throb and ache with the desire to taint, to soil, to fuck you until that good girl image is stripped away and all you can think about in every waking moment of your useless life is your tooru's big fat cock. your pure lips only producing the most sinful of words to satiate his deepest desires—"fuck me hard, tooru!" "make me your whore, tooru!" "i want to feel all of you, tooru!" "i want your cock so bad, tooru! please please please!"

your longing cries of defeat, the lewd sound of skin slapping, oikawa's pornographic moans—it's a wicked symphony crafted by prodigies. "go on, cutie. cry for me. cry, and cry, and cry, 'til you don't have anything left inside you but your sorry tears and my cum!"

little miss perfect? no. you're his little cockwhore.

[blossom-hwa]

pirate!ateez |2|

The continuation of the pirate ateez au inspired by pretty much every wonderland stage and the kingdom wonderland performance!! Once again credits to mai @wingkkun for the ideas that sparked san, mingi, and yeosang’s stories!

(Reading part 1 isn’t required to understand what happens here; however, there are spoilers for previous members’ stories!!)

Pairing: Ateez x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 11.9k (total)

Genre: some fluff, mostly angst, pirate!au

Triggers: cursing, blood and death (sometimes semi-graphic) - specific triggers for each section are listed below the header!

Part 1 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang) | Part 2 (San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho)

Ateez Masterlist

san (ABS - specialty in swordsmanship)

warnings: cursing

so. san.

poor dude i put him through a lot in hongjoong’s part :/ he didn’t deserve that i’m sorry san

but let’s start from the beginning

unlike some of the others, san has only ever known the streets. he has no memory of real parents, just various random caretakers who ended up causing him more harm than good

there are two singular exceptions to this during san’s childhood: you and an older pirate named jongin

you’ve been there ever since san can remember. even now he’s not entirely sure how or when you two met, he must’ve been very young, but he just knows you’ve been with him for what feels like forever

the two of you wandered the streets together, begging and stealing food whenever you could

it only makes sense that you two would fall in love once you were old enough to understand it (which comes a little later than either of you would’ve liked - you’re probably sixteen or seventeen when you get the guts to press san against a wall and kiss him like person starved as san kisses back with just as much fervor)

when you were still together, it sometimes felt like you were the only reason san could stay alive

you mean the world to each other. the literal world

so that’s you - someone san knows will never abandon him willingly, will always stay by his side as long as they can

now uh moving on to jongin

you two were young when you tried to pickpocket him that one time

immediately it was clear you’d messed with the wrong guy - he noticed you two immediately and you were caught

but surprisingly, all he did was smile and offer to buy you something to eat

and being the hungry children you were (san thinks you were around twelve at the time) you said yes without a second thought

luckily jongin didn’t have any ulterior motives - in fact, he taught you and san to become better pickpockets, how to take advantage of people’s blind spots and your natural talents

so naturally, he became both of your role model

and because jongin was a pirate, you two resolved to become pirates just like him when you grew older, even asking him to take you on his ship whenever he returned to the city to visit.

but every time, jongin refuses. when you’re younger you kind of accept it, but as you and san grow older you start to insist more and more

there’s nothing left for you two here except a life still on the streets, and isn’t being a pirate pretty much the same? stealing and pillaging, just on the ocean instead of on dry land

neither you nor san flinches at blood, and you can both deal with injuries

but jongin still refuses, finally telling you just how far from heroes pirates really are. they kill and steal, often more than they need, not taking just enough money and food to survive or pass out to those less fortunate the way you and san both do

this kills the dream a little for you and san, though you both come to the conclusion that not all pirates have to be horrible - look at jongin

so you still resolve to become pirates, maybe on a crew that isn’t as terrible as the ones jongin has told you two about

this sort of dream goes on for another year or so. you and san figure out your shit and finally kiss, jongin mock claps when he finds out before disappearing again, you and san wander the streets again still with little aim but your interlocked hands are purpose enough

until you get kidnapped. 

san literally almost goes insane when he can’t find you after two days. tears around the city like a man possessed, looking everywhere you might be and then everywhere you definitely aren’t on the off chance he’ll find you

but even when jongin arrives back in the city a few weeks later and joins san’s frantic search, you’re never found

it’s all too much. way too much for san - he’s literally lost the one person who keeps him sane - and honestly the last straw is when jongin asks if he wants to join his crew now

deep inside san knows he means it out of the goodness of his heart. jongin isn’t evil and he’s hurting too with your disappearance, he’s just trying to give san a semblance of a new home

but san explodes. none of this would’ve happened if jongin had taken them in earlier, had let them join the crew together, if he’d even taught them more - it’s his fault, it’s his fucking fault

jongin tries to grab san but he just twists away - jongin’s touch feels like fire burning against his skin - and runs

for how long he runs, san genuinely doesn’t know. he just knows that he can’t stay here, can’t stay in this city anymore 

so he becomes somewhat of a highway robber? holding travelers at sword point and demanding what they have

the sword he uses was gifted to him by jongin and it makes him feel sick every time he pulls it out, but even though san is sometimes irrational, he’s not stupid - he needs a weapon, and if this is the only one he has, so be it

doesn’t matter if memories of you and an older pirate come flooding back every time he grips the handle.

san makes a name for himself - people whisper about him, tell travelers to avoid the paths he frequents, but the thing is he doesn’t really frequent anywhere. he’s a wanderer too, which makes him so dangerous because he’s so unpredictable

until hongjoong appears and san makes the mistake of challenging him to a fight. 

i say mistake but really, it was probably one of the singularly most life-changing events for san except for 1. meeting you, 2. your disappearance, and 3. leaving jongin 

because when hongjoong has his sword positioned over san’s neck and san thinks he’s about to die, hongjoong gives him a choice - join his crew or get his throat cut

san just scoffs at first and is like why would you want a highway robber on your crew? don’t you know who i am?

hongjoong does know, of course - he actually tracked san down because he needed a good swordsman to join his crew and thought san would be perfect

san is on the edge of saying no, but hongjoong is one of three people who’ve ever beaten san in a fight (jongin, you, and now joong) so he’s got a little grudging respect for the guy

but even more than that, he remembers you and remembers your pact to find a semi-decent ship and join the crew 

it seems like a childish pact now, but for some reason, once he remembers it, he can’t put it out of his mind

(maybe it’s because if you’re dead, which you probably are, san wants to at least fulfill his part of any promises you made so long ago)

so he says yes

for the first few weeks, san really considers jumping ship

seasickness is a bitch, first of all, even if the ship’s doctor is nice enough to give him tips on how to handle it

but the main issue isn’t just him being sick - it’s the people

not all of them. most are fine. but san has a particular problem with wooyoung and his partner, not because they’re assholes or anything, but because they remind him way too much of him and you. childhood friends who grew up together and wouldn’t part for the world, except they’re still joined at the hip while you’re lost

and san just thinks it’s horribly unfair that you had to be torn away from him while others are allowed to stay together

but really, the ship is better than living on the edge on land. besides woo + his partner, the others are nice, and san has found himself a match in sword fighting with hongjoong and yunho

so as time passes, san acclimates to the ship. he gets closer to everyone there and comes out of his shell, even becoming friends with yeosang whom he previously deemed too close to woo + his partner to deal with

and because yeosang is a package deal with the other two, san eventually becomes friends with them too

for the first time in a long time, san thinks he’s happy, even though he still sorely misses you and wishes you were here. but you’re dead or at least long gone, and he’s not going to find you again

so when you turn up on an enemy pirate ship several years later, san nearly has a heart attack when he sees your face (wooyoung actually has to catch him when he stumbles)

from the widening of your eyes, it’s pretty much the same reaction for you

there’s no fight, at least not then. the town your ships have docked in is safe ground for pirates, meaning the villagers will deal with them but won’t tolerate fights

so your crews resupply, all the while studiously ignoring the pirates from the other ship

but san is itching to talk to you - even just see your face one more time

you look so different yet somehow exactly the same and san wants to know what happened to you - how did you get that scar down the side of your face?

you feel the exact same way. 

when you were kidnapped, you were taken on a pirate ship that was far less respectable than hongjoong’s. meaning you went through a fucking lot

you tried to escape at least five times but each time you just got caught, so you eventually gave up. so here you are, ignoring the literal love of your life because your ship is shit and happens to have beef with hongjoong’s

meaning you couldn’t escape if you tried. 

so you’ve resigned yourself to mere stolen glimpses of san’s face but then your captain gives all of you a mission

he wants a hostage. and he wants you to lure one of them in. 

you don’t want this mission. you fucking hate it and you hate your crew and you don’t want anything more than to just run away so you just ignore it and resolve to subtly sabotage your crewmates’ efforts in any way you can

and for the most part it works

but then you’re on deck, helping one of your crewmates put some supplies away

when a crowd comes on board, bruised and bloodied, and drops choi san onto the wooden floor.

the captain is ecstatic - they’ve managed to catch hongjoong’s best swordsman, no doubt they’ll get a hefty ransom for him

but you’re not listening. all you can do is avoid san’s sharp gaze

and think of a way to help him escape.

the ship sets sail within hours, trying to get away from hongjoong as quickly as possible. san lives his days in one of the tiny cells belowdecks, barely fed between questioning sessions during which he says nothing

but he can feel hope slipping away, day by day - even he can’t break through chains, and even if he could, his sword is gone. five or six pirates he could maybe take alone without a weapon, but there are far more on this ship

still, when the ship finally docks, san has resolved to at least attempt an escape. he knows the captain is in negotiations with hongjoong over getting him back so hongjoong has to be in the same port, or at least nearby

so when someone opens the cell again, san literally launches himself at them in an aborted attempt to run

you subdue him quickly - you’re not dehydrated and underfed, after all

san just gapes into your face that’s barely lit by a torch on the wall outside his cell. he has so much he wants to say, the first being how could you do this to him, did none of your time together mean anything - 

but then you unlock the chains around his wrists, toss him a bundle of fresh clothes, and tell him to get changed

dressed in the new clothes, he looks like a member of the crew, and you tell him to keep his head down as you bring him up out of the ship and into the village

san’s still kind of dumbfounded so when you tell him to run, he doesn’t understand at first. run where?

hongjoong’s ship is in the next port, you say. on foot, it’ll take a few days to get there, so he needs as much of a head start before people realize he’s missing

therefore - you push back his forehead with a finger - fucking run, choi san. i don’t recall you being stupid before.

when he understands, he tries to tell you to come with him - hongjoong’s a decent captain, he’ll probably understand

but you shake your head. you yourself need to leave. once your captain realizes san has disappeared, it’s only a matter of time before you get found out, considering the number of unconscious and dead bodies you left in your wake, and you need to be long gone and away from san before that happens. you’re not going to bring more harm on him again. the least you could do is maybe divert their attention for a while

san’s heart sinks when he realizes you have no intention of coming with him, no matter how much he tries to convince you

and he almost starts crying again - just when he’s finally gotten you back, fate is forcing you to slip through his fingers yet again

you just hug him and apologize for everything, for getting kidnapped, for not helping him escape until now even though none of that is your fault

san says that and more, apologizes for even thinking you’ve changed - he should’ve known you were still the same person he’d fallen in love with so long ago

but there’s no more time and now you’re pushing him away and telling him he needs to go before it’s too late. in the process, you press a blade into his hand. 

for protection. 

it’s faintly familiar. and when san looks a little more closely, he realizes it’s the blade that jongin gave you so long ago, a copy of the same one he gave san. only the initials etched into the handle are different.

it makes him feel sick. san had switched his blade out for another sword the second he could, too many memories of you and jongin attached to it. but you never stopped using yours. 

that knowledge makes his insides burn with shame and he tries to give it back to you but you force him to take it. i have more weapons than just this. you have nothing. and now you need to go.

he kisses you one last time. you kiss him back with just as much fervor and when you break away, there’s a small smile on your lips 

you tell him you’re glad he’s found a kind crew, a crew he’ll be happy to remain with. you’re glad he’s luckier than you

san tries to tell you again to come with him, but you shake your head. hongjoong won’t be happy to take in a member of an enemy crew, and even if he was, that’d only turn your ship’s sights on san’s for a long time. you won’t have that. 

so you disappear with a last reminder not to be stupid, a wavering smile on your face 

it takes everything san has to return to hongjoong’s ship without chasing after you, and he’s welcomed back with open arms and warm words

but despite being back with his family, san’s heart sinks the farther they get from the harbor, knowing that he’ll probably never find out what happened to you, his original family, after this

wooyoung tries to comfort him, saying not to lose hope - after all, you met once after your separation, you might meet again

however, fate isn’t kind. san knows that very well. twice you’ve met, and twice you were separated

san hopes wooyoung is right, hopes he’ll see you once more

but as the ship cuts through the water into the open ocean and land fades from sight...

deep inside, something tells san he won’t.

mingi (ABS)

warnings: cursing

you look me in the eyes and ask how it is possible for me to write angst for someone like mingi. i tell you i will try my best

that is a threat and a promise

anyway! let’s get on with it

mingi is a pure-hearted orphan who has somehow survived the demoralizing and horrible orphanage system in his hometown

he never knew his parents, all he’s ever known was that shitty little orphanage, it’s a miracle that didn’t break apart his pure personality

it helps that from a young age, mingi was taller and bigger than his peers - people didn’t want to mess with him

also when he’s not smiling, he can look pretty scary

but that left mingi lonelier than he wanted to be, so he resolved to smile whenever he could so that people wouldn’t feel intimidated by his stare

it didn’t win him many friends??? like the kids his age were more just weirded out by him smiling when they lived in a fucking orphanage. but he did get more free handouts from adults when he’d pretend to act like a cute kid, so he just kept doing that

eventually when he grew older, maybe mid-teens, he got a job working at his town’s port

mingi’s pretty smart and more importantly here, he’s very strong - just the type of worker his supervisors were looking for

the job is okay - not horrible, but it’s kind of boring and mingi’s supervisors aren’t always the nicest

but mingi’s always been the type of person to just content himself with the fact that hey, things could be worse

he might not have survived the orphanage

he might not have been born with strength

he might not have gotten a job that comes with a semi-stable roof over his head

so for a couple of years, this goes on, mingi helping ships unload and reload, stuff like that

until hongjoong’s ship pulls into port

it normally wouldn’t mean anything if hongjoong hadn’t been half dead on his feet with his partner and seonghwa pretty much carrying him down the gangplank

most people were just shoving them around, totally ignoring the fact that hongjoong clearly needed help

but even though his supervisor told him to go help one of the bigger ships, mingi saw hongjoong and went off to go help them

recommended a cheap place to get rest and offered to help them with some of the ship repairs so they wouldn’t have to pay so much (because their boat was... a little beaten up to say the least)

after a few days, hongjoong recovers from his sickness (brought on by exhaustion, not eating well, and god knows what else - his partner chewed him the fuck out), and they all thank mingi profusely

they’re about to leave then - the ship has been repaired thanks to mingi’s help and they’re ready to set sail again

but a glint appears in seonghwa’s eye and he suddenly turns around and asks mingi if he’d like to come with them

mingi: wha - you mean me?

seonghwa: is there another guy named mingi around?

mingi: i mean technically yeah, there’s a lee mingi working on the other end of the shipyard -

at first mingi’s like... no i don't think so because he has a stable job here, right? nothing really happens and it’s kind of boring, but being a pirate sounds kind of scary

but another part of him has been aching for something more interesting than the monotony of working at the port day in and day out

besides, hongjoong seems like a much nicer person than his supervisors

so in the end, mingi throws caution to the wind and joins the crew

he kind of questions it at first because he really doesn’t seem to have a knack for swordplay, also he kind of tends to panic/get squeamish when there are fights

but seonghwa keeps faith in him no matter what - he was the one to ask mingi if he wanted to stay, after all

so as time goes on and more people join the crew, mingi adjusts to life as a pirate. he finds his role on the ship in making repairs when they’re in port or even when they’re on board, which makes him happy - mingi likes being useful

he also likes jongho, who joins him as one of the ship’s repairmen when he ends up with the crew

he even becomes a fair swordsman - definitely not the best on the ship, not by a long shot, but after being trained by first hongjoong and then yunho (with san occasionally interjecting when he joins the crew), he definitely has the skills to defend himself and others

emphasis on others. because while mingi might panic during a fight where he’s only defending himself, when those he cares for come into play, mingi is a demon. an absolute demon. 

an enemy pirate once got within a hair’s breadth of killing seonghwa once and mingi just unleashed absolute fury. first time he ever killed someone

it haunts him sometimes, but the knowledge that he was protecting seonghwa keeps him from dwelling on it too much. that’s how much mingi cares about his crew

and that comes into play when you enter his story

you’re the child of a couple corrupt aristocrats who have never, not once in their lives, given you the attention you deserved

no matter what you did, they didn’t care

you studied your ass off. you worked so hard on swordplay. you’re literally the golden child in the aristocratic circles of your region and other nobles wish you were their child, but all your parents ever do is give you a passing glance and a fake smile

sure they’ll praise you at parties and things when they talk to other nobles, but it’s all empty - they only barely remember all of your accomplishments. they just don’t care

then one day, hongjoong’s crew pisses off your family - ruins trade at some port or whatever

so your father puts a bounty on his crew’s heads

it’s not exactly a common thing to put bounties on the heads of pirates, but it can happen if a crew fucks around a little too much

and when the bounty goes out for the crew of the aurora (hongjoong’s ship), you seize on it as your last chance to gain your parents’ approval, the approval you’ve been seeking for quite literally your entire life

you’re not dumb - you know it’ll be hard, and you know your family is only going to be completely satisfied if you bring back proof that the captain is dead. not some other random crew member, though that’s a step in the right direction

you decide to go for one of those crew members first, preying on the fact that if one goes missing, the captain will likely be easier to capture

you’ve heard stories about hongjoong, he isn’t heartless. he actually does care about his crew, each of whom plays an integral role on the ship

which means if you can get one of them, you can lure him out - you might not even have to kill off the rest of the crew if you can just take him out

therefore you set your eyes on one song mingi. from the rumors he’s the worst at fighting, but he’s also essential when it comes to ship repairs 

the perfect target for your plan

so you set out on your journey. your idea is to try and see if you can befriend mingi somehow, get him to trust you, then take him hostage

and somehow, you get lucky at the first port you visit - hongjoong’s ship is right there, aurora emblazoned on its side

it’s not hard to spot mingi - he’s one of the tallest, and he’s busy tinkering around the side of the ship

it’s even easier to get his attention

because your master plan is simple and dumb as fuck

fall into the water and pretend to drown. 

mingi, being the pure-hearted lovely soul he is, jumps in to save you despite you being very able to swim

he’s worrying over you when he pulls you out of the ocean, spitting and choking water

and all you can think is 1. mingi is very handsome but more importantly 2. all of this is genuine. like too genuine

it unnerves you - how can a pirate be so pure of heart?

but you push that thought away. there has to be some hidden side of mingi that he hasn’t shown yet, he’s a pirate after all. you can’t feel guilt for using him - you need to gain your parents’ approval. you need to

so you do your damn best to keep him in port. every night you go out and subtly undo some of the repairs he’s made and create a few new problems as well

the ship ends up staying in port for a few more weeks than expected

and during that time, you find that mingi... is really not hiding anything

at all

you keep trying to prod at him when you invite him to bars for a drink, when you “coincidentally” catch him on the streets, etc. 

but there’s nothing to mingi except his very kind personality that sometimes, against your better judgement, sweeps you off your feet

like when that horse-drawn carriage almost hit you and mingi pulled you away just in time

or when you bumped into the wrong person and they pulled a knife on you that mingi was fast enough to deflect

by the time those several weeks are over, you haven’t made any headway in your plan to kidnap mingi

you tell yourself that it’s fine, this mission was always going to take a long time - you could be here for over a year before the right opportunity presents itself after all, and mingi probably doesn’t trust you enough just yet for that to work anyway

mingi ends up sailing off again, and he promises to come back

also makes you promise to stay and wait for him. 

you tell yourself another lie, that you’re happy he’s asking you to wait just because it’ll make your plan so much easier - plus, it means he likes you, which is a step towards trust

it’s definitely not because mingi’s smile is as bright as the sun itself. 

the next time you see the aurora come into port, you swear to yourself you’ll do it this time. you’ll kidnap mingi, force hongjoong to come out so you can put his head on a silver platter

but it doesn’t happen. and the next time it doesn’t happen, either. 

and in the end, you have to accept that the reason you keep sabotaging the ship, trying to keep mingi in port as long as you can, is that you like his smile. way more than you actually should. 

some stupidly hopeful part of you tries to convince you that it’ll be fine, you can continue living like this

but another part of you knows lies never last

and a last part of you screams that you’re a disappointment to your family, falling in love with one of the pirates your parents have put a bounty on when that pirate probably doesn’t even love you back

he does, though. he really does

mingi loves the curve of your lips when you smile genuinely, when the clouds in your eyes disappear for a moment of pure, blessed happiness

he’s fallen in love with your mind, with your quick wit and light banter when you speak

for the past two trips on the ocean, mingi has dreamed of little more than holding you close and kissing you and he’d resolved to that, finally, when he came back this time

which is why his heart completely shatters when he finds you by the ship one dark night, carefully undoing some of the repairs he made just this morning

he never suspected it, but as he stands, watching you work, the pieces begin to click together

mingi isn’t stupid, after all - he knows you’re smart, knows you’re good with your hands, and you’ve also been extremely secretive about your past

even more secretive than he is about being a pirate.

you sense his presence when he gets closer before he even says anything and your hands freeze

for a moment, neither of you says anything

then mingi just lets out a cracked why?

you could lie. you consider it for a few frantic moments, mind working to conjure something credible 

but it’s mingi. it’s fucking song mingi, the pirate you’ve fallen in love with against every single one of your wishes

so the truth behind all of your lies spills out in one go

in the moonlight, you can see mingi’s eyes turn from confused and betrayed to even more betrayed

but what really drives it home is when you mention hongjoong, and how you were trying to use mingi to lure him out

mingi’s eyes turn angry for the first time since you’ve met him

because like i said, mingi doesn’t take kindly to anyone who tries to hurt those whom he cares about

like yeah, he cares about you, but hongjoong is his captain, the captain who’s saved mingi’s life multiple times, often at risk of his own

that’s when mingi’s eyes narrow and his expression turns cold

a chill runs down your back, a chill you’ve never felt before in his presence

and mingi tells you then and there that he better not see you ever again

because if he does, it won’t end well

you’re in the next town before you allow yourself to process anything that just happened, mainly because you know that if you try you’ll start crying

and that’s exactly what happens in a dark little tavern at the edge of the city

you cry over yourself, over losing mingi, over failing your stupid mission for stupid parents who were never going to accept you anyway

you cry because you hurt someone so pure of heart just for two cold aristocrats who didn’t give a shit

you cry because now you have no purpose in life - you’ve catered your entire existence to your parents, and they don’t even care

what’s the point of anything now?

back on the ship, mingi doesn’t cry. he just stares at the fading town as the aurora draws farther and farther from land

your story plays in his mind over and over again

he sympathizes for you, he really does - mingi isn’t cruel or heartless, he heard the desperation in your voice when you talked about your parents and he’s seen the clouds in your eyes firsthand

but it doesn’t change the fact that you’d sought him out with the intention of hurting his crew beyond repair

he tries to tell himself this as comfort, to reaffirm that he did the right thing by chasing you off

deep inside, though, even if he’s sure he did right

the pain of a broken heart and what could have been, he knows, will never fully go away.

wooyoung (ABS)

warnings: cursing, death, blood

before i start i’d like to preemptively apologize

probably should’ve done that before every other part too idk why i'm only doing it now

maybe it’s because this one is 3.4k long and the second longest is a mere 2.8k (fuck you san)

doesn’t matter i've done it please don’t come for me

wooyoung is a ball of pure sunshine aboard the ship. almost literally

sometimes shines a little too bright (ie he gets annoying), but without him, the crew would fall into darkness

but a light needs a source, doesn’t it? it doesn’t just spontaneously emit out of nowhere - fires need kindling, candles need wax, even the sun burns on fuel

and wooyoung’s fuel is you.

like i mentioned in san’s part, you and wooyoung are childhood friends. probably not quite as long as san and his partner - you met when you were a bit older, maybe just after you turned twelve or something, but that doesn’t mean your bond is any less strong

wooyoung remembers your first meeting very clearly - in fact, it’s one of his favorite memories

some older kids were pushing him around, and wooyoung was just trying to run away

he’d just broken free and was running off when a hand grabbed his wrist, dragging him behind an empty market stall, and another hand slapped over his mouth to muffle his cry of surprise

the older kids ran past, then stopped, looking confused, but when they couldn’t see wooyoung anywhere they just left

you finally let go of wooyoung and he turns around to look at you

and from then on, he swears you’re his savior

seriously, wooyoung thinks you’re literally the greatest fucking thing on this planet. might not act like it all the time because he’s a little shit, but you mean more to him than anything in the world

you don’t plan to get attached to him, not at first - you’re a little more standoffish, you told wooyoung you only helped him because you really hate the group of kids that was messing with him

but wooyoung attaches himself to you like a fucking limpet and as the months pass, you find you don’t mind. not at all. 

you’re both street orphans, pickpockets and all that - neither of you are in the orphanage (wooyoung just never ended up there, while you ran away early on) and you’ve both been alone for a long while, so it’s nice to have someone with whom you can trust your back

and as time goes on, you start thinking of wooyoung less as an ally and more as a friend, then less as a friend and more as someone you love

wooyoung, on the other hand, has been head over heels since day one - getting into your space, pressing stupid little kisses onto your dirty face even as you try to bat him away

but he obviously doesn’t make a move at first because he’s like fucking twelve and doesn’t understand what he feels, and when he grows older and figures it out, he refrains from doing too much (like kissing your lips) because you don’t seem to feel the same way

except you are an impatient fuck

so once you figure it out and more importantly, you figure wooyoung out, it takes less than a day for you to have him pressed up against a wall, kissing him with all the strength you can muster

when you pull away, lips swollen and eyes suddenly shy, wooyoung tries to crack a joke like wow, didn’t know i was that irresistible

you just smirk and say you’re the one who’s been staring at my lips day in, day out for the past several years, woo

oh yeah that’s when wooyoung knows you’re the one

(he does ask why the fuck you waited so long if you noticed everything over the past few years)

(the truth is you only really figured it out a few days ago, but you tell him you just wanted him to suffer)

(it cues a lot of angry whining and cute pouts even though he knows it’s a joke so what can you do but kiss him until he shuts up?)

anyway you and wooyoung more or less rule your small section of the streets

master pickpockets and all that, plus you know how to use a knife very well and wooyoung is adept at fighting with whatever the fuck happens to be nearby

you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and though you never truly lie, your reasonable-sounding words always have several layers of meaning, which is very useful in negotiations

meanwhile wooyoung is just really, really good at sliding out of sticky situations - you turn your head the other way for one second and he’s disappeared

people don’t really dare mess with either of you because they know that if one of you get hurt, the other will literally go out for blood

the same goes for yeosang - you met the quiet orphanage boy on one of the rare times he went outside, and everyone knows not to mess with him since he’s under your protection

this reputation precedes you, which is why you and wooyoung are very surprised when a tall, gangly looking dude comes into your little pocket of territory looking very lost

both of you immediately think this is someone good to pickpocket, or at least harangue for news - he’s clearly not from here

too bad mingi has a hongjoong on his side who is very worriedly looking for his tall lost repairman

and in the middle of you two getting up in mingi’s space, hongjoong appears, wielding a very scary-looking sword

both you and wooyoung know this is someone not to be messed with, but curiosity gets the better of you - who is this guy, why is he here, and why doesn’t he know to stay away?

instead of asking, though, you both run away fast enough that hongjoong doesn’t have to deal with you

the next day, though, when you see a familiar face with a familiar sword hanging around the market, you decide to tail him for a bit

turns out he’s a pirate, which is intriguing in and of itself - it also explains the unfamiliarity with the territory

but what’s even more intriguing is how he manages to defend himself against your knives all the while answering your peppered questions in the most evasive manner possible

in the end, hongjoong has you pinned against an alley wall, sword inches from your throat

he clearly expects you to start begging for your life

but you just laugh breathlessly and say - hey, i’ve got two friends who’ve got nothing left here, just like me. do you have an opening for three on your crew?

hongjoong thinks you’re joking but you’re dead serious. there’s nothing in this town, you’re sick and tired of pickpocketing people and protecting your little territory to no end - there’s no point to it all

you know wooyoung feels the same way. he’s so energetic, always looking for something new, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s itching to get out of here

yeosang might take a little convincing, but if you can prey correctly on his desire to visit the lands he’s only ever marked on maps, he’ll come too

hongjoong asks what you have to offer to his crew. you say a sharp tongue, resourceful fighters, a navigator

and most importantly, a source of light. 

(hongjoong doesn’t ask and you don’t elaborate on the last one, even though you can see a hint of confusion in his eyes)

he gives you two days to convince wooyoung and yeosang, if you don’t show up by then he’s setting sail

wooyoung is convinced almost immediately - his only qualm is seasickness, and you tell him he’ll get used to it

yeosang takes a little more effort, but with your persuasion skills, he agrees

and so the three of you join hongjoong’s crew

being a pirate isn’t as glorious as you originally thought it’d be - the first few weeks are just being seasick all the time, and there are fewer fights and less exploring than you’d like, more just running around and maintaining the ship

but the crew makes up for it more than tenfold

you and wooyoung have never really had family - just each other and then yeosang

but now that you’re with the crew, that sense of home you’ve only ever felt with woosang just multiplies

you love it on the ship. so does wooyoung

(he says it’s because there are so many hidden places where you can hide to kiss, but you think it’s because he has seonghwa to annoy now and not just you + yeosang)

both of you are on cloud nine, even with the nonstop work day in and day out

it’s all worth it when you can see the new cities, pilfer a little something in the marketplaces every now and then

life goes on like this - some crew members are lost and others join

you mourn for those gone, especially hongjoong’s partner, and you try to welcome the new members as best you can

(san is a tough nut to crack, but in the end, you and wooyoung are both happy that you kept at it long enough to see the results)

it’s a constant give or take - you know the ocean isn’t kind, know that the life of a pirate isn’t kind, and you’ve learned to live with it even though a piece of your heart breaks away with every crew member who falls

but then yeosang falls. literally. 

and wooyoung begins to fade away.

wooyoung feels his emotions deeply, he’s always known that - it’s what binds him so strongly to you and what bound him so strongly to yeosang

so when he fell during that battle, stabbed several times, and could only watch yeosang fall into the ocean from the crow’s nest - essentially yeosang’s home on the ship - 

wooyoung cries for hours after the battle, locked in your arms

and for once, even the knowledge that you’re by his side doesn’t seem to be enough to fill the void left by yeosang’s loss

the entire crew is experienced with their own types of loss, loss of partners and friends

but this is the first time wooyoung has felt it so deeply, like a knife carving out a hole in his chest

eventually, though, he recovers

it takes months, but he still has you. he still has san. he still has yeosang’s grieving friend, who might have become his partner had he lived, and he still has all of the crew

and you let him latch onto you whenever the void comes creeping on him again, because though wooyoung might be the light, you’re the source of fuel that keeps his sputtering flame burning

(guilt eats at you, too - you’re the one who convinced yeosang to join the crew, after all. but wooyoung calls it bullshit - you’re not at fault, not at all, yeosang understood what he was risking - and when he latches onto you, you take your own comfort in the warmth of his arms)

life goes on after the battle and yeosang’s death. wooyoung takes a long time to recover from his injuries and you’re by his side the entire way

but then san gets kidnapped and wooyoung almost goes off the deep end again - he can’t lose another friend

thankfully, san returns, so wooyoung doesn’t lose himself completely

but he begins to fear the disappearance or death of one of those whom he loves even more than he used to

as time goes on, he realizes he might not be able to handle the life of a pirate - he cares too deeply, too much, losing the people he cares for is breaking him slowly, bit by bit

you ask him what’s wrong one day and he spills all of this to you, sobbing

the next day you ask hongjoong to leave you and wooyoung at the next port - you can’t be on the crew anymore

hongjoong asks why, but when you explain he doesn’t even hesitate to nod and thanks you for your service

he does say that he’ll miss the source of light on his ship, the light and its kindling, but if this is what you and wooyoung really want, then it’s what he’ll give you

wooyoung feels a guilty sense of relief when you bring him back the news - he’s relieved that you two are going to leave, but there’s also the guilt of taking you away from a life that you enjoy

but you remind him that he’s your life. wooyoung is everything to you, and if he isn’t happy, you’re not going to be happy, no matter what

so it’s settled that you two will split off from the crew at the next port, which you’ll reach after a few weeks of sailing, maybe

you reach the port and are ready to part ways, saying goodbye to the rest of the crew

the aurora is staying in port for a couple of days for repairs, and you and wooyoung decide to stick around for at least the night before you go off

you go on a walk that night with him, darkened streets lit up by evenly spaced torches and lanterns

which is why you see the other ship pull into port with a navy seal on its side. and your blood freezes. 

with one look, you and wooyoung are racing off to where you know the crew of the aurora is staying because you have to warn them

hongjoong looks grim. there’s a fight, it’s going to be inevitable, and you can feel wooyoung tensing up next to you

your former captain says you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to, you’re technically not part of the crew anymore

but one look between you and wooyoung settles it. one last battle to help the family that took you in

the battle is in the dark, bloody and brutal and made even worse by the fact that you can’t see the rivers of blood flowing down the streets - it’s all a mess of sticky black that your feet leave tracks in on the roads

you and wooyoung are back to back with san, the three of you fighting to the last

until there’s finally an opening and you manage to escape into a little alley

except the alley ends in a wall. a wall tall enough to climb over, maybe, but wooyoung has a wound in his stomach and san’s bleeding out of his side and you’ve got injuries of your own so you’re wholly, completely fucked

as several naval soldiers appear at the end of the alley, all you can think is how you and wooyoung were supposed to have gone off today, were supposed to have left to find a more stable life together

but at the same time, you know that if you hadn’t stayed for the night, your crew, your family, might not have gotten enough warning to save at least a few of their lives

wooyoung is starting to wheeze behind you. san doesn’t look much better, and you feel like you’re going to collapse

there are four soldiers standing in front of you, and there’s no shred of uncertainty in your mind when you think we’re not going to survive this

except - maybe if you can buy yourselves some time - 

your eyes light on one of the torches on the side of the alley and a really dumb plan springs into your mind

you spring forward, ignoring wooyoung’s cry, and snatch up the still-burning torch

with a prayer that the ground is flammable, you hurl the torch in front of you 

and thankfully, a flame begins to burn

you turn around and start helping wooyoung boost san over the wall

wooyoung is about to go next, grasping san’s hands - you go to help push him up

but then metal flashes in corner of your eye and you have to whirl away, dropping wooyoung to dodge the sword that came a hair’s breadth within slicing the skin off your cheek

how the soldier got past the fire, you have no idea - it’s still burning

maybe they got over it when it was still low

but then there are two shadows, not just one, both with blades flashing

and you know with a stark certainty that both you and wooyoung are going to die if you don’t get up that wall immediately

the problem is, there isn’t enough time to get both of you up - one is going to be slashed to pieces by the time it’s their turn

but one of you...

you block one of the blades and send the soldier crashing to the ground. the other is farther away and for one split second, you lock eyes with them

there’s enough light to see your smirk

give me a moment here, will you? you say

then you turn around and kiss wooyoung on the mouth. 

it’s a brief kiss, barely longer than a second, but it’s all you have time for before you bodily lift wooyoung as much as you can so that san can reach him, arms pulling him up

san acts on reflex - he doesn’t realize what you’re planning just yet and neither does wooyoung

but they sure as hell figure it out when you duck under the second soldier’s swipe and begin fighting, despite the blood streaming from your face and body

in the background, you can hear wooyoung screaming and no doubt he’s thrashing around in san’s grip

but it’s all you can do to focus on the fight at hand - two against one with the one injured isn’t fair, but since when has the navy played fair?

you notice the sword flashing down at your side. you notice it, but you’re not fast enough

white hot pain bursts below your rib cage and you fall to your knees, blades clattering from your hands

another explosion of pain enters your back and you let out a scream of agony, collapsing to the ground

wooyoung watches you fall in the moonlight, red and black blood pooling beneath you

and only then does he stop thrashing in san’s hold

because he’s crying too hard, too hard to see or do anything but let a silently crying san carry him away

san takes him back to the ship where hongjoong manages to set sail in record time, leaving the navy behind

wooyoung doesn’t even move from where san has laid him on the floorboards - the only sign he’s still alive are his eyes, deadened eyes that track the land they’ve left behind, growing smaller and smaller in the distance

the land that holds your body

the body he’ll never see again.

several hours pass. someone’s moved him into the medbay, wooyoung doesn’t know who because all he can see is you collapsing to the ground over and over again, dark blood flowing endlessly from your wounds

tears build up behind his eyes again and he wants to scream, scream how nothing is fair, nothing is fucking fair, he was the one who wanted a new life that wasn’t that of a pirate and you were just going along with it but now he’s still alive and on the same fucking pirate ship he wanted to leave in the first place 

and he’s lost both of his childhood friends, first yeosang to the waves and now you to the navy

with this loss, wooyoung is grasping his will to live by a mere thread

and he isn’t even sure he wants to hang on any longer.

there is no sun aboard the aurora anymore, at least not in the form of jung wooyoung

because once a fire’s fuel is gone, it can no longer burn

and wooyoung’s fuel is out.

jongho (ABS)

warnings: cursing, death, blood

ah yes jongho stronk boy

when i listed the best fighters i bet you were expecting me to put him in there too

but what i meant by best fighters is best sword fighters

see, jongho is extremely good at fighting and has the arms to prove it

however, his skills don’t solely lie in swords - hongjoong/yunho/san are better than him there - but he will fight with whatever the fuck else happens to also be around him

mingi sometimes likes to bring up that one time there was an enemy pirate fighting next to him and jongho just picked him up, swung him, and knocked out a second enemy pirate right then and there

so yeah. that’s jongho. well-rounder extraordinaire

no one knows how the fuck he’s so good at everything and at this point most of the crew is afraid to ask

but anyway let’s talk about the back story a little shall we

unlike most of the others, jongho has parents that he remembers and as far as he knows are still alive

however that does not mean he likes them

they weren’t abusive, exactly - they just were never around and when they were, jongho mostly got ignored or ordered around to do stuff like cook dinner or fucking whatever

so that’s what he suffers through for most of his childhood

during that time, he learns how to be pretty self-sufficient - he’s the one who takes care of himself, after all

he learns to cook, clean, etc.

but most importantly he learns to repair things, like the house

he gets really good at it too, to the point that people start hiring him to help them with fixing their shit

which is how hongjoong finds him

well, more accurately, yunho finds him

the aurora has docked in jongho’s town after a long storm and the ship has a lot of damage that’s going to take mingi a lot of time to fix

so yunho sets out to find someone who they can hire to help mingi out

he asks around and everyone recommends jongho, so yunho goes to find him. after losing his partner in that storm, hongjoong is in no shape to leave the ship, san is still recovering from injuries and guilt, and seonghwa’s busy tending to the crew members and making sure they don’t fall apart

when jongho answers the knock on his door, yunho is like ???? at first because what the fuck this guy can’t even be older than him - is he really that good at fixing things??

tbh yunho was expecting some middle aged man with massive muscles or something

but jongho’s staring at him like wtf do you want and yunho remembers he actually has a purpose here plus jongho does have really big muscles even if he isn’t middle aged so he’s like hi i heard you’re jongho can you help us fix our ship we’ll pay you

and what’s jongho gonna do? say no? 

so he works with mingi for the best part of a couple of months, fixing up the aurora

and during that time, he meets the rest of the crew, who come and go

jongho gets to know them and he grows to like them - he used to be a pretty solitary person, but it’s really impossible to stay that way after meeting one jung wooyoung and his partner

even after he puts it together that they’re pirates, he still likes them

jongho isn’t stupid, it’s pretty obvious after working with mingi for a couple of weeks - they talk of treasure and travels when they think he doesn’t hear

but really, jongho doesn’t care too much - pay is pay, no matter who it comes from

and really, pirates can’t be much worse than the greedy nobles and aristocrats who run his city, right? their illegal acts are just blatant and out in the open, while the aristocracy try to keep their wrongdoings under wraps

he does ask mingi about it one day - why he decided to join the crew of the aurora

after the initial spluttering of we’re not pirates, cueing jongho’s deadpan expression that has mingi immediately quailing, mingi tells jongho more or less his story of joining the crew

maybe a few embellishments because yknow it’s mingi and we love him for it

and jongho listens carefully. his story is a little similar to mingi’s, actually, even if he knows his parents and was never at an orphanage

they were both alone, they both learned to do repair work...

that night, jongho lies awake in bed in his empty house, thinking about what mingi said

as they continue working, jongho prods mingi for more and more stories about the crew and their adventures, and though he visibly shies away from some topics (major fights and major storms, particularly the one that drove them into this port), mingi tells jongho enough for him to see that hongjoong’s crew isn’t immoral. far from it, really

there’s no explaining away the battles and murder and pillaging, but as far as jongho is concerned, at least they’re upfront about it

nobility does the same shit, they just prefer to call murder “the hanging of criminals” and pillaging “taxes”

and jongho is tired of both

after about a month or a month and a half, he decides to himself that he wants to join the aurora

so he asks mingi one day how hongjoong might feel if jongho wanted to join the crew

he doesn’t know hongjoong, he’s only caught maybe a glimpse or two of the captain because he’s been grieving this whole time, which is why he goes to mingi first

mingi tells him to come back the next day, he’ll see if seonghwa can better answer that question as the second in command since hongjoong is still out

seonghwa takes a liking to jongho almost immediately, and the feeling is mutual

even just minutes after meeting, seonghwa gives jongho the sense that he truly cares for him in a way that jongho really hasn’t felt before, not even from his own parents

so the deal is settled and after the repair job is finished, jongho returns to his small home to pack up his stuff. the next day, he’s sailing into the open ocean without looking back

like almost every other new crew member, jongho gets seasick for the first few weeks he isn’t on land

meaning he stays in the medbay more often than he’d like to

but it’s fine - because that’s where he meets you

you’re the ship’s doctor. relatively new since the last doctor was killed in battle maybe half a year ago, but wooyoung was lucky enough to befriend you, an apothecarist’s apprentice, in one of the towns the aurora docked in 

you come from a town that’s a safe zone of sorts for pirates - the locals are friendly if wary, and pirates don’t get into fights on your land

it’s a pretty decent existence if you ignore the fact that royalty/nobles would have all of your heads if they could find definitive proof that your town likes to harbor criminals, but people keep their mouths shut here so it doesn’t happen

however, as decent as this existence is, you got a bit of the short end of the stick

your parents died after you were apprenticed to the apothecarist, leaving you with no nearby relatives or places to stay other than the orphanage or the apothecary

and the orphanage in your town majorly sucks so you just opted to stay at the apothecary

except the apothecarist is not a good human being. major leech. creepy. you hated being around him any more than necessary

which means you learned everything as fast as you could just so you could stay away and look after customers on your own

and when the opportunity to use your skills elsewhere came up, you barely hesitated before telling wooyoung please get me the fuck out of here

only thing that made you balk was the possibility of death on the seas, but you’re young and naive and when you’re at that age, you feel like you’re invincible - therefore you brush it off

plus, everyone dies eventually, right?

you’re the new blood for several months until jongho joins the crew

and because he’s the new guy now, you take it upon yourself to familiarize him with how the ship and the crew work while he’s currently bedridden

it gives him something to focus on other than the rolling sea beneath him

and it’s nice to talk to someone who’s just mildly sick and not bleeding to fucking death

even after jongho gets better, he continues to spend a lot of his free time in the medbay because he likes being around you. your voice is soothing and somewhere in the back of his mind, he probably associates it with care and comfort, given how you treated him during those first few weeks

slowly but surely, you grow closer and closer

you’re the one jongho goes to when he feels a little stifled, too used to independence on land and unfamiliar with the teamwork that comes with being part of a crew

and you like to talk to him when you’re exhausted after treating wound after wound after wound after a harsh storm or bloody battle

it feels like you understand him, no matter what, and jongho does his best to lend you a listening ear as well - it’s the least he can do

you feel comforting, but in a different way from the rest of the crew

like yeah, seonghwa’s comforting in that mother sort of way, hongjoong has that tired dad vibe where jongho knows he can go to him with whatever, and the rest of ateez are like older brothers he knows he can trust

but there’s something different about you

he figures it out, of course, because jongho isn’t dumb or clueless - but he is a little afraid of being so attached to you

because what if he loses you? then what happens?

he tries to go to seonghwa to talk about it because he’s genuinely so scared

but seonghwa’s not in his room and instead, a tired-looking hongjoong catches jongho in the hallway knocking on seonghwa’s door and asks what he needs from hwa

jongho is slightly nervous because he hasn’t spoken that much to joong, or at least not as much as some of the other crew - after all, he joined the crew when hongjoong was still in grieving and has only really been talking to him for a few months

and by now he knows what happened to hongjoong’s partner in the storm - the same storm that wrought the damage on the aurora that jongho helped repair

so he isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to talk to joong about it

but hongjoong presses him a little, saying that hwa is dealing with some other stuff at the moment and that jongho can talk to joong if he wants

so in a fit of recklessness (he’s also been holding it in for kind of a while, he needs to talk), jongho spills it in hongjoong’s office

and hongjoong goes silent. 

jongho regrets his entire existence during the few minutes of silence and he’s opening his mouth to apologize and take his leave

but hongjoong talks first

and he says to go for it. 

you can’t live your life in fear of what might happen, especially when it comes to love

losing love hurts, but the memories you make are worth the pain

hongjoong’s eyes look haunted, but there’s a faint smile on his face that jongho somehow knows isn’t faked - his words are the truth

and he takes them as comfort when he goes to talk to you later about how he feels

turns out you’ve felt the same way for a while, but you didn’t think the feelings were reciprocated so you didn’t say anything, just kept caring for him in the ways you know best

you talk the entire night about what this means for the two of you, and it ends with you and jongho holding each other on one of the medbay beds, curled into the other’s warmth

it turns out to be a blessing that jongho talked to hongjoong about this and not someone else

mingi/yunho/san don’t have partners on the ship, while wooyoung and his partner have been together for literally forever - getting together was barely a decision for them, more like the only logical path to follow

seonghwa would’ve been good to talk to, probably - he lost his partner (at this point he still thinks they’re dead) and would’ve said something similar to hongjoong 

he still wears the ring, after all

but the talk with hongjoong breaks down that last wall between him and jongho, and they grow closer

which is something jongho really appreciates, because hongjoong is as dependable as seonghwa and another figure jongho can now trust

life goes on - it gets better for jongho, actually, what with you and finally growing close to every member of the crew

he loves sword fighting practice and delights in terrorizing his crew members during mock fights by using whatever happens to be nearby, not just his sword

he also loves sitting with you on deck and breaking an apple in half, wordlessly handing one part to you and keeping the other for himself, all the while staring at the clouds during the day or the stars at night

just being near you makes jongho instantly feel not safer, but more comforted

because jongho’s in as much danger as he always was, he knows that

but having you close by makes him feel more able to handle that danger.

at least, until yeosang dies. 

jongho watches him being flung off the crow’s nest and into the water, never to resurface

watches his partner race to the railing and scream until their throat goes raw and the screams die to begging wails

the scene replays itself in his head again and again after the battle is over

only instead of it being yeosang flung through the air, it’s you

which doesn’t make sense. you’re the doctor, you stay belowdecks during fights and have never ventured into the crow’s nest as far as he knows

but suddenly jongho is confronted with the very real fear that you could die any second

he knew that before, but like you, he was young and reckless and thought himself invincible

now, though, he knows what could happen

and it worries him. you’re not the worst at fighting on the ship, you can defend yourself pretty well, but you don’t have have as much experience as even mingi because 1. you’ve been on the ship for less time, and 2. you don’t go above decks during fights - you stay in the medbay with someone designated to protect you. a ship’s doctor is valuable, after all

your instincts are to heal, not to destroy, and that terrifies jongho

it gets even worse after wooyoung loses his partner and jongho sees the shell that he’s become

jongho didn’t see it happen, but san tells him and seonghwa several days later, eyes haunted as he tries to describe the sight of wooyoung’s partner jerking under the blades, wooyoung going limp as a rag doll as they fell, san being forced to bring basically a corpse back to the ship - the only reason he knew wooyoung himself wasn’t dead was because of the tears running down his face

the story cuts deep into jongho’s heart - wooyoung’s partner was a very good fighter, far better than you, and even they were lost

what if it was you, not them?

jongho decides it’s better to be paranoid than to do nothing and he trains you harder, asking san/yunho/hongjoong to help

you notice the change in his demeanor but don’t question it - after all, you’re wrestling with similar thoughts to his

you confide to him during long nights with you two curled up together on one of the infirmary beds and jongho talks, too

neither of you wants to end this, and you both agree that ending it won’t do much, anyway - you still live on the same ship together, and breaking apart will only hurt you two more

but jongho wishes there was something he could do about this constant fear that he’s going to lose you

wooyoung is still a shell of his former self - jongho doesn’t know if he’d become the same way if you died, and he doesn’t want to test it out

he tries to ignore the fear, to just enjoy every day with you like it’s his last

pressing his lips to yours always makes him feel a little better, anyway

the fear never goes away, though - it’s almost like something is warning him that he will soon suffer the same fate as wooyoung and his partner

jongho ignores it. prays to every higher being he knows that you’ll be safe and extends his prayers to those he doesn’t even know

but prayers don’t work when fate has already decided its path. 

the battle comes quickly, and jongho is thrown into the fray, incapacitating as many navy members as he can

he’s so focused on the fight to see the two navy soldiers going belowdecks

because nobody goes belowdecks. the fight stays on top of the ship, only when the ship is being pillaged after the fight do they go below to see what’s there

but since when have naval officers played fair?

jongho has just stabbed an enemy soldier when he hears the muffled yell through the floorboards

a yell of fear, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time because he knows the voice, but he’s never heard it so frightened

no one has ever seen jongho move that fast. he crashes through the throng of individual battles, earning himself a scrape in the side and several cut ons his arms, but in the moment, he doesn’t feel any of the stinging pain

he crashes belowdecks and freezes for a second at the sight of a dead crew member on the floor, the crew member who was assigned to guard you during this battle

and in that frozen moment, he realizes that there’s no screaming anymore. 

jongho throws himself into the medbay

and the first thing he registers is the blood all over the floor.

grief pulls a desperate cry from his lips

the soldiers turn around

and jongho doesn’t know what happens next.

when his mind catches up to the present, jongho’s throat is raw and two naval officers are dead at his feet, their blood seeping into the floorboards, almost ripped apart

but he can’t even take sick satisfaction in that

because no matter how much navy blood he spills, you will still be gone

dead

your blood staining the medbay floors

jongho falls to his knees - blood soaks into his pants, your blood or the officers’ blood, he doesn't have any fucking clue

all he knows is that you’re dead, gone forever the way he always feared

and no amount of blood he spills will ever bring you back.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for me these parts were so much longer than they should’ve been I think I’m going insane)

[egcdeath]

opposites attract

pairing: steve rogers x villain!reader

summary: based off of the lyrics:

“you and i are two oceans apart

we're on earth to break each others hearts

in two, and it's hard

with you, when i'm too far

from you, i look at the stars,

do you?”

from ‘ferrari’ by the neighbourhood

warnings: injuries, sparring, mention of blood and bruises, angst, fluff, and banter

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i am a simple woman. i think of a hurt/comfort concept and am morally obligated to write it. (this is a repost from the other day so if you saw it before, no you didn’t)

if you’d like to be added to my taglist, click here! as always, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Thick, cushioned, cream colored walls. You supposed this was an upgrade from your last room, with its harsh and reflective steel. Every time you made an appearance here, it seemed there was a new, yet futile, attempt to keep you contained.

As you studied the pillowy surface, you drummed your fingers on the wooden table that your hands were currently strapped down to, and secretly hoped for your captor to rear his head, even if he was peeking through the double-sided mirror to your left.

Your mind proved itself to be a powerful thing, as the door ahead of you opened, and none other than Captain America stepped in, looking valiant and proud as ever.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” you greeted.

“Flux,” he said in a matter of faculty tone, nodding his head at you before pulling the chair in front of you aside and sitting down.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” you asked, as if you hadn’t been tussling with him in the streets less than an hour ago.

“Y’know, just our biweekly catch up,” he shrugged, playing along.

“Can I suggest coffee for our next meeting?”

Steve scoffed, but you almost swore that if you squinted, you could see him blush. “Enough of that,”  he mumbled before opening a yellow folder and turning it to face you. “You ready to tell me about him?” Steve asked, pointing to a printed photo of Brock Rumlow.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Captain,” you responded, looking up and batting your lashes at the man. This routine was like clockwork for you two. Fight a little, get yourself caught after a moment of weakness, and end up in an interrogation room.

“Don’t play dumb with me Flux,” he warned in a snarl, wrapping his fingers against your wrist and making you yelp. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

“Ouch, Captain. You’re being rough today, even for you.”

“I’m always rough with you,” he insisted, raising a brow as he loosened his hold on you.

“You’re being rougher than usual, that’s what I just said,” you furrowed your own brows at him. “Something on your mind?

“You’re stalling,” Steve stated while squinting at you.

“I would never do something like that, Cap,” you closed your eyes and visualized the outside of the building. “Does it have anything to do with those accords?”

You opened an eye quick enough to catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking, “I didn’t mean to strike a chord. Oh my gosh, ‘a chord’, accord. I really didn’t even mean to do that.”

You opened your other eye to get a clear view of him glaring at you. “Okay, sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment,” you gave Steve a sly wink.

He stood up from the chair in a dramatic fashion, leaning down to get right in your face. “No. You won’t. Tell me everything you know about Rumlow.”

“Cap,” you pouted mockingly. “You’re not very good at this. Really makes a gal wonder why they keep sending you in to interrogate me, when you don’t seem to get much out of me.”

He grit his teeth while looking down at you, your eye contact both intense and passionate.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you began, looking away at a plain wall in an attempt to focus a bit more on leaving, “I genuinely know nothing about him.”

Steve gave you a humorless look, and your eyes naturally flitted back to him, “really,” he said drily.

“Really,” you confirmed. “We don’t really work in that whole chemical warfare field. Especially with a guy like Rumlow? He’s bad news. Did you really think that all ‘villains’,” you made air quotations on the table. “Know the intimate details of each other’s lives and plans?”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed aloud as he moved back, seemingly convinced.

“I was serious when I said that I’m leaving, though. You and I both have better things to do. But please tell Wanda that she did a good job for me, okay? I mean, civilian deaths are never pretty, but I genuinely would miss having you around.”

“I hate how you talk so much, but literally say nothing,” he huffed.

“I’m not gonna take that personal, ‘cause I know you don’t really mean that,” you sighed softly and looked away to visualize the outside of the building. “Hopefully the next time I see you won’t be UN sanctioned. Farewell, Captain.”

With those words, you were gone.

——

For the next few days of your life, you hadn’t stopped receiving an earful at the Brooklyn base. Mainly from your teammates, who seemed to never let things go, and were the nastiest gossips you’d ever met. Currently, rumor had it that Cecelia, your boss, was preparing to have a strong word with you.

You cracked your knuckles anxiously as you followed a teammate, Amelia, down into the sparring facility, as an attempt to calm your mind before whatever bad news was broken to you.

You passively listened to the TV in the corner of the room while wrapping your knuckles in preparation of getting your ass beat, and listened to the rapid fire reports from hours earlier in the day, but mainly tuned into the fight between the Avengers at the Leipzig airport.

“Have you heard?” Amelia questioned, tying up her lengthy hair as she sauntered onto the mat.

“No, tell me more,” you followed suit on the mat, rising onto the ball of your foot to the heel of your foot in an alternating rhythmic bounce.

“I guess some of it is that UN thing, but it’s probably because of the Winter Soldier,” Amelia bounced similarly to you before charging forward and throwing a left hook at you.

“No way! I thought that guy just disappeared after that S.H.I.E.L.D shit,” you dodged the swing, and went to knee her. “I swear, I asked Steve about it once.”

Amelia rolled her eyes at you, and caught your knee, pushing you down to the ground in the process. “You’re obsessed with him.”

“I think it’s mutual. And you said you’d go easy on me,” you whined, grabbing her extended hand and pulling yourself back up.

“You’re delusional, and that’s why Cec is pissed with you. In fact, Cecelia was so mad, that she couldn’t even form the words to tell you. At least, that’s what she told Naomi.”

“Why, though? It’s not like I haven’t been caught by him a million times already.”

“That’s the problem, though. What happens when they decide to send someone else in to talk to you? And they start waterboarding you, or some shit? All the sudden the Avengers know everything about us?”

“Well that wouldn’t happen, because I would leave,” you shrugged after blocking a few punches.

“I hope you’re getting all your aloof-ness out now, because Cecelia is not gonna put up with this attitude.”

You huffed, and marched over to get a sip of water, dramatically squirting it in your mouth before heading back to the sparring mat.

“Just let me enjoy this while I can, okay? I know how to protect myself,” you swung your fist in an uppercut, and Amelia maneuvered herself out of the way.

“Well, I was just reading something before this. Apparently your boy is a fugitive of the law now. It almost looks like your time is already up,” Amelia commented, delivering a stiff jab to you at the same time that you crouched.

Hearing this news, you froze up, and the punch landed right on your nose, an unsatisfying crack reverberating in your ears.

“Y/N, you alright?” She asked, approaching you as you reached a hand up assess the damage, and pulled away an extremely bloody hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled letting her lead you off of the mats and to the connected bathroom, so you could get a better look at yourself.

You were dizzy with pain, and you pressed your hand to your nose, willing it to heal. Though not your most frequently used ability, it certainly assisted some of the pain. You squeezed your face in a cringe as your bone rearranged itself.

“Is he in jail?” you asked, watching her face screw up in the mirror.

“You’re not really- you are a lost cause,” Amelia scoffed.

“You could be a little nicer to the person whose nose you just broke.”

“You’re fixing your own nose! You’re fine, okay?” she exasperatedly brought her palm up to her forehead. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Be ready to talk to Cecelia as soon as you leave this room. A word of advice? Don’t mention your work husband unless she mentions it first, okay?”

Amelia set a hand on your back and pat it, “good luck with her. If you need a sofa to crash on after this, my place is always free.”

You shook your head at yourself as she left, your own personal healing already fixing most of the damage. As you hopped into your own shower stall, you couldn’t help but question just how bad this confrontation was truly going to be.

——

You walked into Cecelia’s office after receiving a text message from her assistant, inviting you to meet with her.

You were handed a disposable cup filled with piping hot coffee as you entered, and Cecelia beckoned you to sit down in front of her. You obliged, nervously rubbing your hands on your pants as you sat.

“Y/N,” she began in a sigh, “what has gotten into you lately?”

“Nothing, just-“ the older woman put an open hand out, prompting you to stop.

“No, Y/N. You’ve let Rogers become your biggest blind spot. You let him catch you off guard and capture you nearly every single time you go out on the field! I’m starting to think that you want him to catch you.”

“What if I do?” you shrugged, feigning indifference.

“It’s not a ‘what if’ anymore, dear,” Cecelia took a deep breath. “Especially after what happened in San Francisco.”

“I- Cec, you told me that you wouldn’t bring up California anymore!” you huffed and shook your head. “It’s not even like it’s a problem. They haven’t once received intel from me,” you added.

“Something tells me that you won’t be having the same interrogator for a while at least. We were gonna take you out of the field before this whole Avengers fiasco, but I think it’s time for you to just take a break as a whole.”

“So you’re firing me?” you huffed, “great.”

“No, you are taking a break. We can get you set up in the Prague safe house, and everything.”

You weakly threw up your hands and looked away from Cecelia, not even being able to bear looking at her for the moment. What a great day you were having.

——

You sulked the whole way up to your apartment, and reached in your jacket’s pocket with sluggish speed. It was as if you couldn’t catch a break today, which was all you seemed to be able to think about while grabbing your key.

You looked up at the door, and noticed something slightly off. The door was just the slightest bit ajar, as if it was deliberately cracked for you to see. Someone was inside. Waiting for you. You held in your groan as you came to this conclusion.

You really couldn’t catch a break.

Despite your better judgement, you devised a quick plan in your mind. You could probably protect yourself, right? You closed your eyes in a blink, and imagined your kitchen. The plasticky tiles on the floor, the dent in your countertop from dropping a mug, the wooden cupboards that you’d quickly fallen in love with. The next moment, you were standing in your kitchen, right next to your silverware.

As quiet as you could possibly manage to be, you slipped your sharpest and largest knife from its home in a wooden block, and defensively in front of you. Creeping out of the kitchen and into your hallway, you examined area by area for any sign of intrusion, pointing your knife with every turn.

After finding nothing and no one, at the end of the hallway you turned, walking back down and stopping in front of your living room after noticing a few dark stains on your carpet.

You took a deep breath before walking into the open space, the pit in your stomach growing at the thought of what it was that you were about to find.

With a few timid steps, you found a shirtless Steve Rogers, sat on your couch, head lolled back, eyes squeezed shut in pain as he released shallow breaths and attempted to apply pressure to a wound. With one look at him, you yelped and involuntarily found yourself back in the hallway outside of the room, your fear strong enough to force you into teleportation.

“Funny seeing you here,” Steve began, and you stalked back into the room, your steps slightly less fearful as you stepped over his discarded tactical gear.

“Steve?” You whispered, setting the knife on a random bookshelf before kneeling down on the floor next to him. You had a plethora of questions, but you couldn’t decide what was the most important. “I- Are… What happened?”

He shrugged weakly.

“Okay, well how badly are you hurt?” You questioned apprehensively.

“Pretty badly,” he responded.

You nodded slowly while you attempted to process the entire situation. You couldn’t tell if this was a scene from your wettest dream, or worst nightmare. “I’ll be right back,” you muttered, leaving the room to grab some water to help you speed up your healing process.

As you reentered your living room, you set down the bowl of water and squatted down next to Steve once again. Dipping your hands in the liquid, and placing them on an open head wound, you found it appropriate to question him.

“Steve,” you began, watching the forehead laceration quickly shrink into a small scar. “Why are you here?”

“I had nowhere else to go,” he put plainly.

“A hospital, maybe?” you added, pushing away the hand that was currently holding down a rather bloody wound on his upper arm, and exchanging it for your own.

“Something tells me that a hospital isn’t the best place for a guy of my legal status to be at right now,” he countered while you halted your attempt to reduce the size of the wound, cracking your stiff knuckles in preparation for the final push of closing the abrasion. “Besides, this isn’t the first time we’ve done something like this before. You remember S-“

“San Francisco. Right,” you cut Steve off, and brushed off the previous comment. “This is gonna hurt a little,” you warned. before setting your fingers down, and putting an obscene amount of pressure on the bicep wound.

Steve grit his teeth so hard that you swore you could hear it. His muscles clenched as you resumed your attempt to soothe the sore.

“Hey, look at me,” you used your free hand, and gently pushed his cheek so that he was looking at you. “If I distract you, it’ll hurt a lot less. Trust me.”

He seemed to agree with you, and took in a deep breath while the corner of his eye twitched.

“How did you even find my apartment?” you asked, using your pinky to tilt his chin up, and force his view away from the cut.

“It wasn’t that hard, I mean, we’ve been tracking you and that ‘financial firm’ you work in for years,” he spoke through clenched teeth.

“You sure it’s not because you like to keep a personal tab on me?”

“No! Why would I…?”

“Because if all the Avengers knew where me and my teammates reside, we’d all be locked up already.”

“Fine, maybe I pulled a few strings. It’s just because I think you’re the biggest threat to the general public.”

“Really? The woman with the least destructive powers of all of us, not the one with super strength? Or the one who could manipulate elements? Or even, I don’t know, the person leading us?” you chuckled a bit at the poor excuse.

Steve rolled his eyes fondly, but you could clearly see the soft flush on his face.

“It’s okay, Steve. We all have our favorite coworkers.”

“We aren’t coworkers, though.”

“It seems like you’re gonna need all the allies that you can come across. Don’t get picky with me now,” you tutted, finalizing your work on his peck, and leaving behind a small, pink scar.

You let out a breath of exhaustion as you pulled your hand away, and pointlessly shook out your wrists.

“You alright?” Steve questioned, adjusting himself a bit on the sofa and grunting at the rather simple task.

“Fine. What else needs attention?”

He gestured to the light bruising on his ribs that only seemed to be getting darker by the moment.

“We should take a break first, though. You seem tired.”

“I told you that I’m perfectly fine,” you countered, setting one hand on your chest, and pointing a lazy finger at Steve, “you’re the one that needs a break.”

Steve grabbed your finger and gently pushed it down, “I don’t really, but maybe we should take a break.” He gave you a kind smile, and your heart fluttered. Even bartered and bloody, Steve managed to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Well, any great Captain America plans to get yourself out of this mess?” you leaned against the sofa, and twisted your torso slightly so that you could get a good look at your visitor.

“Nope, not yet,” Steve pursed his lips slightly. “Any input from the lady who seems to get out of every rock and hard place she finds herself in?”

You snickered, and shook your head at this, “not at the moment. But you have me on speed dial, right? I can get back to you when I think of something,” you joked with a wink.

“I would laugh, but I’m honestly a little nervous that my lung might pop if I do.”

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you scooted away from him so you could be closer to the bowl of water once again. “Why did we take a break? You need urgent medical attention.”

“You needed a moment.”

You shook your head and frowned, catching the inside of your bottom lip between your teeth, “don’t do that again.”

You dunked both of your hands in the water, then turned back around and set your damp hands on the bruising on Steve’s ribs, closing your eyes in concentration as you addressed the damage.

Steve howled out in pain, making you flinch as a result. With the hand doing less work, you blindly pat around in a search for something to shove into his mouth and dampen the noises he was currently making. Eventually settling on a blanket, you shoved the fabric deep into his mouth.

“Sorry,” you uttered while the muted noise of his pain rang through your ears, “neighbors.”

The task wasn’t the easiest for you either, healing what seemed like such a large break or fracture following several other injuries was depleting your energy quickly. Your arms and hands trembled as you began to watch the splotchy yellow mark begin to blend into the rest of Steve’s skin, and you were becoming more and more light headed by the second.

Feeling somewhat satisfied with your work, you pulled your shaky hands away, and leaned away from Steve’s body before losing your balance, and falling back onto your plush floor.

Steve yanked the blanket from his mouth, sticking out his tongue for a second as he attempted to pull a spare string from his mouth. He sat up rapidly, and looked down at you with raised brows, and big, frightened eyes.

“Y/N?” he asked breathily, still exhausted from his own exertion, “you still with me?”

Your chest rose and fell slowly, and you were silent for a moment before responding, “I just need a minute.”

Steve relaxed back into the sofa with the knowledge that you were at least still conscious, and waited a few beats before he spoke again, “thanks,” was all that he managed to utter.

The two of you sat there in an extremely loud silence, the only other noise being your nearly synchronized panting.

“I’m gonna go shower,” you announced after what felt like hours on your floor. You slowly rose, and dragged yourself to the bathroom in your bedroom. Hitting the shower valve, then sitting atop your countertop you let the suite fill with steam, reflecting on your bizarre day, but most of all, your interaction with Steve.

You let yourself dwell on this while you stood in the shower, forehead pressed against the warm tile as you considered the implications of every word shared between the two of you, and how you’d let this tiny crush get so far ahead of you. Maybe it really was a good idea to take some time away from New York. You were so deep in your own thoughts that you failed to catch onto the sound of the floorboard that loudly creaked in your living room, or the soft click of your front door opening and closing.

Changing into some more comfortable clothing, you exited the bathroom, and ultimately your own room ready to offer up your shower to Steve, and possibly even talk about your feelings in a serious manner with him. Yet, by the time you arrived at the couch that had held him just a half hour ago, it was vacant. In fact, your whole apartment was vacant. You’d checked three whole times.

Ending your fruitless search on your balcony, you settled down into the single plastic beach chair that you kept outdoors, and draped the blanket from your sofa that had previously been in Steve’s mouth around your shoulders. The chill of the night air contributed to the sting of your eyes when they welled up, and you told yourself that it was silly to ever think that this, you and him, could ever happen in the first place.

Gazing up at the stars, you cursed yourself for being so naive. For letting yourself fall so fast, and so hard for someone you knew so out of reach. The stars seemed to mock you, in all of their billions of years of knowledge.

Yet, part of you was comforted by the knowledge that Steve could be viewing the same constellations as you.

----

a/n: listen. i feel like these idiots have a lot of potential so if you want me to write any more of them i am totally down!

[caesthetix]

SAY A LITTLE PRAYER — Ep. What Paradise Is

↪Eren Yeager mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, heavy angst, description of violence, established relationship, spoiler for season 4, alternate ending, manga spoiler

"You know, I can't help but thank Eren that he killed her that night."

Everyone was busy with themselves after Jean beat Reiner to a pulp. The rest of them who were still awake, circling the campfire, waiting for sleepiness to engulf them. But that sentence was enough to stop them from dozing off, some pairs of eyes decided to fall upon them instead.

Hange tried to be neutral all the time. They needed to be the mediator between the Marleyans and the rest of the Survey Corps. After all, they needed each other if they wanted to stop the rumbling. Yet they couldn't help but speak up, they were human too after all.

"Huh?" It was Connie. "What do you mean by that, H-Hange-san?"

They just smiled softly as they looked down, watching their own reflection from the brown liquid in their hand. It was your favourite drink, coffee. Every sip would always be savoured as they imagined you sitting right in front of them.

"But we could use her strength. If she lived, she could help us to sway Eren." Armin spoke up, responding to their statement before. His blue eyes staring at the crackling fire, deep in his thoughts. "When we lost her, we lost seventy-five percent of the chance for winning this without having to harm Eren."

"You tell me that is the reason why he killed her?" The scowl on Connie's face hardened as he tried to connect the dots. "So we can't use her against him, eh? What a coward at the end. That lunatic bastard—"

"She would have followed him."

Mikasa's voice was soft and tiny as she cut his sentence. Yet even though it heard like a whisper, everyone could hear what she said. They blinked in confusion, except Hange and Jean who currently stood a few feet from them, somehow understood. The Marleyan raised their eyebrows in confusion, Annie could not understand what they were all talking about.

The rest of them were begging for more information, but the ravenette didn't give them any.

"She would have followed him."

Instead, she repeated the words. Her friends would understand her sentence — if they decided to use their brains for a while. They all knew you, she didn't have to give any further explanation regarding her statement.

Of course, now they understood why Hange thanked Eren for what he did to you. Even if you were alive right now, you were not going to be here, eating stew and drinking coffee while fretting about how to stop your lover who tried to commit genocide to the whole world.

You were going to be there, by his side, with your swords ready to be pointed out to anyone who tried to stop and harm Eren in any way. You would stand there, devoting your heart not for humanity, but for him. That was how big your love was, something that was blinding you, to the extent of worshipping him.

And they couldn't imagine themselves to be the one who sears their blades at you.

"You never told us, Hange."

Jean's voice filled the void, his feet stomping the grass underneath him, echoing through the quiet night. "That night, you never told us what happened." He stood on the other side of the campfire, his tall body looming in front of them as they seated on the ground.

The brunette stared at the man with a stern gaze, contemplating if it was the right moment to tell them. But their time was limited now, as their friends, they all deserved to know what happened that night.

"Alright." They put the metal cup down their lap. "Though I remind you now, it wouldn't be pleasant but," It even felt so heavy for them, by just thinking about your death. "But it would be so — her."

The veteran scout told them everything. From how you stood in front of their door, the coffee that they shared with you, to the time you cried when they gave you the key so you could go inside his cell. They were sure that you went there to talk and asked for a reason, but they knew thirty minutes wouldn't be enough.

Jean felt bad for asking, as he could see how much the commander suffered from this burden. Hange's hand balled into a fist, the other gripping tight on the cup's handle. Yet they keep on going, telling them how they saw Eren wash his face as if his hands were not stained by his lover's blood.

They explained the bruises on your neck, shaped like fingers as an indicator of how you died.

"Fuck." Jean cursed, his eyes glistening with tears that were threatening to fall. "Fuck." He shouldn't have asked, but it was too late, he could see the horror in your eyes, how afraid you were that night, how you were screaming for help but no one came.

For you to die, and the one who was responsible was your lover, he couldn't imagine the betrayal on your—

"But you know what's funny?" Hange spoke up once again, they were not finished yet. Their comrades immediately looked at them once again, asking for them to continue.

They sipped their coffee, recalling the gleam in your eyes, the comfort that they remembered up until now. There was no terror, you were not afraid of him even in your last moment. "There was no sign of resistance."

And that fact was enough to wake them up.

"Even from the start, when Eren choked her, she just stood there, letting him do it." They chuckled, almost maniacal. "Her eyes still shone with comfort as she looked at him. I-I always figure her out, I understand a lot of things about her. But, but I can't with this one."

They stopped, groaning as once again your eyes were the only thing that they could see. "I don't know anymore if she really believed that he must have to kill her for a reason," His hand shook the cup gently, letting the liquid swirl inside. "Or she believed that he would stop and let her go, even until she's gone for real."

And that last sentence broke them all.

The Marleyan couldn't look at the broken soldiers in front of them. Gabi and Falco pursed their lips, trying so hard to sleep. Annie who was sitting beside the unconscious Reiner, now having her pupils dilated as she understood the story, and who would be the mysterious woman that made them distressed like this.

Connie was silent as he kept gulping down water down his throat. Armin closed his eyes, but he could see it so clearly, the faith in your orbs. Jean just chuckled bitterly, muttering stupid woman again and again as tears were cascading down his cheek.

Then, Mikasa, her lips trembled as she tried not to sob. But whimpers already slipped, her empty cup fell to the ground as she put her hands on her ears as she wanted to stop the noises in her head. You brought joy, even in her life, and to be reminded that you were killed by Eren nonetheless, tore her apart.

The rest of the night was filled with nothing but sorrow. Tears accompanied them all to their sleep, silent weeps and choked-out sobs could be heard here and there.

Hange could only stay put under the white cloth that works as their blanket, staring into the dark green of trees, then went beyond that to see the night blue skies which adorned with stars. They subconsciously raised their hand, as if they were reaching for someone.

“Tell me, Hange!”

They tried to understand him, they really did. When they closed your eyes as you laid on the infirmary bed, they knew that you would appreciate it if they tried to understand why he killed you. Down in the basement, they tried to bait him with your condition, blaming him for how they lost another comrade.

“If there’s another way, then tell me what it is!”

But they were not you, they couldn’t see it. They wanted a reason but all they got from the man was just subtle answers, pain, anger, and how what he did was something inevitable. They just knew that he suffered too from what he had done, so perhaps it was enough.

They just wished — they could understand you.

"Oh, (Y/n)." They sighed, finally letting the tears slip down their cheeks. No one else saw them, it was just their lonely soul and the craving for your existence. "I think I didn’t know you enough."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈〄┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His vision was supposed to be filled with lights, dark blue lights that came from the coordinate. He used to know it all, see it all, what happened in the world as he activated the rumbling, he could hear all the screams from those people underneath him. Trampled by gigantic power, without given any mercy.

He couldn't remember when it stopped. The terror, his friends fighting him so they could stop his plan — suddenly all he saw was just a bright pinkish sky. It was as if he was laying down on one of the clouds, soft and free.

The breeze tickled his long hair, good that it just swayed his brown strands softly, but not good enough to give him comfort.

Comfort, oh, how much he longed for that word.

The past few days had been so hard as he kept on living to grant freedom to the Island of Paradis. He could not count how many of his comrades died, how many of his followers ended up not seeing that freedom, let alone all the lives that he took.

And now when he knew that he failed, he chuckled as the realisation dawned upon him. After all these years — he was still the same useless boy.

"Eren."

He sat up in an instant. Dark green eyes searching for the source of where it came from. Surely he was not hallucinating, but that was a possibility. He didn't even know what this place, let alone believing that it was her voice.

"Hey, Eren."

But it was indeed your voice. No matter how many days or weeks passed after some time he had to part with you, he could always recognise that voice anywhere. Gentle, warm, and comforting, it felt like he was so close to heaven.

"You are here."

Then he felt it. He felt you. He looked down on his torso, finding two arms wrapped around him from behind. It felt so right as his hand slowly covered yours, testing it in case it was all in his head. But he could touch, he could trace his finger on the back of your hand.

He laughed, just a short one as he still processed what kind of magic existed in this place. You rested your chin on his shoulder, planting a peck on his cheek without warning that caused him to blush a hundred shades of red.

"(Y/n)?" He called out your name. "Are you real?" You only answered with a single hum. "How come are you real? Where is this place? Why am I here? I am not supposed to be here, I needed to finish the plan, Ymir is—"

You shut him up by placing your finger in front of his lips.

"You are free, Eren."

Silence. He could not understand that. Did it mean that he already died? But if that was the truth, why did he even feel more alive now compared to all those years that he spent before?

You slowly retracted your finger, pulling yourself from his embrace as gently as possible. Eren was still deep in thought, hands falling to the cloud-like ground he was sitting on right now. You stood up and walked in front of him, bare feet were now within his eyesight.

He could touch you before, and it didn’t feel like he was hallucinating. He felt your kiss before, and it made him sure that it was real. Bewildered, he looked up only to find you looking forward. Even though he felt that he was finally free, he was still curious about what happened in this moment.

"What is this place?" He asked again, now a lot calmer than before as he gazed at your face which showed nothing but peace.

"A transit." You started, eyes never leaving the glowing sight in front of you. "A place where you are finally free, but still misplaced since it was not the last destination where you should go." He hummed, processing your words that still felt unreal.

"Then why are you here?" All this afterlife thing was so foreign for him. "Why don't you leave and go to your last destination?"

"Oh, boy, you really asking me that?" You chuckled softly, snickering as if that was the dumbest question that you ever heard. Your eyes finally cast down to face him, and when he still looked so confused, you could only let out a sigh. "Because I am waiting for you, Eren."

You smiled wistfully, extending your hand for him to take. "What else could it be at this point?" He took it as he nodded at your answer. You helped him up, letting him stand by himself. And now as he looked around the endless clouds, he could finally embrace the fact that he was indeed — dead.

Anywhere he looked, he could only find the soft, white clouds refreshing the air. The colour was tinted orange as the sun in front of him shone like it would set anytime soon. But it had been perhaps minutes by now, and yet the colour never changed.

If he was finally here to feel his freedom, then he would take it. The world where he lived before was not his responsibility anymore. His friends had won, and it was not his place to ask for what happened next. Yes, he was ready to be free. But as he looked at you, he still had one, unanswered question that he needed to know.

"Hey, (Y/n)." He cleared his throat, melancholy striking his feature as your gaze met with his.

"Yes, Eren?"

How come you are here on his side? Why did you stay in this place alone just to wait for him? He killed you, why are you not running away? There was so much, so many questions that he never dared to ask you. But one, he needed to know the answer to this one question.

"Why don't you fight back when I try to kill you?"

You didn't flinch, you stood there with a neutral expression as if he just asked you if you had eaten before.

"Truthfully, Eren? I always thought that you were just trying to make me hate you. Looking at me with those cold eyes, tightening your grip like that." Your finger subconsciously went to your neck. "At first, I thought you were going to let me go at some point."

He could feel a lump start forming in his throat as he listened, tears were threatening to fall already. That was what you felt that night, you didn’t want to die. Of course, who in the right mind wanted to die? Let alone killed by someone that you loved.

"But as seconds passed and you were not loosening the grip, I understood." Then you continued, your hand now fell back to your side. Though, you still looked at him with earnestness written all over your face. "I understand that you had to kill me for a reason, that you knew it was for the best."

His breath hitched at your statement; which was supposed to make him feel guilty, to make him feel like he was not worthy of your faith. But with how there was no ill will nor sadness in your intonation, he couldn't feel any other feelings except — relief.

"So I believed in you, and I wanted you to know until the end that wherever I go next, I will always devote my heart to you."

You said it without doubt, as if you have been saying the same thing over and over again throughout your life. Yet somehow he could know that it was the truth. Perhaps you said that inside your heart for all the times that you spent with him.

While you still alive, you have put your faith in him, following him anywhere he goes. No one could sway your belief, you were devoted solely just to him. You praised his name, never leaving his side under any circumstances.

And he realised — that was the way you said you loved him.

So now, it was his time to do the same, to believe in you.

"Come on, Eren." You dusted the non-existent wrinkles on your clothes before extending your hand for him to take, a smile never leaving your face as you waited for him patiently. "Let's go home."

And without wasting another second, without any hesitation, he reached for your hand. The smile on your face widened at this, and the wind suddenly twirled around the two of you. He didn't know where home was, he didn't know where you would take him.

But as you started to walk in the direction of the sun, he followed. His eyes looked forward, dark green eyes turned into the emerald shade that was gone before. It was so beautiful, how he walked above the clouds, with your hand around his, guiding him to a new place called home.

Your laugh resonated in his ears as he caught up with you, gripping your hand tighter, afraid that he would lose you if he loosened up. Yet somehow he knew that he wouldn't have to be scared anymore.

Now he was finally free. From the burden on his shoulders, from the duty that was thrown at him by his ancestors, from the endless nightmare that he saw on each vision — it was all gone. And as his gaze fleeted toward your running form, he blinked in astonishment.

He saw you, a younger self of you perhaps, maybe when you were nine or ten. You looked beautiful, even with your hair slightly shorter, with chubby, adorable cheeks. Then you turned to face him, and he saw those glossy beads filled with purity.

And inside those, he saw a reflection. Of a boy not older than ten years old, with a brown outer and a sage green shirt, holding on to someone. Oh, it was him. He looked so free as he ran side by side with you, he looked so free with you leading him to his new home.

Laughter filled the air that surrounded you and him; high-pitched, carefree laughter that people would hear when children ran around the street to catch one another. That happy laugh slipped from both of your lips.

He held your hand tighter, not because he was afraid to lose you, but so he could feel your love even more. He ran with you faster, now becoming the one who followed you as he believed that you were going to take him somewhere, to the last destination.

A place where he could finally be free.

With you.

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Citizen; @queenofcurse

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

[pazumane-archive]

Closing Time - Asahi x Reader

Characters: Asahi Azumane, female reader, original female character, small Taichi cameo

Relationships: Asahi Azumane x Reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, SFW but 16+ please

Warnings: Alcohol, general drunken shenanigans, emetophobia (mentions of vomit), bad language

WC: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is a totally self-indulgent bedtime-scenario-type story because there is simply not enough Asahi/Reader content out there and I adore him. It’s also my first time writing in 2nd person, so PLEASE feel free to send me any feedback, please just be kind :) I really don’t like to use y/n, so I only used it a couple times towards the end when I wasn’t sure what else to do lol

The preview begins with the bolded text below and fic continues after the cut :)

Reblogs appreciated! <3

You weren’t planning on getting this drunk. But by the time it got to be about 11:30, you didn’t know what else to do. You had put so much effort and energy into making yourself look nice just for your date not to show up. Your roommate was out of town, so instead of going home and pouting, you figured you might as well have some fun while you were out. But you’ve never been good at exercising restraint, and the fact that you were alone wasn’t doing you any favors. But by closing time had rolled around, you could hardly see straight. You needed help, so you call upon an old friend.

“Do you have anybody you can call for a ride?” Kawanishi asks.

Kawanishi’s the bartender at this izakaya, and over the course of the night, you spent most of the time talking his ear off. He’s nice enough, and held pleasant conversation for the last few hours. He says he used to be a volleyball player, and had even played on the same team as a one of the guys on the Japan National Team. You forget to ask him which school he attended, but he probably was tired of talking to your drunk ass anyway, so you don’t bother asking. “Yeah,” you say, digging in your purse for your phone. “Are you sure? I can call a cab for you if you need it,” he offers. “Nah,” you say, hiccupping between words. “I’ll call somebody. Thank you though.” “No problem,” he says. “Just try to make it quick.” You scroll through your phone, trying to figure out who to call. Your roommate’s out of town visiting her parents, so she’s a no-go. You could call Kokomi. Honestly, she would deserve the 2AM phone call for setting you up on this failed blind date in the first place. Ever since you moved to Tokyo last month, she was constantly trying to set you up with somebody, whether it was a friend, a coworker, or some rando that she had met on the train. Unfortunately, all of them were jerks. And this one was the biggest jerk of all. You silently curse yourself for going along with her antics again.

“He’s great, you’ll love him!” “You said that about the last three guys you tried to set me up with, Kokomi.” “Please!! You’ll never know if you don’t even give him a chance.”

Well, you gave him a chance. And it ended up with you all alone, drunk as hell in an unfamiliar part of the city. You dial Kokomi’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Bitch,” you mutter. You unlock your phone again and look through to find somebody that might be able to take you home. You scroll back to the top of your contact list, and your eyes settle on another name. He lives just a few blocks away, and knowing him, he’s probably awake working on something anyway. You click on his contact and wait for him to answer.

*

The exhaustion’s starting to get to him. It’s the weekend and he can afford to stay up an extra couple of hours to finish this design, but the combination of fatigue and frustration are taking over. He sets down his pencil and moves towards his bed, until his cell starts to buzz. He glances over at the clock on the wall. 1:49 AM.

Who could possibly be calling at this hour?

Asahi picks up his phone, surprised to see your name on the screen. His heart skips a beat in his chest, both from excitement and nervousness. Aside from his teammates, you’re one of the only people he bothered to keep in contact with after high school. The two of you had even met up a few times since you moved to the city, but he never would have expected you to call at this hour unless… unless something is wrong. “Hey you, what’s up?” He says, choking back a yawn. “Hiiiii Asahiiii!  I tried to call Kokomi but she didn’t answer her phone… could you come pick me up?” Your voice is thick and your words are almost unintelligible as you speak. It’s obvious that you’re far from sober. “Where are you?” Asahi asks, failing to mask the anxiety in his voice. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” “M’fine,” you slur. “But I…” Suddenly the call drops. Asahi calls you back in a panic, his heart racing as he waited for you to answer. You could be in danger and he’d be powerless to help you. He doesn’t even know where you are. “Hello?” A man’s voice comes through the speaker. “Who are you? Where is she?” Asahi asks frantically. “Relax, man. I’m just the bartender,” he says. “Look, your friend’s next to me, but she’s on the verge of passing out. Can you come get her before she pukes all over my bar? She’s at Zoetrope. You know where that is?” “Of course, I’m on my way now! I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Asahi says, grabbing his apartment keys and putting on a pair of shoes. He’s out the door almost immediately.

*

Kawanishi presses your phone back into your hands. Your head is spinning so fast that you struggle to keep your eyes open. “Is he coming?” you ask. “Yeah, he’s on the way,” Kawanishi says. “He’ll be here soon. Now do me a favor, don’t get this drunk the next time you come into my izakaya or I’ll have to kick you out.” “You’re kicking me out???” “Only if you start throwing up,” he says under his breath. “I’m not going to throw up!” you exclaim, suddenly becoming very aware of the churning in your stomach. You grumble, slumping over the bar. You squeeze your eyes shut, the spinning in your head only getting worse with every breath you take. You feel like you’re going to die, and honestly, between the embarrassment of being stood up and the wave of nausea coming over you, you’re ready to welcome that death with open arms. “Hey!” Kawanishi says, smacking the bar next to your head. “Your friend’s going to be here soon, don’t fall asleep or I’ll throw you out on the street myself.” “I’m sorry, Kawanishi-san.” You sit up slowly and cradle your head in your hands once more, trying to make the world stop spinning.

Please get here soon, Asahi.

*

Asahi sprints down the street as fast as he can towards the izakaya. He’s sure that he looks suspicious running down the street alone at night, but he doesn’t care. You’re in trouble, and he’s the only person that can help you. He finally makes it to the bar and hastily pulls the door open. You’re dressed beautifully, and your makeup and hair are exquisitely done. Unfortunately, the way you’re slumped over the bar makes it obvious that something’s wrong. He’s not sure what happened, but whatever it was, it must have been rough. The bartender gently helps you out of your seat, and Asahi can’t help but think that he looks very familiar. You straighten up and as soon as you make eye contact with Asahi, you perk up. “Asahi-san!” you exclaim, rushing towards him and almost falling over. You crush him in an unexpectedly tight hug. “Long time no see, big guy!” “I saw you three days ago,” he says under his breath. You continue babbling unintelligibly, and Asahi looks up at the bartender. “Did she close out her tab?” Asahi asks. “I took care of it already,” the bartender replies. “Please just make sure she gets home okay. She’s had a rough night.” “Yeah, of course,” Asahi says. “Thanks for helping her out.” “No problem.” Asahi peels your arms off him and starts to nudge you towards the door. Just before the two of you leave, Asahi stops and turns back to the bartender. “Have we met before?” he asks. “I played for Shiratorizawa. Didn’t think I’d see you again, Karasuno Samurai.” Asahi frowns slightly. He hasn’t heard that nickname high school, and it’s weird hearing it again now. “Right,” he says. “Well, thanks again. Have a good night.” Asahi leads you out of the bar and down the sidewalk. You hold tightly to his arm, stumbling over yourself. He braces you against his side, and you take this opportunity to tease him a little bit. “Do you like my outfit, Asahi-san?” you ask, pressing into his side. “Yeah, it’s really nice!” he answers nervously, turning his head to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He’s not lying – you look beautiful, both your top and your skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. But it would be wrong to say anything more than that while you’re in this state. That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. He brusquely clears his throat and keeps walking as soon as the light signals that you can cross. “I dressed up extra nice tonight, but it didn’t even fucking matter,” you grumble, your voice breaking slightly. Asahi either doesn’t hear you, or does hear you and decides not to say anything. “I’m soooo glad you’re here,” you say, drawing out your words even longer than you were a minute ago. “I’m sorry, this is super embarrassing! I should’ve figured this out on my own.” “It’s okay,” Asahi says. “How long have you been in Tokyo again?” “A month? I think?” “Exactly,” he says. “You probably don’t know your way around that much. I’d feel terrible if I wasn’t able to help you find your way home.” “Meh,” you say. “I’ve had the worst night of my fucking life, so maybe it would be better if I passed out in a ditch somewhere.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Asahi asks. “No,” you answer quickly. “Okay.” You start blathering again and Asahi has to practically drag you down the street behind him. The station just past his apartment has a train that can drop you right by your building. He can just take a cab back after he gets you home. He considers inviting you stay the night at his place since it’s right there, but he’s afraid of being weird, so he doesn’t say anything. The two of you come to a stop at the train station… which is closed. “I’m sorry,” Asahi says remorsefully. “I guess the train stopped running at midnight. I’ll call you a cab.” He goes to pull his phone out of his pocket, but you grab his hand before he can. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask sheepishly. “I… my roommate is out of town. And I’m really not doing good right now. I just really don’t want to be alone.” Despite how out of it you’ve been since he picked you up, Asahi sees nothing but complete sincerity in your eyes. Tonight must have been really rough. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’ll just sleep on the couch- or a futon if you have one!” you say, nodding. “Okay.” Asahi turns back towards his apartment and you follow closely behind him, not letting go of his hand the entire time.

*

Asahi helps you across the threshold of his apartment and sits you down on a chair by the door. “Asahi-san, you’re so handsome with your hair down like that,” you say, reaching up to twirl a finger in his long chestnut tresses. “And you’re loopy,” Asahi mutters, disentangling your fingers from his hair. Once again, he finds himself hiding a blush. He’s not used to being showered with compliments, and he knows you wouldn’t be saying this stuff if you were sober. He kicks off his shoes and kneels down in front of you, helping you take yours off. “How are you feeling?” he asks you. “Can I get you some water or a some–” “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in high school?” you ask suddenly. “I think I made it pretty obvious that I had a crush on you. It’s all I could think about when you were holding my hand back there.” “I – I, uh,” Asahi stammers. You burst out laughing, startling Asahi. It’s that same boisterous laugh you’ve had for as long as he could remember knowing you. You were always self-conscious about it in high school, but your laugh has always been one of Asahi’s favorite things about you. Despite the fact that it’s at his expense, he’s glad to see your mood improve. Asahi considers your question for a moment. He really liked you too back then, and everyone knew it. Suga and Daichi constantly teased him for it.

So why hadn’t he asked you out back then?

Well, for a number of reasons. He spent so much of his third year focused on volleyball that he didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for much else. He hadn’t even planned on going back to school after graduation until Nishinoya helped convince him to pursue his passions. He felt directionless, and he didn’t want to burden anybody else with his indecision. But most importantly, he was scared you’d reject him. Suga was right. He really was a coward. He’d dated a few people since high school graduation, but none of them made him feel the way you did, and they didn’t treat him as well as you would have. Which begs the question – why hasn’t he asked you out since you moved to Tokyo? He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. This isn’t the kind of conversation to be having when you aren’t even able to form a coherent sentence. Asahi’s thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his shoulder and a loud hiccup. “I should wash my face. Can I wash my face?” “Sure,” Asahi says, helping you stand up. You stumble forward, but he catches you easily and pulls you back to your feet. He quietly leads you to the bathroom and sits you down on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m a mess.” “No, you’re not. Hold on a second,” he says, opening the drawer under the sink. He pulls out a small package of makeup wipes and takes one out. He kneels in front of you and begins wiping the makeup off your face. “I know they’re not great for your skin,” he says. “But it’s better than nothing, right?” “Why do you even have those?” you ask between hiccups. “Do you wear makeup? I mean, it’s obviously fine if you do, but it doesn’t really seem like your thing.” “I don’t, but you never know when they’ll come in handy! I do work with a lot of makeup artists,” he says, somewhat defensively. You get the sense that he’s lying about something, but Asahi changes the subject before you can probe him any further. “So what were you doing there by yourself?” he asks. “It’s not safe to be alone so late at night.” Clearly this was the wrong thing to ask. All the negative emotions and thoughts you were having all even spring to the forefront of your mind, and you start to cry. Asahi starts apologizing profusely, but you wave him off. “It’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Kokomi was trying to set me up with one of her friends, but he never showed up.” Asahi sits back on his heels. Kokomi is another girl from Karasuno that ended up in Tokyo. She wasn’t in the same class as him, but he remembers how loud she always was in the hallways. Honestly, both of you were always loud, but you’ve always been much more considerate of others than Kokomi ever was. “Shit,” he mumbles. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” “Yeah. It does suck.” Asahi grabs another wipe and asks you to close your eyes. You do as he says, and he lightly wipes off your eye makeup. He’s worked with enough models to recognize that you’re wearing false eyelashes, so he gently pulls those off too. You feel yourself start to wobble on the edge of the tub, so you grip his arm to steady yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me.” “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” you ask suddenly. “Wait, what?” “I just… this keeps happening to me. Everyone always says that it’s because they’re not the right person for me, but it’s starting to feel like there’s just something wrong with me instead,” you say, choking back a sob. “I know I just moved here, but I’m just so lonely. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough.” Asahi tenderly wipes a tear from your cheek and cups your face in both hands. “Hey, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you,” he says sincerely. “That guy is an idiot and a jerk. If he had any idea how extraordinary you are, he never would’ve done that to you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You don’t feel like you deserve to be spoken to like this – with such genuine kindness and sincerity. Asahi makes you feel so good. So special. He always has. And he’s just so… tender, especially for somebody who looks as intimidating as he does. You wonder if those feelings from high school ever truly went away. You sit up straighter and try to smile at him, but your stomach flips unexpectedly and violently. “Asahi-san?” you ask, gripping his shoulder tightly. “Yeah?” he replies. “Toilet.” Asahi moves out of the way as fast as possible. You hunch over the rim and retch into the toilet bowl. Asahi quickly scoops up your hair and holds it behind your head as you throw up. “Please, just leave me,” you mutter. “I’m gonna fucking die here.” “I’m not going to leave you here and you’re not going to die,” Asahi says, gingerly picking up the last loose strands laying on your neck and holding them back with the rest of your hair. Your back tenses up again before you begin heaving once more. Asahi tucks his nose into the collar of his shirt, careful to make sure that he’s out of your field of vision. He wants to be there for you but he had a weak stomach himself and the sight and smell of somebody else’s vomit is something he knows he won’t be able to handle. You mumble weak apologies between hacks, but Asahi just ignores them and rubs your back gently. After what feels like an eternity, the churning in your stomach finally stops and you reach up towards the flush handle. The exhaustion in your body and heart finally begin to catch up with you, and your hand falls back to your side. “I got it. Do you think you’re done?” Asahi asks, coaxing you back up into a seated position. You nod, too tired to try to speak. Asahi quickly tugs his shirt back down from his face before you can see and closes the toilet lid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Don’t be,” Asahi says, flushing the toilet. “I’m your friend. I want to help you. And I’ve already told you that you don’t need to apologize to me.” Asahi helps you sit on the top of the toilet and rises to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, scurrying out of the room. Although your eyes are closed, you still feel your body swaying. More than anything, you just want to go to sleep. Asahi pads back into the room and presses a wooden cup into your hands. “Drink this,” he says, turning on the faucet. Even though drinking something is the last thing you want to be doing right now, you go ahead and lift the cup to your open mouth. Cold water passes your lips and washes away some of the disgusting taste in your mouth. It feels gross, but you force yourself to drink all of it. Asahi takes the cup from your hand and turns the faucet back off. You flinch at the feeling of a damp washcloth on your face. “It’s okay,” Asahi says gently, cradling your chin with his free hand and angling your face up. “Just cleaning you up a little.” You murmur in acknowledgement and Asahi continues to wipe your face down. You almost fall asleep sitting on his toilet, but he gently shakes you to keep you awake. “Stay with me for another minute,” he says softly. “You can go to sleep soon. You’re gonna be just fine. I promise.” His words and his voice are so sweet that you want to cry. A couple rogue tears drip from your eyes and onto his hands. “I’m sorry,” you say once more. Asahi sets the washcloth on the counter and starts to pull you to your feet. You struggle to stay on your feet, so instead, he carefully scoops you into his arms and carries you out the bathroom. You don’t care where you go, you just need to sleep. Asahi’s pretty certain you’re asleep by the time he deposits you on his mattress. Your chest rises and falls slowly as he pulls his duvet over you. He begins to make his way to the couch, but stops when he feels you grab his hand. “Please don’t go, Asahi-san,” you whisper. “Please.” You tug harder at his fingers and he knows he can’t refuse you. He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed holding your hand until you fall asleep.

*

As soon as your quiet snores permeate the silence, Asahi untangles his fingers from yours. He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face and he can’t help but let his eyes linger on your sleeping face for just a moment. The moonlight trickling through the window illuminates your hair and casts a silvery glow on your skin. Despite the awful night you’ve had, you look absolutely radiant. He feels himself blushing again, but he takes some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have to try and hide it this time. Not while you’re fast asleep in his bed. He’s far too scared to admit it, even to himself, but he’s fantasized about falling asleep next to you many times before. But in those fantasies you weren’t drunk and crying over another man. Asahi sighs, stands up, and moves over to the dresser as quietly as he can. After setting a few things out for you, he goes into the bathroom, gets ready for bed and heads to the couch for the night.

*

By the time you wake up in the morning, you feel like you’re going to die. You can’t remember what exactly happened the previous night. The last thing you remember clearly was talking to the bartender about high school volleyball, of all things. Your head’s pounding, and your stomach aches painfully, screaming at you to please eat something. You don’t open your eyes, fearing that it would somehow trigger another round of vomiting. Eventually, you force yourself into a seated position and open your eyes. The bedroom you’re in is small, but pretty well-decorated. It’s decently tidy. The only mess is a few crumpled up clothing designs discarded on the floor next to the trash bin.

Designs? Did that mean?

You’re at Asahi’s apartment. In his bed. Your eyes widen in panic.

  What happened last night?

You’re still wearing the clothes that you wore to the bar last night. And there’s no evidence of him ever being in bed with you. You reach over towards your phone, which has been graciously plugged in for you and set on the bedside table. That’s when you notice the note along with a sleeve of crackers and a glass of ginger ale.

Good morning!

There’s a set of clothes you can wear at the foot of the bed and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Feel free to take a shower if you want. Extra towels are underneath the sink. Please have something to eat and drink too. You’ll feel better if you do.

-Asahi

P.S. Please don’t feel bad. It’s okay.

You grab a few of the crackers from the bedside table and eat them, washing them down with the ginger ale.

Why does Asahi have to be so damn considerate? The whole situation is so embarrassing.

You contemplate just grabbing your phone and getting the hell out of his apartment, but you’re not going to pass up the opportunity to shower. You finish the last of the crackers, chug down the ginger ale, and grab the spare clothes at the end of the bed. You turn the doorknob as silently as you can and awkwardly creep down the hall towards the bathroom, stopping briefly to peek in the living room. Asahi’s fast asleep on the couch, clad only in pajama pants and a pair of fuzzy socks. His hair is down and messily splayed across the throw pillow he’s resting his head on. Quiet snores pass his lips. He looks cute. Your eyes trail from his face and down to his stomach. Despite quitting volleyball after high school, he seems to have mostly maintained his athletic form, except for a tiny little layer of pudge on his lower stomach. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile, until that little voice in the back of your mind reminds you of your place.

Quit staring, you perv! You need to get out of here!

You hurriedly continue down the hallway and jump into the shower as soon as you get into the bathroom. You think that maybe if you clean up fast enough, you can get out of Asahi’s apartment before he wakes up. However, as soon as you step into the shower, all worries about rushing out disappear into the back of your mind. You bask in the hot water, the steam clearing your sinuses and relieving some of the pain in your head. You silently thank the gods that Asahi actually uses conditioner, and not just 3-in-1 like most of the other men you were previously…. acquainted with. Although, it makes sense to you that somebody with hair like Asahi’s would have a strict haircare routine. As you shower, fragmented memories of last night start to come back to you.

Being stood up at the bar. Calling Asahi for help. Puking your guts out in his bathroom. Him carrying you into his room and laying you down on his bed. Him staying by your side until you fell asleep. You wishing he would’ve crawled into bed with you and held you through the night… Wait, what was that last part?

As soon as you’re done rinsing the conditioner from your hair, you step out of the shower and swiftly towel off. You find the spare toothbrush Asahi mentioned, take it out of the packaging, and brush your teeth with his toothpaste. The dry, gross feeling in your mouth is quickly replaced with a minty fresh taste. You slip on the sweatpants and t-shirt that Asahi left for you and dry your hair. Thankfully, Asahi isn’t as huge as most people make him out to be, so while the clothes he left out are a bit big on you, you’re not drowning in them. You’ll just bring them back some other day. You start combing through your hair, and that’s when you hear it – the sound of somebody padding around in the apartment. Shit. Once the footsteps quiet down, you rush out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Asahi eyes you as you scoop up your shoes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Good morning!” he says kindly. “How are you feeling?” “I’m so sorry Azumane-san, it won’t happen again!” you say as you throw open the door and rush into the hallway. “Hold on, wait up!” he says as you pull the door closed behind you. You run all the way to the stairs at the end of the hallway and go to call Kokomi for a ride home. That’s when you realize that your phone is still plugged into the wall in Asahi’s room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You turn around and trudge back towards his apartment. Before you can even knock, the door opens slowly. Asahi stands there in just his pajama pants, holding your phone out to you. “You shouldn’t leave without your phone,” he says. You thank him and take your phone, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You try not to stare at his bare chest, already feeling like a creep for ogling him while he was sleeping. “Your clothes are still in the bathroom, too,” he says. “I can go get them for you. Or I can just wash them and give them back to you another time if you want to leave.” “No, that’s okay,” you say, covering your flushing cheeks with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll get them. Can I come in?” “Of course.” Asahi steps out of your way and you head straight for the bathroom, avoiding looking in his eyes. Asahi never gets angry, and you know he wouldn’t be mad at you over something like this, but a lingering sense of shame still washes over you. You scoop up your clothes and leave the bathroom. As soon as you cross the threshold into the living room, the smell of coffee and frying fish washes over you. Asahi stands in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. In the time that you were in the bathroom, he put on a Black Jackals sweatshirt and threw his hair into a loose bun. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks, smiling at you and pouring his own cup. “It’ll help with the hangover.” You stand there and ponder his offer for a moment. Sensing your hesitancy, Asahi suddenly turns back to the stove and mumbles something that you can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” you ask. Asahi rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had since you were kids. “I don’t mean to pressure you to stay or anything! I just thought it might help for you to have something more than crackers and ginger ale.” “You’ve done plenty to help me since last night,” you say. “But I’ll take that coffee if the offer is still on the table.” “It is!” Asahi says a little too enthusiastically for his own good. You can’t help but smirk as you take your seat at the kitchen table. Asahi pours you a cup of coffee and slides you a bowl of the rice and fish he made. You thank him quietly and start to eat. He slides into the chair across from you and eats his own breakfast, eyeing you carefully. “What?” you ask after catching him staring. “Since when have you ever called me Azumane-san?” he asks. “I don’t know,” you mumble into your coffee mug. “I didn’t think we reverted back from first name basis,” he says. “I thought we knew each other better than that.” “I don’t know,” you say, a devilish smile crossing your face. “Care to explain why you actually had those makeup wipes in your bathroom drawer? I doubt your makeup artists are coming over to your apartment.” Now it’s Asahi’s turn to blush again. “My ex-girlfriend left them here,” he says. “Felt like a waste to just throw them out.” “Ex-girlfriend?!” you exclaim suddenly, startling Asahi and causing him to drop the wipe on the floor. “I didn’t know you were seeing somebody!” “Yeah,” he says, throwing the wipe in the trash and grabbing a fresh one. “We broke up a while before you moved to the city. She left a bunch of her stuff here and refused to come pick it up. I think she was just too embarrassed to see me again. I got rid of most of it a while ago, but I kept some of the more… uh, utilitarian things.” “I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “Why did you break up?” Asahi feels a slight pang in his chest. He met his last girlfriend through his job. She was nice enough, and things seemed like they were going okay until he showed up at her apartment to surprise her for their 6 month anniversary, only to find another man in her bed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. “It’s fine. She cheated on me with some other guy,” he says, his expression darkening. “I think they’re engaged now.” “Shit,” you say. “What a bitch.” “Woah, settle down, it’s okay –” “No, it’s not,” you say firmly. “You deserve someone way better than that. Somebody that treats you with the love and respect that you deserve.” Asahi knows you’re right, but he doesn’t really want to press it. That whole mess had done a number on his mental health, and he really doesn’t want to burden you with his emotional baggage. He adjusts his glasses again and forces a smile. “You know, you should really take your own advice,” he says. You try to think back on what you had said to him last night. The details are fuzzy, but you remember crying. A lot. Instead of answering him, you shovel down the last of the rice and fish. “Thank you for the meal,” you say. Asahi smiles and nods at you before beginning to clear the dishes away. You stand up and stop him, insisting that you clean up yourself. As you finish drying the bowls, your phone buzzes. You check it, only to see a handful of missed texts from Kokomi.

Ono Kokomi [8:32} Hey!! Sorry I missed your call. How was he?  (°◡°♡) [9:14] That good?  (^.~)☆ [9:18] Or that bad?! (;;;*_*) [9:57] HELLO?? (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ [10:32] ARE YOU ALIVE?!?!?!  〣( ºΔº )〣

You roll your eyes and quickly type out your response.

Y/N [10:33] Yeah, no thanks to you. (￢_￢;)

Ono Kokomi [10:34] Was it really that bad?

Y/N [10:34] He didn’t even show up. (╥_╥) [10:34] Azumane picked me up at 2 AM because I was too drunk to go home alone. I stayed the night at his place. [10:34] Speaking of which, can you come pick me up? Not really in a state to take the train and I think you owe me one.

Ono Kokomi [10:35] (⊙_⊙) [10:35] Spill. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Y/N [10:36] There’s nothing to spill. I threw up in his bathroom and he slept on the couch. Can you just answer my question please? (҂` ﾛ ´)凸

Ono Kokomi [10:36] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on my way, lovebird. (￣ε￣＠)

“Everything okay?” Asahi asks. “Yeah,” you say, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Kokomi’s going to come pick me up.” “Are you sure? I can take you if you want,” he offers. “Yeah, she’s already on her way,” you say, setting the bowl down and turning to face him. “Besides, you’ve done more than enough for me already over the last twelve hours.” You silently pick up your things and walk towards the door. Asahi rises from his chair and awkwardly clears his throat. “Do you have all your stuff?” You nod and smile. Before you open the door, you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. He shyly hugs you back, hoping you can’t hear the rapid pounding in his chest. “Thank you, Asahi,” you whisper. “You’re amazing.” You let go first and leave his apartment quietly. As soon as the door closes, Asahi walks back into the living room and flops down on the couch. He covers his face with his hands and groans. This morning was almost too much for him – seeing you in his clothes, eating breakfast together, you hugging him before you left. It was all so painfully domestic, and he wishes it didn’t have to end. If only he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve asked you to stay longer. He doesn’t know how long he lays there until he finally decides to get moving for the day and finish that piece he was working on when you called last night. He checks his phone and sees your name pop up on the screen.

Y/N [11:00] I’m home. Thanks again for babysitting me last night. Whatever did I do to deserve you as my guardian angel? ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ [11:00] Or was that Noya-san? I forget. (^ω~)

Azumane Asahi [11:01] Lol. You’re welcome. And that was what we called Noya in our club days, but I don’t mind you calling me that too (* ^ ω ^)

Y/N [11:03] Let me make it up to you. [11:04] Come over for dinner tomorrow night?

Asahi almost drops his phone on his face. His fingers fumble as he types his response. He waits a moment before sending it, rereading it ten times to make sure he doesn’t come across as desperate.

Azumane Asahi [11:07] I’d love to. Do you want me to bring anything?

Y/N [11:08] That’s not necessary. I owe you a nice dinner. [11:09] You still like tonkotsu ramen?

Azumane Asahi [11:10] I do!

Y/N [11:11] It’s a date! See you tomorrow! (☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

*

“You said nothing happened last night,” Kokomi says, staring over your shoulder at your phone. “Nothing happened, Kokomi. Now leave me alone,” you snap, tossing one of your throw pillows at her. She deftly catches it and plops down on the couch next to you. “Please,” she says, swatting you with the pillow. “The only reason you two haven’t gotten together is because you’re the densest people on the planet. I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” “Shut up,” you grumble. Kokomi’s phone rings and she quickly checks it. “Anyway, I have to go meet Kaito,” she says. “Got to go. Let me know how your date goes!” She waves and practically skips out the front door. You lay down and start making a shopping list for ingredients for tonkatsu ramen. As soon as you’re done, you set your phone down and cross your arms over your face.

“I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” No, Kokomi. That’s me.

[bokutoslittlebird]

UHMMM EXCUSE ME BUT BOKUTO X ONEE-SAN IS JUST 😳🥵. I'm a different anon from the last one but omg, is it okay to ask more??? Maybe an MSBY Bokuto now or idk what if his onee-san finally gets pregnant (if you're okay with that). Thank yoy so much!

I got like four fics where the reader ends up pregnant I’m definitely fine with writing pregnancy lmao I’ve looked it up so many times I have a notebook of pregnancy symptoms and baby delivery. I do need to start writing down baby names tho bc my computer keeps asking me when I’m expecting

Mission : Corrupting Onee-san ; Bokuto, part 3

Kōtarō was a bit upset a week after the.. incident. You weren’t showing any common signs of pregnancy.

He researched it at least six different times, expecting to match something in your behavior to one of them. Each time he realized you weren’t pregnant, it was hard on you. Well, he was hard on you. Forcing his cock into you while you thrashed and tried to get him off, only to be met with the brick wall that is your little brother. He hardly even noticed you, often off in his own delusions until after he spilled his load into you. Even then, your fucked out face and overstimulated hole always had him raring to go again, this time with his focus on how good you made him feel.

With it being a month into his stay at your house, you wondered if your family would get suspicious about it. When he told you he’d be trying out for the MSBY Black Jackals, it fell into place. That’s why he was staying at your house, with the added bonus of being there if you needed anything. From someone else’s perspective, it would seem like he was a golden child with a heart of gold. In your eyes, you just saw a monster with a goal and determination to see the goal through. Kōtarō never shied from any questions your son had, either. Answering every question quickly and maturely, as if he knew the kid would ask it. He’s able to manipulate you and your son but you can’t do anything to stop him, not when he holds power over you.

Kazuki loves his uncle, his Oji-san a lot. You know he does. He’s always enjoyed visiting your parents’ house to see Kōtarō who would tell him stories, but you find he often lets his adoration for Kōtarō blind him. In his eyes, Kōtarō is a perfect human being and can do no wrong.

“Oji-san?” Kazuki’s little head pops up from under the table. You jump at his sudden appearance, especially if he came from under the table. With Kōtarō having you firmly placed on his lap, you wonder how your son would see the situation.

“Yeah, squirt?” He still smiled at Kazuki, not seeing anything wrong with the situation. Not seeing anything wrong with the way he has a steel grip on your hips and keeps rubbing his hardening cock into your clothed pussy.

“When you both go to bed, why does mommy scream?” Your eyes widen at his question, panicking. How do you answer that? He’s so young—

“Oh! Mommy has some bad nightmares, but it’s okay! I’m there to take care of her!” Kōtarō wraps his arms around your middle, warm hands sliding along your stomach. “Isn’t that right, mommy?”

“Yes, Kōtarō, it—“ your words were interrupted with a shriek, feeling Kōtarō pinch the skin on your hips.

“Mommy, are you okay?!”

“Yes, dear. I’m fine. Uh, daddy just startled me, that’s all.” With the new situation and lack of anyone else, Kōtarō wanted to fully move into the ideal family life. Including his title. Kazuki didn’t bat an eyelash, just nodding and eagerly going to play with his toys. A present from Kōtarō.

“We talked about that, nee-san,” Kōtarō’s breath tickled your ear, a warm tongue licking the shell of it. A shiver went down your spine, feeling his bulge get harder underneath you. “Kazuki needs to see me as a father figure now. Especially since he’ll have a baby brother soon,”

“What makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?”

“I have faith. Need strong boys to protect mommy while daddy’s busy at work,” the talk of you having his offspring has him raring to go, a dark cloud covering his eyes as he ruts up against you. You find yourself face down on the dinner table while Kōtarō eagerly strips off your panties and your jeans. It’s nothing for him to pull his cock out of his sweats, eagerly rubbing the mushroom tip against your folds. Even if your mind and heart don’t want it, that doesn’t stop the slick from pooling into your panties and coating your folds. Your hole is nice and wet for him, ready for his fat cock to split you open.

“Kō, we- we can’t! Zuki-“

“If you keep quiet, he won’t know,” he hisses in your ear, his hand digging into the fat of your ass. It’s a warning to be quiet. Kōtarō usually enjoys your voice, how you scream and beg when he’s filled you to the brim, but now he needs you to be quiet since you’re on the table.

Pushing his cock into you is something he’ll never get tired of. He loves the warm feeling of your cunt and how tight your walls are around him, you’re all sticky and wet, allowing him to slide right in. He doesn’t stop, not for a moment, feeling you holding back your moans as he bottoms out. Even with your hesitance, your body knows he makes you feel good. It has him slapping his hips to your ass while he cages you to the table, pressing you down with his chest. Your nails scratch the table, trying to find something to hold on to when his hands snake up under them, squeezing while he rams into you. It’s enough to squeeze his hands while he brings you to an orgasm, his balls slapping against your clit while your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.

“K-Kō-chan, I-“

“I’m almost there, hold on, baby,” he whispers, his mouth right next to your ear. You don’t know whether he’s talking to you or the possibility of a child resulting in this, but you find his hips stuttering, a low groan as he stills inside you. Your walls milk him dry, another orgasm as you coat him in your own release. He doesn’t pull out, keeping still inside you while you both come down your high.

“It’s Kazuki’s bedtime. I need to tuck him in,” You break the silence, squirming as the feeling of Kōtarō’s cock in you, and his cum, has become awkward.

“I’ll do it,” he presses a kiss to your hair, removing himself from you. He’s quick to pull your panties and jeans back up, keeping his cum from mostly coming out. “After all, I gotta be a good dad, don’t I?”

With Kōtarō constantly leaving the house for practice with the Black Jackals, he leaves you alone. Taking care of Kazuki was your only chore, really. With Kōtarō earning plenty of money and you having the insurance money from your recently deceased husband and daughter, you were not financially unstable. Most of your money had gone to special pills to prevent pregnancy, making sure you had one each time after Kōtarō spilled inside you. Labeled as vitamins, you easily took them all the time in front of Kōtarō as he didn’t bat an eye. They seemed to work, suspending the pregnancy as each day you turned out and took the test, only one line popping up.

You thought you were safe.

When your vitamins went missing, you didn’t know where to turn. After the table sex and the bedtime routine, you needed those pills. Looking through each cabinet, you couldn’t find it. When you asked Kazuki, he seemed innocent enough. The only possibility was that Kōtarō had found out and taken them out. You had to wait until he returned from practice before you could confront him.

When he finally popped through the door, Kazuki went to go hug him. “Oji-san!”

“Hey, hey, hey! We talked about that, squirt,” a darkness looms in his eyes, but his smile is bright and blinding.

“Sorry, daddy. I’m not used to it,” he looks downright guilty, as if he did something wrong. Kōtarō’s big hand plops on top of Kazuki’s head.

“It’s alright. You’ll get used to it eventually, especially once you have a little brother,”

“I’m gonna have a little brother?!” Bouncing on his feet, Kazuki turned to you. The smile you sported was more of a cringe, but you nodded.

“That’s the plan. Daddy, can we talk?” Kōtarō eagerly follows you, handing a new toy to Kazuki as if he doesn’t have over 20 new toys. Kōtarō doesn’t stop in front of you, rather hugging you close to him as you feel his hardened cock rubbing against your leg. “Kōtarō we need to talk. About serious stuff.”

“If it’s about those Plan B pills, I flushed them down the toilet,”

“Wha- flushed? Those were my vitamins!”

“You aren’t taking anything that risks serious health problems if you don’t take it. Not only that, you’re not under any prescription medications. From now on,” he says, voice low and commanding. Pulling from you, you look into his eyes to see something sinister in them, as if his delusion is becoming tangible. “You’ll be taking what I give to you. No more caffeine, no more wine before bed, yes I know you drink a glass while getting ready, and no more vitamins without my permission. After all, our future is dependent on this.”

With his declaration of claiming you, officially deciding to prevent anything that could stand in his way, you felt sick as you took another test, the single line being joined by a matching one. You couldn’t hide it, you couldn’t throw it away, he’d know the truth regardless. You always showed him negative results, so the test going missing would mean he knew it was positive. Kōtarō waits on your bed — his, too, now — as you weigh your options. With shaky hands, you open the bathroom door as he perks up, his face smiling as if he knew the answer already. With his hair down and still damp from the bath, you see how attractive he is, his muscles flexing as he gets up to see the result. Showing him the plastic piece, he can’t hide his excitement.

“I’m gonna be a dad! You’re gonna be a mommy! Well, we are, but this time for reals!” He’s so excited, it’s easy to find yourself smiling with him, caught up in the excitement. When he puts you down, it’s on the bed and he’s quickly crawling to cage you in. “I say this is cause for a celebration.”

“Kōtarō, what about mom? And dad? And our sisters? They’ll find out eventually, won’t they? We’ll be disowned,” your panicked voice stops him, straddling you as his hand goes to his chin. As if he’s thinking.

“Well, lets just cut ties with them. I’m a member of one of Japan’s Division 1 volleyball teams. I make enough money for us to be stable comfortably, not to mention the money you have from insurance. That way,” he licks his lips, leaning over you again, “I can have you all to myself,”