#and on my birthday too? fucking rude as hell

[tiffanylamps]

after three years, the 'vid finally got me

[bruciemilf]

Alfred honestly can’t say shit about Bruce bringing in strays, because what if the Waynes got him the same way?

I genuinely can’t recall HOW Alfred, British special forces extraordinaire, ended up working for Gotham’s (scary) sweethearts.

In my mind, he came to them bleeding.

There’s a tang of bitterness pooling in his gut. Soldiers don’t have friends. They have guns. And he’s all out.

Just when Alfred thought all is in peril, a tiny little hand gently covers a nasty bullet hole on his abdomen.

The first thing Alfred thinks about is: ‘Jesus, this kid has scary eyes.’

“Hi, Alfred.”

“…How do you—“

“Bruce! Jesus FUCKING Christ, I swear, I’m not paying for your ransom next time you run o—…What the fuck is that?”

If there’s one thing about Thomas that Alfred will never forget is his voice; The bass , so chasmic and powerful it could shake the whole world, and the burning care in his eyes despite his vulgarity.

Bruce, — who’s the tiniest bundle of a boy Alfred witnessed, is yanked up by his father’s strong hands, squeezed to his chest carefully. “Hurt,” he says. There’s a tiny, red handprint on Thomas’ shirt.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice,” Thomas mumbling, looking around.

Maybe local gangs? The bullet point is too precise, too calculated. “Who the hell are you?”

Alfred, with his raspy breath, says, “I’m the terribly rude bloke dying on your doorstep, I’m afraid. Alfred Pennyworth. At your service.”

For a guy who’s about to bleed his last, he sounds awfully sarcastic.

“Yeah, wise guy, no one’s dying on my kid’s birthday. Bruce, tell Dotty to prep up the basement. And tell your mama to get my Budlight out of the cooler. Jesus Christ.”

Alfred ends up hoisted on this man’s back. Thomas asks if he has anyone he wants to call? Anyone that’ll come pick him up? Anyone to bury him, if it comes to it.

Alfred whispers he does not.

Thomas sighs. “Well. Kid‘a been asking for a playmate.”

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 SOMETIMES ALL I THINK ABOUT IS YOU (LATE NIGHTS IN THE MIDDLE OF JUNE)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: realizing you have no idea when dazai's birthday is, you and chuuya embark on a massive quest to figure it out. and you do—but you also find out something far more worrying in the process, making you question if you ever really knew dazai osamu. the issue? you have no way of bringing it up to him. but you'll have to worry about that later anyway. first things first: you have to plan a birthday that dazai will never forget. {sfw, 14.8k}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: AHHHHHHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BOYYYYYYYY im so proud of how this fic came out genuinely its my favorite thing ive written to date. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (warnings: fem!reader, mostly fluff with some angst sprinkled in at the beginning and end)

“Hey, do you know when Dazai’s birthday is?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, do you ever stop thinking about him?”

Your jaw drops as Chuuya lets out the loud complaint, head snapping to the side to focus on where he’s sitting in the chair at the tattoo parlor near headquarters, cheek pressed against the headrest, glaring at you as the artist continues to work on the right half of his upper back, finishing up the last section of the art spanning across his entire back. It’s his biggest one yet, you can hardly see an inch of unmarked skin—bright reds of camellia flowers and different types of animals and objects centered around the skull of a ram decorate his back. It’s beautiful, you have to acknowledge that, you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a stunning tattoo before and Chuuya is beyond pleased with how it’s turning out considering how he’s constantly pulling off his shirt to look at it in a mirror whenever he gets the chance.

To honor the Flags, he’d told you when he dragged you along for the first session. You didn’t know most of them—you’d worked with Lippmann a few times considering his job within the Mafia, and you’d met with Iceman to give him the rundown on targets that needed to be handled when Mori would send him to you in Kyoto, but that was about the extent of your interaction with them. Chuuya’d been closer to them—he didn’t like to talk about them at first, but he’s gradually been more and more open with it.

You think it’s because he’s afraid of forgetting them.

“You’re an asshole,” you snap after getting over the shock of his rude comment, turning your head away to look out the window.

Dazai evades the two of you whenever Chuuya has one of his sessions scheduled. You think it’s kind of funny, honestly; you know he does it because he hates pain and he knows that if he joins you guys, Chuuya will somehow goad him into getting a tattoo with a dare or a challenge that he won’t be able to back down from. So, instead, he makes excuses for missions that you both know damn well he doesn’t have.

“No, I don’t know,” he finally says irritably. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

You give him an appalled look. “He’s your friend, and your partner. What do you mean you don’t know?”

“That bastard is not my friend,” Chuuya instantly hisses, but you can’t help but notice that he suddenly looks troubled by the realization that he doesn’t know Dazai’s birthday.

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes, knowing damn well that it’s a blatant lie. “That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Is not,” Chuuya spits.

“Is too.” 

Chuuya would have kept going with the back and forth, but he’s given a sharp look by the tattoo artist working on his shoulder and he settles down, but not before shooting you one last withering look.

“I bet he knows your birthday,” you add after a few moments of silence, just to trigger Chuuya again.

It works.

He lets out a noise more befitting of an animal, head snapping back to the side to look at you. “He definitely does n-” He cuts himself off before he can even finish the sentence, glaring at you. “That’s because that freak knows everything somehow.”

You only give him an easy shrug. “Just saying, it’s a bit…” You give him a twisted expression, nose wrinkled and lips pressed together rather than saying the word out loud, and Chuuya looks murderous. 

“It’s a bit what?” Chuuya demands. “You don’t know his birthday either.”

“I’m not his partner,” you counter to hide the fact that you are very bothered over not knowing his birthday.

“No, you’re just his girlfriend,” Chuuya says snidely.

Your face heats up. “I am not his girlfriend, Chuuya,” you scowl. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chuuya replies sarcastically, giving the tattoo artist an apologetic look when he gives the ginger another sharp warning with his eyes. “If Dazai wanted us to know his birthday, he would have told us. Y’know how secretive he gets over his personal life—he’d be shouting it off every rooftop if it was something he wanted us to do something about.”

You’re not quite as convinced.

At first glance, Dazai doesn’t shut up—he finds any and every reason to hear himself speak, whether it be random facts about crabs or ranking methods of suicide from least to most painful. Because of his tendency to run his mouth, most people don’t realize just how secretive he is about his personal life. You’ve realized that he probably uses it as a tactic to evade questions, because when people do poke and prod about his personal life, he becomes avoidant, expertly redirecting the conversation to something less personal by subtly changing the subject or pissing off whoever (Chuuya) is talking to him. You always catch it—conversation manipulation is your thing, you’ve finely honed your skills in guiding discussion to your discretion, it’s a skill that comes in handy at the negotiation table and in politics. You know he knows that you catch it too, always watching you carefully to ensure that you don’t call any attention to what he’s doing.

You don’t, of course, you’re not going to put him on the spot like that, but you don’t understand it. Well, you can to an extent—if you had random people prodding at your personal life, you’d also evade the topic. But you and Chuuya aren’t random people. You’re his friends, and you can’t for the life of you understand why he won’t open up to the two of you a little.

Every time you bring up the subject of him to him, he starts acting strange and cagey, like he knows that his evasion tactics won’t work with you and he wants to say something, but simply can’t get the words out. Maybe it’s his mistaken belief that he doesn’t deserve all of the things other people take for granted: comfort, friends, happiness. But still, you can’t imagine that Dazai doesn’t crave the experience of a normal birthday—well, as normal as things can get for teenage mafiosos—because you know that Dazai at his core simply wants to be a normal teenager.

As to why Dazai would rather deny himself happiness than to let you and Chuuya closer than arm's length? The answer alludes you even you.

When Chuuya grimaces, letting out a heavy breath and averting his gaze, you think that he’s come to the same conclusion as you.

“I assume since you’re bringing it up, you have some sort of plan?” Chuuya sighs, tired.

You smile.

“Naturally.”

You think Chuuya might kill you after this.

You can’t help but snort to yourself as you kneel on the floor next to Mori’s desk, rifling through his drawers to find the key to his file cabinet. Chuuya is somewhere downstairs trying to keep the man distracted with a fake medical condition while you try to find Dazai’s file in his office. You can hear him in the ear piece you’re wearing, flustered and stuttering over his words. You can almost picture how red his face is. 

Chuuya isn’t a bad liar, usually—in fact, he can act his ass off on missions—but lying to the Boss is an entirely different story. You think that you probably should have been the one to keep Mori distracted, but you worried that if Mori got up here and Chuuya was still searching, he wouldn’t be able to play it off. So, this was the lesser of two evils. 

Mori is getting increasingly more irritated as Chuuya keeps miswording the symptoms and backtracking, then blaming it on how ‘his head just hurts so bad, he can’t think.’ You’re sure he’s starting to suspect something—or more likely, the man probably figured it out right away—but you also know he’s too hyper-paranoid about losing his strongest ability user to dismiss Chuuya’s blatant lies for what they are.

You let out a victorious puff of air when your hand encloses around the key you’d been searching for, immediately shuffling over to the file cabinet, unlocking it as quickly as you can to shuffle through them, trying to find Dazai’s.

Mori has too many files, you think to yourself frustrated, eyes scanning as fast as you can as you flip through them, trying to spot the one you need, becoming increasingly more frantic when you hear Mori and Chuuya enter the elevator, not sure if they’re coming up to his office or if Mori’s dragging Chuuya down to one of the lower floor infirmaries.

Fuck, you think, finally flipping through to the D’s and letting out a frustrated groan when his file isn’t even there. You go through it again, more carefully this time, and nearly tug out your hair when you realize that either Mori misplaced Dazai’s file or there isn’t one. But you can’t imagine either of those options being true.

Getting increasingly more anxious as the seconds pass, and knowing that Chuuya actually will kill you if he embarrassed himself like this for nothing, you start rifling through the other letters in a panic. From the A’s all the way to the Z’s, it’s only on your second scan through that you pause, spotting a thick, unnamed file in the T section.

You stare at it for a moment, brows furrowed, a gut feeling twisting inside you as you try to pull out the file. It’s a struggle—the file is thick and the drawer is stuffed, but when you finally get it out and flip it open, your eyes widen when Dazai’s face stares back at you in the top left corner of the first paper in the file. He’s younger in the picture—no older than thirteen or fourteen—both eyes uncovered, black and void of life.

You let out a shaky breath, heart racing as your eyes scan dismissively over any information that’s not his birthday, because you know damn well Dazai will not take kindly to yours and Chuuya’s snooping and you want to mitigate the damage, only to halt when your gaze catches on blacked out information right above the date.

His name?

You pause, eyes focusing momentarily as you try to understand what you’re reading.

NAME:  ████████████████ 

ALIAS: Dazai Osamu

What?

You don’t know how long you stare at the file, lips parted and a torrent of emotions clawing at your chest. Mainly confusion, but also something else—tighter, more unwelcome. You don’t even have time to try to figure out what you’re looking at because at once, the remote in your pocket is buzzing, the last signal from Chuuya that Mori is on the floor of his office.

You let out a string of curses, putting the file back where you found it, locking the cabinet and putting the key back before darting to the other side of the desk. You mask the confusion and nerves rattling your mind and body with an irritated expression just as the door opens.

“… ggest that you take some time to rest, Chuuya-kun. Physically, there is nothing wrong with you.”

You look over your shoulder, eyes meeting Mori’s as you frown deeply. “You’re late,” you say. “I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes.”

“Ah, apologies, I’m afraid young Chuuya-kun has spent the past twenty minutes following me around with nonexistent health issues,” Mori replies with a thin smile, purple eyes carding over you before he looks around his office curiously, as if he knows you’d been up to something but doesn’t know what. Chuuya cringes next to him and gives you a withering look, he opens his mouth to protest but Mori is speaking again before he can get anything out. “What did you want to discuss?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the situation in Vladivostok,” you say, eyes following Mori, waiting for him to sit down so you can. You watch as he glances around his desk, as if trying to figure out what you’d been doing before he showed up. You almost smile when his eyes narrow after coming empty handed. “I think it would be in our best interest…” 

As you sit down across from Mori, you slip your hands behind your back, giving Chuuya a thumbs up, letting him know that his humiliation was not in vain.

Step one, complete. June 19th.

“I will never fucking forgive you for that,” Chuuya hisses when the two of you finally leave Mori’s office. “Never. That was humiliating.”

You snort. “It was pretty bad.”

“Fuck you,” Chuuya snaps. His face is still on fire, has been for the past twenty minutes as you explained your plan for the new organization rising to power in eastern Russia. “Well? When is his birthday?”

You cringe and Chuuya is instantly glowering at you. “Don’t even tell me you didn’t find it. You gave me the thumbs up. I’ll-”

“No, I got it,” you say dismissively. 

That’s not what you’re cringing over—you’re cringing for two reasons: 1) his birthday is less than five days away and you have no idea how the two of you are going to figure something out before then, and 2) the reminder of Dazai’s file, its misplaced location and the blacked out information where his name should have been, the alias labeling what you thought was his real name.

Your lips part to bring it up to Chuuya, but you hesitate because you don’t know if you should. The last thing you want to do is upset Dazai because you let something out that he didn't want anyone to know.

“Well?” Chuuya demands. “What is it?”

“June 19th,” you say, watching as Chuuya blanches. “Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do in four days?” Chuuya hisses, grabbing your shoulder and forcing you to look at him. “I don’t even know what that bastard would want.”

You’re just as lost, grimacing as you rub the back of your neck. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Dazai never really… wants for anything.”

You stare ahead listlessly, leaning against the elevator wall as the two of you head down to the first floor. Dazai likes playing video games, but he gets bored of them quickly. His room is stacked with games he’s played once and then tossed to the side. He likes crab, but you’re not going to get him canned crab for his birthday. He likes suicide, and you’re pretty sure a new edition of that wretched book of his came out, but you also don’t want to get him that for, well, obvious reasons.

“Maybe we can get him a pet crab?” Chuuya frowns.

“He’ll kill it,” you dismiss, “and then he’ll spend months whining over it. And blaming us.”

“Fair enough.”

The elevator door slides open as the two of you reach the bottom floor, and you watch as the subordinates meandering about incline their heads toward the two of you as you pass by. You only absently wave them off, mind racing as you try to figure out what to do for Dazai’s birthday. Crab, suicide, video games—what else could Dazai possibly like?

You think the only other thing is-

Oh. Oh. You have an idea.

A smile spreads across your face. “Chuuya,” you say, relieved, “I have the best idea-”

“There you guys are,” Dazai’s familiar voice rings from the right, and immediately, Chuuya gives you a sharp, panicked look and you shut your mouth, stiffening. “I was…”

Dazai trails off, and you briefly shut your eyes, because wow, that was entirely unsubtle. Dazai’s smile is more strained now and the shine in his dark eye fades, the palpable excitement withers away in a matter of seconds.

Fuck.

“I see,” Dazai says, voice cool and withdrawn. “You guys are busy. It wasn’t important anyway.”

“Dazai,” you call after him, taking a few steps, but the boy has already whirled around, stalking off the way he came. He ignores your call of his name. “Shit.”

“He totally took that the wrong way,” Chuuya says, as if that wasn’t obvious.

“How astute, Chuuya,” you say dryly, chest tight as Dazai disappears around the corner.

“You know, for someone who brags about not needing anyone, he’s pretty fucking sensitive,” Chuuya notes.

“Don’t be a fucking asshole, Chuuya,” you snap at him, but the redhead only shrugs carelessly in response.

“It’s the truth. Anyway, what was your idea?” 

Even with the weight of Dazai clearly being upset heavy on your chest, the reminder of your idea for his birthday still causes a sly smile to spread across your lips.

“You’re gonna love this.”

Not only was Dazai upset, but he was upset enough that he hasn’t come back to your apartment in three and a half days. You figure he must be back at his shipping container, or maybe staying with those other friends of his, but you feel lonely without him. It’s weird not coming back to your apartment to find him lounging on your couch eating your favorite snacks; it’s different when he has missions and can’t be here, right now? He’s choosing to not be here, and that makes you feel gross and uncomfortable.

You feel bad, and no matter how many times Chuuya tells you to look on the bright side—that you guys can plan his birthday without him constantly hovering, figuring out what the two of you are doing—it just makes you feel worse. 

You’re sitting in your apartment waiting for Chuuya when the elevator bings, signaling someone coming up to your apartment—and considering there’s only two people who the front desk let up without your explicit permission, and one of them is still dealing with issues at one of the ports, which flooded from all of the rain the past few days, there’s only one person who it can be.

Your eyes widen as your head snaps up, looking to the elevator as the doors slide open, revealing Dazai fumbling with something in his jacket as he steps out. He doesn’t even notice you until you rise to your feet, and when he does, he’s instantly guarded. 

“You’re supposed to be on a mission,” he accuses, voice low.

You’re a bit hurt that Dazai only showed up to your apartment because he thought you wouldn’t be here but you mask it with a tilt of your head and a curious expression.

“I am on a mission,” you say, and it’s not a lie—the mission is finalizing the plans for Dazai’s birthday, step two starts in four hours and you need to confirm things with Chuuya before it begins. What awful timing, you realize mournfully, because you do want to smooth things out with Dazai but right now you can’t afford to. “It’s one I can do at home.”

Dazai makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, gaze focusing on the folders laid out in front of you. Closed, luckily, you’d been skimming through one but you got bored while waiting for Chuuya and decided to scroll on your phone.

“I only came to pick up my other jacket,” Dazai finally says, voice still cold and distant—you hate it.

Your eyes track down to Dazai’s coat, noticing the blood that’s dripping from it onto your wood floor.

You cringe, but then extend an olive branch by asking, “Want me to throw it in the wash?”

Dazai hesitates, a reluctant expression crossing his face but he nods, slipping it off his shoulders and padding over to you slowly, handing it to you carefully so as to not get the blood on your couch. Your fingers brush his as he does and your throat spasms a bit.

Dazai draws back quickly, but then he looks down at the files in front of you, and then back to you and asks, “… Want help with that?”

Shit.

This is Dazai’s olive branch, and you have to reject it. Because then he’ll realize this is no mission, and all of the plans for his birthday will go to waste.

“Nah,” you say easily. “It’s fine. It’s quick, where were you heading out to?”

Dazai looks a little put out by your rejection, but he doesn’t look too bothered, so he probably took your lie as truth.

“Bar Lupin.”

You roll your eyes.

Dazai gives you a dirty look.

“I don’t know why you get so jealous about them,” Dazai says pettily, obviously trying to get a retaliatory dig in for whatever wound he thinks he received the other day. Your eye twitches at the accusation. “I knew Odasaku before you.”

You pause at that.

Does Oda know Dazai’s real name? You’re hit with a wave of vicious jealousy, and faced once again with the back and forth you’ve been dealing with the past three days—do you really know Dazai? He’s always hid a lot from you, you knew that, but to realize that you only know him by an alias… You don’t understand it—is it by choice? Does he just no longer want to associate with that name? If that’s the case, then you don’t even want to ask and make him uncomfortable. 

But what if it’s not? What if Dazai Osamu is just a fake persona he’s built to hide his real self? You doubt he’s a spy, Mori would obviously know but… if it was Mori that forced him to take on a new name and identity? If he wants to let people in but can’t? You remember all of the times when you ask him things and he stares at you as if he wants to answer but doesn’t know how.

“You shouldn’t think too much, your small brain will implode.”

“Fuck you.”

Drawn from your thoughts, you glare at Dazai, who only gives you a simpering smile in return, eye regaining that little bit of shine it’d lost when he ran into you and Chuuya that day. Then he hesitates again and you raise your eyebrows.

“I’ll call things off with Odasaku and Ango? … You picked out that movie last week, we never watched it. We can watch it after you finish up?” His voice is quiet, uncertain and you feel like a cunt, because you have no way of saying no without being a cunt. 

You’d already told him that the mission wouldn’t take long, so you can’t use that as an excuse. You think maybe you should just call off tonight with Chuuya, meet at his apartment later on to try to get things for dawn, when everything is to take place. It would be risky, you don’t know if you can pull off such an elaborate scheme with such little preparation and Dazai, of all people, as the target, but you think you’d rather risk that then say no to him right now. 

Your lips part to agree, mind already racing trying to figure out how to get all the folders out of here before his nosy ass can peak at one of them, but you’re interrupted by your elevator binging. Again.

Oh, fuck.

Dazai stills as his gaze cuts backward, eye sharp as the elevator doors slide open and reveal an irritated Chuuya, soaked up to the waist and covered in mud.

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya seethes. “I’m never helping out at the ports again. They’re fucking incompetent, I-”

Chuuya pauses when he sees Dazai. Dazai doesn’t budge. For a split second, not a single one of you dares to move. You can see the quick cogs within Dazai’s mind turning as he pieces together an answer—why you didn’t accept his help, why you took so long to respond. Dread piles in your stomach as you try to figure out what to say only to come up empty-handed. For someone known for a quick tongue and sharp brain, you always somehow find them failing you when faced with conflict with Dazai. 

Finally, Dazai breaks the silence with a cool smile and a mirthful look in his eye, glancing back at you.

“That’s why you wanted me out of here. Okay.” He leaves no room for questions, doesn’t even bother to go into his bedroom to grab his other jacket before stalking forward and entering the elevator Chuuya just came out of, not even acknowledging his partner before smacking the button to the first floor.

“Dazai!” you call after him, taking a few steps toward the elevator but he only turns his chin as the doors slide shut. You shout after him angrily, “And you say I’m the jealous one!” but you doubt he even heard it.

“That bastard has the worst fucking timing ever,” Chuuya says as soon as he’s gone, unperturbed.

You give Chuuya a withering look, wanting to curl up on your couch and die. So you do that. The weight on your chest that had only just finally started to relieve itself from you returns with a vengeance, and you suddenly feel like you want to cry, unsure of how everything has gone so wrong the past few days when you just want to do something nice for him. You tuck your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, placing your chin on top of them.

“Relax,” Chuuya says, tossing himself onto the couch next to you; you don’t even have it in you to be annoyed by the water and mud, shoulders slumping as he tosses an arm around you and lets you lean into him. “It’ll be fine. Blockhead won’t even know what hit him tomorrow. C’mon, let’s get this finished so we’re ready to go.”

“… You want us to… kidnap the Demon Prodigy?”

Your subordinates stare, expressions pale and aghast as they share looks with one another. You stand resolute, head held high, and Chuuya raises his eyebrows next to you. Your eye twitches at the moniker that follows Dazai everywhere.

“That’s what we said, yes,” you say, frowning. “Was I unclear?”

“No, hime-” You roll your eyes at yet another one of Mori’s ghastly titles.

He must find it quite amusing, pleased with himself every time he watches you turn green with disgust when he insists on using the term. Even worse, it seems he’s somehow managed to coax your subordinates into using the shitty moniker too. The old man must really enjoy pissing you off, he’s certainly very skilled at it. 

Your lip curls up in irritation when your subordinate continues.

“It’s just-what if-”

“You will not be punished for targeting an executive,” you say dismissively. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“We fear that the Demon Prodigy will… draw his gun when threatened,” the man continues, grimacing as if trying to choose his words carefully. You don’t recognize him—you think you should probably get to know your subordinates better, you’ve left most dealings with them to your partner, Itou… who you also have to get in contact with for this plan to work. You wince, realizing you still have much more to do within the next few hours. “How should we proceed if he does?” 

“Dazai probably will.” You stress his name, giving the man a withering look. To his credit, he winces and looks away. “But he will also be drunk, and slower, taken off guard, so you will… Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have the advantage over even a drunk and surprised Dazai, but there are more of you, so there’s that.”

“Way to inspire confidence,” Chuuya mutters dryly.

You shrug, “I’m not going to delude them before sending them out. They should be prepared to take a bullet or two. Hopefully nonlethal—you have bullet proof vests.”

“You’re fucked up,” Chuuya snorts, before turning his attention to the dozen or so gathered subordinates. “There will be minimal risk, and remember, nobody is to know about this. Nobody. Not even the other executives, or the Boss.”

“Especially not the Boss,” you add. “For the next day and a half, you’re relieved of duties. Go back to your families, or get shit-faced drunk, but don’t come back to headquarters. Under any circumstances. Clear?” 

The men exchange looks with one another, uncertain. “And if he draws his gun?” the man prods again. 

You share a look with Chuuya from the corner of your eye. “He’s not to be injured,” you finally say, voice firm, not leaving any room for doubt. “Under any circumstances. Inject him with this, you’ll be fine.”

You pull from your pocket a sedative that you’d pocketed from Mori’s office before, dangling it in front of them, waiting for one of them to reach out and take it. When they do, you lean back on your heels and look at them.

“This has to be successful,” you tell them, finally starting to feel the pinpricks of anxiety run through your chest the closer it gets to go-time. Dazai is so mad at you right now, and if this fails, it’ll make things ten times worse. Failure isn’t an option—it never is, but especially not now. “I won’t accept anything less.”

“Yes ma’am,” one of your subordinates murmurs and the rest echo, half of them look as if they’re marching off to their death and you absently make yourself a note to give them a big bonus this month. “Can we at least know why we’re kidnapping the De-Executive Dazai?” 

You smile. 

“It’s his birthday gift.”

Dazai is in a bad mood.

Oda watches curiously as the boy downs his seventh (eighth?) drink, wondering if he should tell him to slow down. From the corner of his eye, he sees Ango cringing, lips parted as if to speak but then reconsidering as he shakes his head and takes a sip of his own alcohol, looking thoroughly concerned. Dazai hasn’t said a word since he showed up two hours ago in a foul mood, and every time Oda opens his mouth to ask, Ango gives him the sharpest look and Oda instantly shuts his mouth.

“I think the slug is dating-” Dazai finally speaks, voice rough, right hand clenched around his glass of whiskey. It’s as if he can’t even bring himself to say the words and Oda’s eyes narrow as he studies him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. “I think the slug is dating… her.”

Her. He must mean you. You’re pretty much the only ‘her’ that Dazai ever refers to—goes on about you nonstop whenever he gets a few drinks in him.

“That’s nice,” Oda says without thinking, until he sees the horrified look cast his way by Ango. “That’s awful.”

“It is awful,” Dazai agrees with a hiss. “It’s awful. I hate it. It’s disgusting.”

Oh, Oda realizes, a bit more amused, grateful that Dazai is too busy glaring into his drink to see the smile that curls to the corner of his lips. Oda had suspected that Dazai has a crush on you just from the way he talks about you—going from long winded rants of how agonizing you are to live with (as if he doesn’t actively choose to live with you) to wistful recounts admiring your missions (although those quickly shift into rants, as if Dazai catches himself yearning and has to make up for it by acting like it never happened). 

Oda and Ango realized that Dazai was obsessed with you months ago—back before the Dragon’s Head Conflict even ended, not long after you showed up, actually, when he first started talking about you. Oda assumed that it was a kiddie crush that he’d grow out of, but here he is a year later, just as infatuated—if not more so.

Cute.

“What-” Ango begins only for his voice to waver, glaring at Oda when he sees the smile on the man’s lips. He sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose before retrying. “What makes you think they’re dating?” 

“The other day I went looking for them and I found them together, and I was gonna ask them to go to the arcade with me, but as soon as they saw me, they got all stiff and uncomfortable like they didn’t want me there.” 

Dazai almost sounds hurt by it—words strung out a bit long, lips curved down. It’s not often that Oda gets to see him act like the sixteen (seventeen now? Oda realizes he doesn’t even know the boy’s age and makes a note to ask) year old that he is, and while it’s unfortunate that this one is stemmed by him feeling rejected by his friends, he also can’t help but smile at it. Which Ango catches from the appalled look that the other man gives him.

Oda smothers the smile again instantly.

“That doesn’t mean that they’re dating,” Ango begins, trying to be reasonable, but is cut off when Dazai tosses him a sharp glare.

“And then,” Dazai continues, “I went home before because I thought she was going to be on a mission, but she was there working on it, and I offered to help her with it so she could finish faster, but she said no. And I didn’t think anything of it, but then I said I was going to reschedule with you guys for another day so we could watch a movie, and she didn’t respond at first, and I thought that was weird, and then guess what? The slug showed up. She was blowing me off to hang out with him.”

Wow, Oda thinks to himself. That’s a lot to break down. 

Home. Oda is careful this time to not let his lips quirk up into a smile but it’s impossible to hide the fond look in his eyes as he looks down at a sulking Dazai, who has slumped over the bar top, absently playing with the spherical ice in his drink. Oda has never heard Dazai refer to anything as home before. His shipping container had always just been the shipping container, and up until, well, today, your apartment had always just been your apartment. Ango catches the wording too from the way his eyes widen a bit.

And then on top of that, Dazai? Offering to help someone with work? Oda thinks there’s a better chance of fire raining from the sky. Oda is realizing that this really is more than a kiddie crush—not that Dazai would probably ever acknowledge that. Oda wonders if he should help him get there. 

“That doesn’t mean they’re dating,” Oda finally says, taking a sip of his drink and ignoring the way Ango gives him a side eye, focusing instead on how Dazai turns his head to the side to look at Oda. If Oda didn’t know any better, he’d say the boy is pouting. “They might be planning something for you, don’t want you around for it. You had that mission recently, didn’t you? The one everyone said would fail?”

Oda realizes, a bit too late, that if that is the case, he just ruined the surprise and silently apologies for it. But Dazai doesn’t seem to take him seriously anyway, rolling his eye as he returns to bouncing the ice in the glass.

“Yeah, right,” he says dryly. “No one does anything like that for me.”

Oda purses his lips, not responding, and Ango sighs as he looks away. Oda tries to figure out what to say, testing some words on his tongue but they all feel wrong.

Finally, he chooses to just be blunt. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

The noise Ango lets out is all but a whimper, he buries his face in his hands as if to disappear. Dazai’s gaze cuts to the side, head turning slowly as he focuses on Oda.

“What?”

Oda thinks maybe he should stop talking, but he doesn’t, naturally. “Y’know—you could just tell her how you feel,” Oda repeats, seeing the way Ango is shaking his head frantically but he continues anyway. “Telling her would save you from doing this once a week.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Dazai says icily, taking a tone that he rarely uses with Oda as he pushes himself off of the barstool and turns to leave. “I’ve had too much to drink. I’m heading out for the night.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for either one of them to say goodbye as he all but storms out of the bar. Oda sighs, taking a sip of his own drink.

“That could have gone better.”

Ango slaps the back of his head hard.

“I can’t stand you sometimes.”

“Alright, it’s time.”

You watch the live CCTV cameras from the sleek black car you and Chuuya are huddled in. Your partner, Itou, sits in the front seat, rubbing his temples as he spares you guys a short look. You raise your eyebrows at him but he only shakes his head.

“I don’t know what goes through your head sometimes,” he tells you, tired. “I want no part in this beyond this right here.”

“You’re no fun,” you say, squinting at him, “and we still need you to get the footage from the headquarters.”

Itou sighs so heavily that you think he might be trying to expel his lungs from his body. He glares at you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing beyond that. You’re insane for this. You’re going to get us all thrown in the torture chambers.”

“Relax, don’t be so serious. It makes you ugly. You’ll be fine,” you complain, focusing back down on Chuuya’s laptop, straightening as Dazai finally comes into view on the screen. 

You and Chuuya exchange an excited look with one another, a smile twitching onto your lips as you wait for the scene to unfold. You pointedly ignore the noise Itou makes when he notices how thrilled the two of you are at the prospect of kidnapping Dazai—but Itou doesn’t get it, he doesn’t know Dazai. Dazai will love this, and he’ll love it even more when you get your hands on the footage of Mori’s and Kouyou’s reactions to the kidnapping.

You’ve got your subordinates disguised impeccably as members of a low-rung gang that’s been trying to make moves into the northern wards of Yokohama. You had a meeting with them a few days ago to determine whether they’d be worth absorbing or if Mori should just send Dazai and Chuuya to deal with them. You decided on the latter, and the two of them are supposed to go in and exterminate them next weekend.

You figured they would be the perfect cover to pose as Dazai’s “kidnappers.” They’ve been aggressive and violent in Port Mafia territory, making increasingly larger steps into the Naka Ward. You were honestly curious to see how far they’ll try to go, but you doubt Mori will let it get any farther than he has already anyway, so you thought you might as well get some use out of them to stage a realistic-looking kidnapping.

You think Mori will probably assume this was intentional at first when he gets the report. He’ll call you and Chuuya, the two of you will act bitter and angry as if you’re not on speaking terms with Dazai currently—which, you suppose it’s for the best that he stormed away from the two of you that day in headquarters, because it’ll make it seem legit—you’ll hang up and tell him that you’re busy for the night, tell him not to bother you again. 

When Mori realizes that neither you or Chuuya know what’s going on, he’ll start to get suspicious. He’ll seek out the tapes and see Dazai drunk and lost in thought wandering home, see the way he genuinely struggles against his “captors” before being knocked out—none of the casual arrogance he usually has when getting himself captured by the enemy—and then? Then, you don’t know how Mori will react. You assume that he’ll call you and Chuuya again, get the two of you on it, but by that point, your phones will be off.

You’re giddy as you, again, focus back on the screen, watching as Dazai meanders down the street. His movements are slow and unsteady, and your giddiness fades when you see the downcast expression on his face. It’s hard to tell from the footage, but he’s clearly bothered about something. You wonder if he’s that pissed about what happened earlier, or if something else happened with his other friends—he’s usually at Bar Lupin for at least another two hours.

“Okay,” Chuuya says into his earpiece. “Begin stage one of the operation.”

“He looks kind of upset, doesn’t he?” you murmur when Chuuya takes his fingers off the button on the earpiece.

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

You ignore the curious, knowing look that Itou gives you through the rearview mirror and instead tunnel your vision onto the laptop screen… although you find you don’t really want to look at that either. You grimace as your subordinates finally make their move—and it’s testament to how lost in his own thoughts he is because Dazai hardly notices what’s happening until they’re on him.

He goes for his gun instantly, but your subordinate—Kirishima, you learned his name was—is quick to disarm him, knocking the gun out of his hands and reaching for his arm. Dazai is still swift on his feet, nimble even with a dubious amount of alcohol in him. He’s able to worm out of Kirishima’s grip, darting backward. The expression on his face is lethal, gaze cold as he tries to assess his situation, and you watch as the realization that he might be in trouble finally hits.

Just as Kirishima is about to motion for two of the others to go for him again. Dazai slips his phone out of his pocket and dials a number.

“Fuck!” Chuuya spits. “If he calls the Boss-”

But Dazai evidently did not call the Boss, which would have been the smartest decision on his part considering Mori would have gotten one of Verlaine’s special ops units to him within a max of three minutes, because after a second, your phone starts ringing.

Oh.

You stare at it, heart lodged in your throat, unsure of what to do.

“Shit,” Chuuya says, just as caught off guard. “I didn’t think he’d call you. You can’t pick up.”

You shoot Chuuya an accusatory look. “I have to pick up,” you hiss. “He called me when he actually thought he was in trouble. I can’t just ignore him, that’s fucked up.”

“We staged the kidnapping, it’s already fucked up,” Chuuya snaps right back, “and he can read your ass like a book. If you pick up, that bastard will figure out it’s us.”

“Chuuya,” you bristle, ready to ignore him and reach for your phone but he’s quicker than you, arm darting forward to grab your phone before throwing it out the window. You stare at him horrified, “Chuuya!”

You think you might throw up when you watch Dazai take one last glance at his phone before an unreadable expression crosses his face. He elbows one of them hard in the gut to get away, but Kirishima is on him with the sedative before he can make a run for it. Dazai grimaces when he feels the pinprick in his neck, and you finally look away when he slumps over onto the ground.

“Don’t start feeling bad now,” Chuuya says, glaring at you. “What did you think would happen?” 

“I don’t feel bad,” you lie, and when Chuuya gives you a doubtful look, you sigh and say, “He just looked so…”

Human. 

He looked surprised, uncertain—it’s rare for Dazai Osamu to be caught off guard by anything. You think in the year or so that you’ve known him, you’ve only ever seen him genuinely thrown off like this once, and it was when the Colonel’s operation against the Bishop’s Staff went haywire during the Dragon’s Head Conflict and you got caught in the crossfire, captured by the enemy.

You’ve always been of the belief that Dazai is one of the most human people you’ve ever met. You’ve fought people over it, you’ve fought him over it. The issue is that he’s also ridiculously intelligent, likes to portray himself as inhuman, be it to intimidate his subordinates or enemies or to fulfill whatever fucked up image he has of himself, you don’t know, but he’s good at it. It’s only when he’s put into situations like this, where he’s got no shot of keeping up his mask, surprised and trying to push away the rising panic when he realizes that there’s no way to think, talk or fight his way out of a situation, that you really see his humanity. It’s stark compared to his usual demeanor, almost palpable.

You sit there simmering in your own thoughts until Kirishima knocks hard on the window to the car. Dazai looks small in his arms—he’s tall, but thin and lanky because he doesn’t eat properly no matter how much Chuuya belittles him for it and you try to get him to eat. His frame is small, and it’s especially apparent without his coat to create the illusion of a larger stature, when his face is lax, visible eye slid shut as he lays limp and unconscious in his arms.

You push open the door and Kirishima bends down to shuffle Dazai into the car with you. His body slumps against you, head falling onto your shoulder and you push your lip out a bit as you reach up to brush his hair out of his face.

“The sedatives?” Chuuya asks, leaning around you to focus on Kirishima.

Kirishima lifts the empty syringe, glancing at Chuuya before focusing on you. “Are we free to go, hime?”

You scowl at the nickname but you nod, more focused on shifting Dazai into a comfortable position. “Go get drunk or go to your families, I don’t care. Don’t come back to headquarters ‘til Monday, but be there early, we’ve got a mission.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kirishima replies, inclining his head to you before shutting the car door and leaving.

As soon as the door shuts, you sigh and let Dazai’s body fall over, head resting in your lap. He looks so completely at peace that you almost forget that it’s because he’s been drugged. He never sleeps well, even now that he’s staying at your place—you hear him wandering around at night, restless, and the few nights he does sleep, he seems to be plagued with nightmares. You rest your hand on his hair and absently brush your fingers through his damp locks before turning to look at Chuuya, who’s watching you with an expression nothing short of judgmental.

“What?” you demand.

“Nothing.” Chuuya rolls his eyes. “How long do you think the sedative will last?” 

“It’s a pretty high dosage,” you say with a frown, looking down at Dazai. “But Dazai’s got some mutant metabolism. Remember when he walked off a whole ass horse tranquilizer during Dragon’s Head. I give it like four hours max.”

“We need to get moving then,” Chuuya sighs, and you nod.

You lean over the center console and give Itou a sweet smile, careful to not jostle Dazai around too much.

“I’ll drive you there, but then I’m gone,” Itou sighs, giving you one last warning look before he puts the car in drive. “Don’t involve me in this any further.”

“Thank you, Itou,” you coo, sharing one last look with Chuuya before letting out a sigh and turning your attention back down to Dazai, gaze lingering and a soft smile on your face.

Chuuya makes a noise of disgust in the back of his throat.

You ignore it.

The beach house the two of you have usurped for the weekend is nicer than you could’ve imagined. You don’t know how Itou found it for the two of you, maybe a friend of his—you’ve found that he has friends everywhere, it’s been quite handy for when you have to deal with politics—or maybe he killed someone for it, you really can’t be sure with him. It’s a neat little place south of Higashikoiso, a little over an hour out of Yokohama���the house is near a cliff overlooking the sea, with an easy path down toward the beach.

There are only three bedrooms though, which is unfortunate considering you and Chuuya plan to coerce Dazai’s other friends into showing up. You might not be the fondest of them for petty reasons, but you think Dazai would like that, so you’ll bite your tongue and suffer through it. Either way, three or four people are going to have to share rooms depending on the set up and you’re fully intent on not being one of them; you already have your argument that you’re the only girl in the house and you think it will be solid enough, unless Dazai decides to be stubborn. 

“This is kind of fucked up,” you note while setting the scene.

Dazai is still unconscious, it’s only been an hour and a half so you should have some time before he wakes up, but you want to get this done as quickly as possible, because you don’t want him to wake up while you and Chuuya are halfway finished to setting up the room to make it look like a ransom scene.

“This is definitely fucked up,” you correct, but you’re smiling as you finish up typing the ropes around Dazai’s wrists, sitting him up in a rickety wooden chair.

You and Chuuya had dragged him down to the basement—Itou had luckily had some interrogation tools in the trunk of his car, and was not inclined to ask any questions when you asked for them, passing them over to you with the most concerned expression you’d ever seen on the nineteen-year-old’s face.

The basement looks like any average torture chamber—stone walls, damp and dingy, so it’s easy for you and Chuuya to transform it into an acceptable backdrop for your picture. You adjust Dazai in the seat again, fingers ghosting over his neck from where his head is falling forward, hoping he’s not too uncomfortable.

“This is your idea,” Chuuya shoots back, tilting his head to the side with a frown as he examines the scene. “He’s not roughed up enough. We’ve gotta do something, did you bring makeup with you?”

“No,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck before an idea pops in your head.

You slink over to Chuuya and grab the knife that he carries at his side, ignoring the perturbed look on his face as he instantly takes a step away. Making your way back over to Dazai, you grimace as you cut the palm of your hand, smearing some blood on Dazai’s face and shirt to make it seem as if he’s been roughed up. You readjust the ropes, tighten them a little more and make sure some of your blood drips down onto the floor above where Dazai’s face is hanging before you take a step back to admire your handiwork before turning to your accomplice.

“... Do you have the burner phone?” you ask Chuuya, wrapping your hand with cloth, figuring you’ll just bandage it up later. 

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

“Take the picture,” you tell him, stepping out of the way to hover over his shoulder, watching as Chuuya squints his eyes and tries to angle it properly so Dazai looks as in bad shape as possible. 

When he’s finally satisfied, he looks to you. Your lips curve up, “I’ll read off the number of that friend of his, you type it in. This’ll get them here for sure.”

As you do that, Chuuya starts snickering, clearly as entertained by this whole situation as you are. “You’re fucking psychotic for this, y’know?” he says, typing out the message to be attached with the image before pressing send and tossing the phone away.

“You helped me,” you accuse, but you're grinning, giddy again as you grab a towel to wipe the blood off of Dazai, pulling off the ropes and forcing Chuuya to help him back to the couch where he can be comfortable.

“Yeah, but it was your idea, you crazy bitch,” Chuuya tells you again with another snort. “What do we do now?”

“Wait.”

Everything happens at once.

Sakaguchi Ango and Oda Sakunosuke get to the beach house much sooner than you thought they would, and Dazai starts stirring an hour earlier than you expected—mutant metabolism, you think again. Luckily, it all happens at around the same time, so you get to see all of their reactions at once.

Neither Sakaguchi nor Oda have made a move into the house, probably trying to figure out the best course of action. Dazai still hasn’t woken up, curled up on the couch while you and Chuuya play cards at the table in front of him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. You’re winning, of course, and Chuuya is becoming increasingly more frustrated from the way he keeps slamming his cards down onto the coffee table.

“They’re about to come in,” Chuuya says, giving you a withering look as tosses his cards across the table—another losing hand. You give him a smug smile and Chuuya bares his teeth at you. “Come here.”

You sigh as you shuffle over around the table so that he can put his hand on your shoulder, ready to activate the Tainted Sorrow in case Sakaguchi and Oda come in guns blazing. On the couch, Dazai starts to shift, a low groan escaping his lips, and your eyes draw back to him, focusing on his face and the way his brows are furrowed and his lips are turned down.

“Here they are,” Chuuya hums, lips quirking up into a sharp smile. “Ready?”

“Yup,” you agree, popping the ‘p’ as you lean back on your hands and stare at the door. “How long do you think it’ll take them to actually open the door?”

“I give it five more seconds,” Chuuya snorts, and you shiver when you feel the familiar sensation of the Tainted Sorrow spreading across your body, an impenetrable barrier to protect you from whatever may come your way.

Just as Chuuya predicts, five seconds later, the front door is kicked open. You frown, hoping that they didn’t break it off of the hinges, because you don't want to hear Itou bitching about it later on. Oda Sakunosuke comes in first, gun steady and finger on the trigger, but the man is cautious and tilts his head to the side when his eyes fall upon you and Chuuya.

“What is it?” Sakaguchi asks from behind the other man, taking a step into the beach house to follow Oda’s gaze to you and Chuuya. “I-what?”

“Sakaguchi,” you say, lifting your hand to wag your fingers; maybe you’re a bit petty when you don’t acknowledge Oda. “Long time no see. I was grateful for your help when dealing with Nishiki and his cronies.”

“I, ah, hime-” You sigh at the moniker, eyes fluttering shut. “What is… going on? We got a picture and a…”

Sakaguchi trails off when he sees Dazai stirring on the couch, and you turn your attention toward him. You watch as he finally lifts his arm to rub his eyes, sluggish and slow. After a split second passes, you notice him stiffen, as if remembering what happened, and his eyes shoot open, cold and sharp.

You smile. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you coo. “Took you long enough.”

The icy mask slips away into genuine confusion, his brows furrow and his lips part. Next to you, Chuuya snorts, “Now, that’s a fucking sight. I almost want to take a picture.”

“What…” Dazai begins, then notices Oda and Sakaguchi still standing near the front door, blinking a few times. “What is going on?”

You’re sure that must’ve been the most painful question for Dazai Osamu to ask—admitting he has no idea what’s happening. Chuuya snickers and Dazai shoots him a contemptuous look, diluted by the fact that he still looks half out of it from the sedative.

“Yes,” Sakaguchi asks dryly, “what is going on?”

You smile proudly and then say, “We kidnapped you. Seemed pretty realistic, didn’t it? Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

Dazai blinks, you can see him trying to force his brain to start moving faster so he can put together the puzzle pieces you’ve handed him. His gaze calculating and lips tight. “You… set up the kidnapping?”

Oda then says: “See. I told you they were planning something.”

“Planning a kidnapping,” Sakaguchi sighs, tired. “Did you guess that too, Oda?”

“Well, no.”

Hardly listening to Oda and Sakaguchi’s bickering in the background, you keep your attention on Dazai, who’s watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You waver for a second, wondering if he’s mad at the two of you—you’d figured it could be an issue, that he might be put off by being kept in the dark about this. He really does hate not knowing things. 

“Why?” Dazai asks quietly, and you note how Oda and Sakaguchi share a look with one another before quieting down, waiting for your response.

“I’m glad you asked!” you say brightly. “It’s your birthday present!” 

You relish in the way the room goes quiet. Dazai’s dark eye widens, taken off guard for the second time in a matter of a few minutes. You’re even more gleeful when you see how Oda’s expression shifts into one of surprise, how Sakaguchi draws back, stunned. At least your fears of Oda and Sakaguchi knowing more about Dazai than you go unfounded.

“Yeah, shitty Dazai, say thank you,” Chuuya goads, a smug smile on his lips.

Dazai doesn’t respond, staring at the two of you with yet another indecipherable look, an odd shine to his dark eye. You feel a bit exposed under his stare, wondering what he could be thinking.

“How did you know?” Dazai finally asks, and oh, you realize that’s not the question he’s asking. Dazai knows that there’s only one way the two of you figured out his birthday—his file in Mori’s office. What he wants to know is which of you got hands on it.

“It was a grand plot,” you say, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you look up at him. “Chuuya kept Mori distracted while I ransacked his office looking for your file… part of your gift is going to be the recording of Chuuya trying to distract him. It was quite funny.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya demands, whirling on you. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

You ignore Chuuya, keeping your gaze trained on Dazai instead, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Is he angry at you? Upset? It’s impossible to tell from the heavy gaze he has laid on you, thousands of conflicting emotions swirling behind the black of his eye. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, chewing the inside of your cheek as you wait—god, only one person evokes this type of nervousness in you and you swear he enjoys it.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally lights up, flinging his arms out to his side, a wide, borderline facetious smile painting his face as he says, “So, I get an entire day to order you guys around to do my bidding.”

“Hey!” Chuuya shouts, equally incensed by Dazai’s words as he is by yours, head snapping to look at him. “That’s not the fucking gift, bastard.”

“What’s the plan then?” Oda asks curiously, and then adds, “... I’m glad you brought us here… as unconventional as the method may have been.”

You notice Dazai gives Oda and then you a curious look, but before he can ask, Chuuya is leaping to his feet, talking quickly as he waves his hands around, making subtle digs to get a rise out of Dazai, but Dazai is more focused on you.

You push yourself to your own feet, trying to ignore Dazai’s lidded stare and focus on what Chuuya is saying but it’s hard, especially when you see Dazai standing from the corner of your eye. He’s still a bit unsteady, movement slow and sluggish, and you’re sure that’s the excuse he has for when he meanders a few steps over to you, dropping his chin on your shoulder. You don’t dare to turn your face to the side to look at him, his lips brush your ear as he murmurs:

“Talk later?”

“... ‘course.”

Luckily, later doesn’t come for a long while. Chuuya was insistent on going out to the beach—you think he was more eager to see Dazai wear the ugly Hawaiian shirt that the two of you had brought along for him more than anything else, but he quickly found interest in the large waves coming in from the sea, running back to the beach house to seek out the boards that you’d found in the basement.

Dazai doesn’t go in the water, but you think he’s having a good time considering there’s a shine in his eyes that’s rarely there. Right now, he’s sitting in the sand in front of Oda and Sakaguchi; the former listening to Dazai ramble on about whatever he’s talking about, the latter tapping away on his computer and occasionally nodding along.

You spend most of your time watching Chuuya cheat at surfing, using his ability to keep him on top of the surfboard as he seeks out the biggest waves. You’re standing in the water yourself, no further than knee-deep because you don’t want to get your clothes and hair wet. You’re kind of annoyed that Dazai’s been spending all of his time with Oda and Sakaguchi when you and Chuuya were the ones who did all of the work, and again, you can’t help but wonder if he might be mad at you. He didn’t seem to be on the walk down to the beach but you can honestly never know with him.

You drag your gaze from where Chuuya is hooting and hollering as he catches another big wave, rolling your eyes when you see the red emanating around his feet and the surfboard, so you can look back at Dazai. He’s stopped talking, listening to whatever Oda is saying instead as he stares at you with a contemplative expression. You feel distinctly seen beneath his stare, lost as to what he might be thinking. He doesn’t even notice that you caught him looking, or if he does, he doesn’t care.

You shake your head when you hear Chuuya coming toward you again, turning your attention back onto him.

“Did you see that one?” Chuuya demands, exhilarated, board tucked under his arm as he brushes his hair out of his face. “Did you?”

“I did,” you say dryly. “It would’ve been much more impressive if you hadn’t been cheating with the Tainted Sorrow.”

Chuuya looks scorned. “I don’t see you getting out there to try,” he scowls, lifting his chin. “You’re more preoccupied with staring longingly at shitty Dazai.”

Your face heats up, you kick the water at him and make sure it gets in his face. “I am not,” you hiss. “Don’t be annoying, Chuuya.”

“I give it another ten seconds before you look back at him again,” Chuuya croons, a wide smile on his face that you have half a mind to slap right off.

To make it worse, you do feel an itch to look back at him now. Your eye twitches as you force yourself to keep looking forward at Chuuya just to make a point, but an odd feeling starts to stir in your gut when you see the way Chuuya’s gaze keeps darting behind you, looking increasingly more pleased with himself.

Finally, you give him an accusatory look before turning your head over your shoulder sharply to where Dazai had been with Oda and Sakaguchi only to find-

That he’s not there?

You hardly have enough time to register what you’re looking at before you see a rush of movement from the corner of your eye.

No-

All you hear is Chuuya’s wild laughter and the sound of the ocean waves reverberating through your skull as Dazai tackles you back into the water hard. The water cushions your fall as your back finally hits the sand. You lift your hand to press your palm against Dazai’s face, pushing him away from you, lungs burning and decidedly soaked as you push yourself out of the water, gasping for air.

“Dazai!” you shout, throwing yourself at him with every intent to throttle him. 

Dazai tries to dodge, but is too busy wheezing over laughter to actually do so. He lets out a dramatic cry when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and successfully knock him into the water face down. He flails dramatically, arms and legs kicking as you hold him down beneath the water.

When you finally drag him back up above the surface, he inhales a lungful of air before giving you an indignant look. “You can’t do that,” Dazai shouts, pointing at you. “It’s my birthday.”

“I’ll do it again,” you shout right back, hair sticking in your eyes and clothes clinging to your skin from the seawater. “I wanted to go into town after this.”

Dazai looks just as messy—the cheap Hawaiian shirt you and Chuuya had got him is drenched, and the colors are bleeding into his bandages, making the previously pristine whites become a colorful swirl of oranges, blues and pinks. He looks like a shitty attempt at a watercolor painting. The bandages around his eye look especially uncomfortable from the way his visible eye keeps twitching and immediately your anger fizzles away into amusement.

You share a look with Chuuya that Dazai instantly catches, looking suspicious and alarmed.

“Chuuya, go get the camera.”

Dazai doesn’t even wait for another word. He instantly turns on his heel to bolt back to the beach house, but you’re chasing after him in an instant.

“Chuuya, go!” you yell again as you lunge forward, fingers curling around Dazai’s ankles to make him faceplant back into the water.

You scramble forward to straddle his waist to keep him in place but he worms out of your hold, trying to make another break for it but fails because you’re still clinging to his leg, dragging him back down with you. Distantly, you think you should’ve gone for the camera while Chuuya kept Dazai in place.

“Chuuya’s right,” you spit out. The two of you are out of the water now, you can feel the sand in your shirt and grating against your skin as you roll around with him trying to keep him still. “You really are like a slimy, slippery fish.”

“You can’t do this,” Dazai screeches. “It’s my birthday. It’s my birthday!”

“I got it!” Chuuya shouts from over by the chairs, racing back over to the two of you. 

“Took you long enough,” you yell right back at him, realizing that you’re going to have to sacrifice your own dignity to get Dazai in this picture, otherwise he’s going to try to run away again. 

Chuuya can hardly hold the camera straight through his snorting, and you’re sure you probably look equally as embarrassing as Dazai. There’s sand on your face, in your mouth, in your hair, in places where sand definitely shouldn’t be, but at least you don’t look like a kaleidoscope. Dazai lets out a pitiful noise when he realizes there’s no escape, trapped between your arms. He tries to hide his face in your neck, probably for plausible deniability that it’s an imposter trying to make him look bad, rather than it actually being him himself.

“Say cheese, mackerel,” Chuuya mocks.

“Fuck you,” Dazai complains.

But you can feel the smile twitching on his lips against your skin.

Oda and Sakaguchi set up a fire later that night. 

Well, by Oda and Sakaguchi, you mean Oda while Sakaguchi sat there and played dictator, telling him how to make a campfire that Oda clearly already knew how to make from the way he seemed to be hardly listening to the man.

Dazai and Chuuya are off trying to figure out how to use sparklers, which you think is a bad idea. You think the two are more likely to set each other on fire than actually use them properly, which is why you’re staying far away, tapping away on your phone near the campfire, relaxing under the sea breeze.

Itou: everything going ok?

You almost roll your eyes before responding with.

You: Yes. Why?

Itou: just curious :p

You: Could’ve stayed if you were curious. We offered.

Itou: yeah, maybe if u wanted to find me dead in a ditch. ur boy hates my guts.

You’re grateful that no one is around to see how you let out an embarrassed puff of air at how Itou refers to Dazai, instantly clicking out of his messages to see what other messages you have. Before you can, you feel a presence hovering above you and look up, raising your eyebrows.

Oda Sakunosuke stands next to you, studying you curiously, and you look to the side and then back toward him, unsure of what he wants.

“Yes?” you ask slowly. Sakaguchi is still sitting closer to the house, scowling as he bats away bugs.

“This is nice. What you did for Dazai,” Oda says simply. “I haven’t seen him this happy in… well, ever.”

A bit embarrassed, you shrug. “It’s whatever,” you say awkwardly. “Just happy it all worked out.”

“I don’t think Dazai’s ever had someone do something like this for him before,” Oda admits. He’s not looking at you anymore, fond gaze trained behind you to where you can hear Dazai and Chuuya arguing about how to use the sparklers. “He never told Ango or I his birthday… or anything personal about himself, really. I’m grateful that you brought us along.”

You wish you could sink into the ground and die, knowing that if it was up to you, you never would have invited either of them but forced yourself to for Dazai’s sake. Again, you shrug, and say, “Was for Dazai. Thought he would like it.”

“Well, I’m grateful anyway,” Oda says dismissively, looking back down at you. “You should stop by the curry place where I take Dazai every once and a while. The kids I brought in stay there, Sakura is the only girl, I’m sure she’d like having another girl around to talk to.”

You blanch. “I don’t-uh-I don’t know if that would be the best idea, I’m not exactly… a good influence for kids.”

Oda shrugs. “Maybe not conventionally, but you’re tough. Work ten times as hard as any of the others in the upper ranks of the Mafia to keep your position. It’s impressive. If Sakura was even half as strong as you are when she grows up, I’d be proud of her.”

Your lips part to speak but no words leave them. You think, maybe, that this is the first time anyone has ever acknowledged this. Your position has never been as secure as anyone else’s—you think maybe that it’s part of the reason why Mori is so insistent on people using that stupid fucking title, as much as you hate it.

Your own subordinates respect you, the rest of the upper echelon who know of your contributions do, but everyone else? Hierarchy is absolute and the Boss’s orders are paramount, but when subordinates see a chance to push themselves higher up the ladder, it’s like sharks with blood in the water. Without a powerful ability like Chuuya’s, or a mind and presence like Dazai’s, as a girl, you’re on the lowest rung, the first one they’re circling to try to get ahead.

You prevent gang wars, keep the government off the Mafia’s ass, but that’s all behind the scenes—none of the lower ranked mafiosos see any of that. They see Dazai and Chuuya bringing down entire organizations overnight. Ace bringing in billions of yen. Kouyou’s perfect record of assassinations. Hirotsu leading the Black Lizards. Akutagawa and his ability. All they ever seen in you is-

All they see in you is a seventeen-year-old girl who happens to be favored by the Boss.

Although you don’t necessarily care for Oda’s presence, even if only for petty reasons, you do appreciate his words. Your shoulders slump and you want to reply, say thank you at the very least, but nothing comes out. You think he notices, and being the infuriatingly kind person he is, he gives you an out. Oda Sakunosuke pats your head like you’re a dog. You give him a side-eye and cringe away from his hand, but he’s unperturbed. 

“I’m glad he has you,” Oda tells you, before wandering back over to Ango, leaving you there flustered and caught off guard.

Your gaze draws back to where Dazai has finally got his sparkler working, and for a second, you’re entranced. You can hardly drag your eyes from the bright gleam and soft smile on Dazai’s lips as he eyes follow the bright pink and gold sparks flying around as he waves the sparkler around in front of him. It’s childish, almost, innocent in a way that Dazai Osamu never gets to act.

You have to force yourself to look away from him, turning your attention back to your phone to go back to what you were doing before Oda interrupted you.

Several texts from Kouyou and Mori demanding you to pick up your phone, one concerned one from Hirotsu—you’ll have to apologize to him later—and several from an unknown number that you don’t recognize. Akutagawa? Dazai’s subordinate? You’re going to have to have a serious talk with your subordinates later about giving out your number. You click back to your message thread with Itou, pointedly ignoring the last message as you type.

You: How the hell did Akutagawa Ryuunosuke get my number?

Itou: pretty sure he threatened a couple of our subordinates, wounded one of them. i have to deal with it tomorrow. have dazai train his dog before letting him wander around unleashed.

You roll your eyes and then tilt your head back to shout over your shoulder, “Dazai, train your fucking subordinates properly.”

The bickering from where Dazai and Chuuya were arguing behind you halts, and you hear the two of them approach you.

“What happened?” Chuuya asks curiously, peeking over your shoulder at your phone. You promptly close it before he can catch sight of the other message that Itou had sent about Dazai.

Dazai comes to hover next to you, waiting for you to explain, and you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “Akutagawa injured one of my men and threatened others trying to get my number when he heard you were missing. Get him under control.”

Dazai’s visible eye twitches. “Untrained mutt,” he spits out. “I’ll deal with him.”

You share a short look with Chuuya from the corner of your eye, wondering if you’d just condemned Akutagawa to Dazai’s violent wrath, but you’re distracted when your phone buzzes again.

Itou: check ur email.

You straighten in your seat, immediately flicking out of your messages app to your email to find one from Itou with a video file attached.

“No way,” you breathe out, excited, not having expected Itou to get his hands on it so quickly. You turn to look at Dazai, a wide smile on your face; you miss the way the irritation on his instantly fades, visible eye widening and lips parting at the sight of your smile. You also miss, in your excitement, Chuuya’s grunt of disgust. “Dazai, you wanna see your real present?”

Curious, Dazai peers over your shoulder to see the email you got. “What is that?” 

“Watch and see,” you croon, clicking on the video to show the surveillance tape from headquarters.

Instantly, Dazai seems to realize what it is, eye lighting up. “No way,” he says, half sitting on top of you in your beach chair, ignoring your irritated hiss.

“Get your bony ass off of me, Dazai,” you snap at him, but Dazai ignores you, settling down as he snatches your phone to watch the video. 

Chuuya joins him, crowding in on your other side to lean over his shoulder to watch the video. Rolling your eyes, and unable to see the video on your phone, you instead lean back into the chair and watch their reactions to it instead.

Chuuya looks amused, a sharp grin on his face as his eyes remain pinned on the video, and Dazai looks delighted, he cackles and shifts to lean forward, making you grimace when he ends up digging more into your thigh to push himself up.

“Look at his face,” Dazai screeches. “He really thinks it was real. Ane-san looks like she’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Chuuya looks back at you, smiling but there’s a hesitant look in his eyes. “We’re going to be in so much trouble when we get back,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yeah, you agree silently, more focused on the bright shine in Dazai’s eyes and the wide, genuine smile on his lips. He’s so giddy that he’s almost vibrating in your lap, and when he finally looks back at you, he looks at you as if you’ve given him the world. Worth it, though.

Despite ardently arguing why you should be the one who doesn’t have to share a room and succeeding—forcing Oda and Sakaguchi (who didn’t seem to mind) and Chuuya and Dazai (much to their distress) to share a room instead—you find that you can’t sleep at night anyway. 

It’s almost midnight when you finally decide to wander out of the house, making your way to the path leading up to the clifftop—everyone called an early night, the excitement of the day, and the lack of sleep, leaving everyone exhausted before the clock hit nine-thirty.

The seabreeze is cool against your skin, the moonlight’s illumination the only guide you have as you make your way up to the cliff’s edge. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your sweats as you drag your feet against the dirt path.

You don’t notice someone sitting up there at the edge until they turn their head to the side to look at you, startled by your arrival.

“Dazai,” you say quietly, standing there awkwardly for a moment. You haven’t spoken to him alone yet, you’d meant to earlier but then Chuuya got his hands on wine before bed and that plan went out the window.

Dazai sighs whimsically when he catches sight of you. “So, hime forces me to share a room with the slug only to not even use her own room. She’s so greedy,” he whines, lashes fluttering as he looks up at you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you tell him, making your way over to sit with him, legs dangling off the edge, swinging absently. Your thigh is pressed against the side of his, feet occasionally bumping into one another, when you rest your hands against the ground to lean back on them, your thumb brushes his. “You wanted to talk.”

Dazai lets out an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat, and you watch as his gaze turns down to his lap, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s pretty beneath the glow of the moonlight, peaceful in a way you hardly ever see him. His expression is free of the numerous masks he wears to protect himself, eyes dark but warm and full of various emotions as he chooses his words carefully.

“Hime read my file,” Dazai finally says, voice soft, almost hesitant. You catch the way his jaw tightens and untightens, the corner of his lips tightening and quivering; a subtle tell to his nerves, one that most people wouldn’t catch, but you do.

“I did,” you agree. Your own heart races in your chest as you wait for his reaction; you don’t think that he’s angry, you think you’d be able to tell if he were angry by now, but you can’t help the anxiety plaguing you.

“So, you saw,” Dazai hums, but there’s a bit of a wobble to his tone. He pointedly doesn’t look at you now, staring ahead out toward the sky and distant sea. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“No. I figure you’ll tell me if you want. If not, it’s okay.”

It’s decidedly not okay, but you don’t want to pressure Dazai into telling you. You want Dazai to open up to you, but you don’t want to force him to, so you force yourself to be content with the fact that he’s at least acknowledging this, instead of pretending it didn’t happen.

“I can’t,” Dazai says. 

His throat bobs beneath his bandages, dark eye uncertain as he stares down to the turbulent sea. You think a storm must be coming, the waves have become rocky, whitecaps staining the horizon, crashing into the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Dazai shifts, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“By choice?” you ask after a few moments. “Or is someone—” Mori “—forcing you to?”

“... Both,” Dazai responds after a few moments. “I…”

Dazai doesn’t finish whatever he was going to say, voice wavering. After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, he continues.

“I don’t have good memories associated with that name,” Dazai finally says, and you don’t dare to speak, hardly even dare to breathe because you don’t want to ruin whatever spurred this decision of his to crack himself open to you, afraid that if you make the wrong move, he’ll withdraw again. “... Sometimes, I miss it though.”

“That’s normal, I think,” you tell him after a moment, looking to the side to focus on him, watching the way his eyes lower at your words. “You have… better ones as… Osamu?” 

It’s your first time referring to Dazai by his first name, and from the way he inhales sharply, he recognizes it as well. There’s something distinctly vulnerable in his expression as he turns his face to you.

“I have you,” Dazai says quietly, and it’s so instant that it catches you off guard, lips parting. As if catching his own lapse in control, he blinks and then rushes to add, “And Odasaku. Ango. The slug.”

You smile a bit to yourself. “Yeah,” you agree. “You do.”

Dazai looks as if he wants to say something, his lips are parted and his gaze is uncertain. You give him a questioning look, wondering what could possibly be running through his head right now, but then he speaks.

“Shuji,” he says so softly that you barely hear him. “My name was Shuji.”

Your eyes shoot open at the admission, Dazai’s goes just as wide, as if he hadn’t actually meant to say it out loud. You open your mouth to say something but Dazai doesn’t even give you the chance to.

“You can’t use it ever, okay?” he says, voice tinged with a type of panic you’ve never heard in the boy before, dark eye filled with desperation. “Never. Not when we’re with people. Not when we’re alone. Not ever. You can’t.”

You don’t think Dazai has ever begged anyone for anything in his life, but he’s begging you now… a part of you can’t help but wonder if it’s for his sake, or yours.

“Can I say it once? Right now?” you ask quietly, swallowing thickly.

Dazai looks unsure and hesitant, but he finally nods. “Then you have to forget it, okay? You can’t ever let anybody know it. Nobody can ever know it. And nobody can know that you know, okay? No one, especially Mori.”

You don’t really like the sound of that, your gut tugging uncomfortably at the stress on Mori’s name, but you don’t want to press anymore than you have, so you agree.

With the winds howling around the cliffs to drown out your voice, and only Dazai and the stars to bear witness, you shift to face him. You reach up to cup Dazai’s cheek, fingers brushing against the bandages on the right side of his face, watching as he inhales sharply at your sudden touch. Before you can lose your nerve, you lean in to ghost your lips against his cheek. 

“Happy birthday, Shuji,” you whisper softly, pulling back to sit next to him. Your face is on fire, and Dazai doesn’t react beyond a shaky breath and his fists tightening in his lap.

Finally, instead of responding, he reaches out to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Your smile is soft, and you can feel Dazai’s fingers trembling, body uncharacteristically lax as he rests next to you.

Your free hand brushes a stray rock at your side and you turn to look at it curiously, noting the jagged edge and then getting an idea. Dazai frowns when you pull your hand from his and shift away, giving you a questioning look, but then you shift to your knees, grabbing the rock and etching your first initial into the flat rock that the two of you are sitting on. Dazai watches you carefully and when you hold it out to him, he hesitates before taking it from you.

He doesn’t do anything for a second, staring down at your initial with the jagged edge of the rock resting against the ground next to it. Finally, he takes in a steady breath before carving a ‘+ S’ right next to yours. You chew on the inside of your cheek and your eyes are a bit misty as your hand falls to trace the letters.

After a few moments, you let out another breath and settle down next to him again, a bit closer than you were before, thigh pressed firmly against his and shoulders brushing. You reach for his hand again, intertwining your fingers with his, looking up to the vast sky above.

Your lips part to speak, but the words catch in your throat, fingers tightening around his for the sparest second. He gives you a curious look and you don’t dare to look at him as you finally force the words from your lips.

“The moon… it’s pretty beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” you say quietly, throat tight as you stare up at the sky, the glittering stars and the full moon glowing above. 

You can feel Dazai’s gaze on you as he responds. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I think if I died tonight… I would die happy.”

Three years later on the early morning of June 19th, Dazai Osamu sits on the cliff’s edge in the same spot he did with you all of those years before, watching the sun break over the horizon. His fingers trace over the two engraved letters next to him, and not for the first time in the past two years he’s spent underground, he yearns. 

He yearns for you so bad that it makes his chest hurt, his stomach turns in on itself; he yearns so desperately that it’s hard for him to breathe without you, the thought of you weighing so heavily on his mind that he thinks the pressure of it might kill him. As he’s gotten closer to finally being able to leave the underground and join the Armed Detective Agency, he finds that he thinks more and more of you.

He wonders what you’re doing—if you’re thinking of him, if you hate him, if you’ve forgotten all about him. He can almost imagine you sitting here with him, shoulders brushing, thigh pressed to his, fingers intertwined.  He doesn’t know how long he’s spent sitting in that spot, fantasizing that you were there with him, longing for days with you and Chuuya and Odasaku and Ango that are long gone.

Before his thoughts can spiral any further, his phone rings—only one person would be calling him right about now, so he lets it get to the final ring before picking up.

“Fukuzawa-san is ready for you,” Ango says as soon as Dazai picks up the phone, waiting no time for pleasantries.. “Make your way over to the Armed Detective Agency when you can… Happy birthday, Dazai.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, hanging up the phone and letting out a soft breath. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and his eyes linger on the engraved initials, worn with time but still clearly visible, for only a few seconds longer. He pushes himself up to his feet and walks back down toward the beach house with the thoughts of you still clouding his head.

Yeah, Dazai thinks a bit dryly, chest heavy and aching as he looks back at where the two of you once sat three years ago. Happy birthday.

fun facts!

the inspiration for this fic came from the summer vacation bungo mayoi cards with dazai, oda and ango LOLLLL

the inspiration for the "dazai osamu not being dazai's real name" comes from the fact that irl!dazai was a pen name—his real name was tsushima shuji.

i'm gonna drop some pm!reader universe lore here too. in the pm!reader universe, i decided to go with the popular theory that dazai was the previous boss's son/grandson, which is why his word held so much weight when he vouched for mori. when everything calmed down after the death of the previous boss and after most of the old regime of loyalists had been disposed of, mori had shuji change his name to dazai osamu, to shred any connection he might have had to the previously reigning mafia family, just in case more loyalists popped up. in the present pm!reader universe (from 16-22), only kouyou and hirotsu know who dazai really is.

[astrasng]

Forbidden fruit - J.WY

pairing:idol!wooyoung x female!reader

MDNI!

summary: you think a one night stand with your best friend's brother doesn't lead you to anything.

warnings: pure smut and no other warnings

author's note: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off any true events. please do not copy the work.

enjoy!<3

Your best friend since middle school always invites you for family gatherings, birthdays, holidays because she knows what you’ve been through. Your family is fucked up, and when it’s finally summer time, her whole family is there for you to cheer you up to prevent sadness. When it's that time in the year, everyone is traveling home to the Jung house to celebrate.The whole family. The parents are not working, your best friend and you left the dorms and Wooyoung takes a break from being an idol.It’s been difficult for him to finally take off some free time and visit the family house, but now it was the time for that. He loves having you around, because he knows how much you mean to his sister. And that’s what is most important to him.

So for the sake of habit, it's summertime and it's your birthday today. And where else should you be, if not in their house?

The sun is shining, the leaves are beautiful green matching the grass, loud but not too loud music in the background as you watch your friend jump in their big outdoor pool. 

Honestly? It almost felt like you were one of them, but you can't think that. It's not something you can allow yourself after the thing you did with an idol in the family, with Jung Wooyoung.You want to feel ashamed, being guilty because for god's sake it's your best friend's brother. You would've got together with anyone else because there are other guys who want you, and Wooyoung knows that too. He feels jealous, possessive even, just thinking about it. He should focus on his idol duties and you should study to get a diploma.

But forbidden fruit is the sweetest they say, and you two can't stay away from each other since that night, however you try. That night, that happened almost a year ago now and you two tried to move on. And successfully Wooyoung did move on, or so you thought by looking at him. Whenever he had a spare time he wanted to do something about the fact that he had the best fuck in his life with his little sisters best friend. So he had hookups just to forget you, and when you noticed that, you understood what he meant by that. However, a little voice in your head said you should talk to him about it because sure as hell, you were not the only one still feeling something. The tension between you two always has been intense until it snapped.

This is what happened today too. 

You, sitting and sipping on your bottled cocktail in the perfect weather, getting a little color on your skin while waiting for your friend with more alcohol to bring. But of course you expected Wooyoung showing up some time rudely,interrupting your little alone time in the backyard with an all knowing smirk. He was wearing nothing more than swim trunks and his usual black sunglasses covering his eyes. You look at him with an arched brow and he only shakes his head. You knew exactly what he was thinking, after all this time. To be honest, it was a long time ago since the two of you met, but you still wanted to talk to him desperately.

“What?” You ask suddenly when you can still feel his stare on you. 

“You changed.” He leans back on his back and puts his arms behind his head. You furrow your eyebrows not understanding what he means by that. “I mean, when I last saw you, you looked different. Not saying it's a bad thing.” 

“Glad to see you too.” You mumble under your nose while watching his muscles flex. How is he doing that? It's like he's even bigger now than last year. He turns his head to you suddenly, catching you staring. His smirk is even bigger now and you're blushing like crazy. His hair got longer too, now all black from the blonde and black combo from last year. You never dared to tell him, but you liked his longer hair better. 

“Don't look at me like that. I heard you have a girlfriend.” You force the words out of your mouth. You really did hear that a while ago, and because you're curious (absolutely not jealous) about her, and you want to change the subject quickly before he asks or says something about how you're blushing, you end up asking this. What an ass question. 

He chuckles deeply and looks up at the bright sky. “Why are you asking? Still not over me?” 

You did wrong by asking this question. You sigh calmly and drink the rest of your drink before answering. “Please. How do you know I don’t have someone?” With a satisfied smile you lean back on your back and close your eyes. You have too much pride in you to let his cocky behavior win this time. He may have won you over last year by his smooth talk, but you changed, as he said. You learned the lesson. 

“Do you have anyone?” He looks curious, one brow arched at you.

“Maybe.” You shrug your shoulders, practically feeling his burning gaze on your body.

“You're bluffing.You don't.” He sounds tense, like he’s trying to get you to speak the truth. And you really don’t like that.

“How do you know? You said I changed..” 

In the next minute, you feel the sun getting blocked from above, so naturally, you open your eyes just to see Wooyoung standing above you, his arms appearing on both sides of your head out of the blue. “Because sweetheart,I saw how you clenched your thighs together the minute I stepped out of the house.” He breathes, his shirtless body closer to yours now, making you slightly let your guard down. You feel your skin heat up from his comment, every word dripping with lust as he scans your body from above. “And don’t think I would let you have anyone else other than me.” He adds, the smirk on his face showing his pearly white tooth. 

Before you could cut him off and brainwash him about being absolutely delusional, your best friend jumps out of nowhere into the garden, holding two cocktails in her hand. 

“Woo! You're home!!” She jumps on his brother after putting down the said liquids, hugging him tightly while Wooyoung’s groaning from the lack of air.

“Yeah, glad to be back..” He groans when she lets him go finally,patting his shoulders affectionately. You always adored the way they loved each other, no matter how old they were. You often catch yourself looking at Wooyoung playing with his youngest brother, sometimes even smiling at the both as they fight over something silly. In those times, you want to punch yourself. 

“Have you wished a happy birthday to Y/N??” She snaps her head at you quickly and then back to his.Your friend thought you two were the only one being close in the family, but if only she knew his brother was the first one wishing you a happy birthday at midnight.

He straightens up, seeing his sister still rambling about how excited she was to be finally home with everyone.So as she was distracted, he swept her in his arms and with one swing he threw her in the water. Then slowly he looks back at you, pushing his sunglasses to the tip of his nose to see you properly. “You're not swimming,birthday girl?” He asks with a grin. You wanted to slap the smile off his face, still knowing that you couldn’t do it, even if you tried. So instead,you stand up slowly, still holding eye contact. You take your shirt and jeans short off and now you're standing in a black bikini in front of him. Wooyoung can’t help but scan you up and down slowly, pushing his glasses back. 

“If you’re done staring, join us.” With a wink, you jump into the pool, the water cooling your overheated body, the waves closing above you and leaving you in your little world with your thoughts. Everytime you’re invited to their house, you feel the most welcomed. So naturally, you feel a little vulnerable still being at their place after such a long time. Getting close to everyone in the family, practically being a Jung at this point. All these actions got you into a big problem that you caused yourself. Hooking up with Wooyoung. 

You don’t exactly remember what went wrong in your head, how you got yourself into that position that your body was all over Wooyoung’s. Maybe it was that he just got back from tour, and he was staying only a few days. The tension in his body was unmatched, it was like his whole body radiated the tension off, and for some reason, you were there to catch it all. Since then, you both knew it’s more than just being family friends. It was everything, but that.

“You okay?” Suddenly, your best friend pulls you up from the water, looking worriedly at your confused gaze. You try to swipe the hair of your vision, seeing her standing with a trembling body in front of you. “You were under the water for quite some time, I thought you needed help.” She sighs, standing from one to the other. 

“I’m okay, but are you? Your lips are all purple.” I notice the way her lips are trembling too, her body covered in goosebumps. She shakes her head and groans, turning around. 

“It’s too cold for me! I’m gonna go inside, help the others with dinner.” She says, already climbing out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her body. “Stay with Woo, if you want to. Join us later, you guys just arrived, so relax.” She adds, and then leaves you in the pool within a second. It’s true that you arrived only an hour ago, driving all the way here from the city with a tired brain and back, so to be honest, it feels a little bit too good not helping the others this time. 

You scan the backyard confusedly, not seeing Wooyoung anymore as his sister said.

“What?” You breathe out, your eyebrows furrowed together as you notice two hands snaking up the side of you. “No…” As quickly as the word passes your lips, you get pulled under the water.With a yelp,you open your eyes and see a blurry figure swimming towards you. Out of pure instinct,you’re trying to swim away to the other side of the pool, but he catches your thighs and pulls you back towards them. You yelp again and bubbles float out of your mouth but you quickly shut it before you drown from lack of oxygen.Two hands appear on either side of your hip,gripping it softly. You both go up, trying to get access to oxygen as you hear him laughing while brushing his wet hair out of his face.

“It’s not funny! I almost choked on the water.” You splash some water on Wooyoung to get him to stop laughing at you, you’re patience with him running short by the time. Your hair gets in your vision again, making you slowly get annoyed as you spend more and more time in the pool.

Slowly,the same hands stroke your hair out of your face,making you finally see as he’s lifting your chin up. As you finally open your eyes, you see Woyoung’s brown eyes staring down at you with desire in them. It makes your stomach flip, but at the same time you are anxious about anyone seeing you two. Your eyes snap back to Wooyoung’s again, seeing water droplets falling down from his slicked black hair and from his honey colored skin, mesmerizing you by his visuals. You notice his plump lips being all moisturized from the water, his beauty mark decorating his perfect lips. 

“You’re okay, pretty girl?” He asks softly, his previous cocky behavior nowhere to be seen. Before you could drown yourself more in his beauty, you shake yourself a little and splash his face again, swimming further away from him. “Don’t do that ever again.” You warn him, looking back at him when you finally touch the shallow part of the pool, sitting down at the stairs. He laughs slightly, swiping the water out of his face once again, getting his body fully in the water again. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you’d get so sensitive about it.” He says, his eyes glued on you. With a shrug, you look away from him, not answering. You try to take your mind off from thinking about his hands literally touching your waist just a second ago. How you missed his hands on you. 

“What are you thinking about so much?" He asks, curiosity sitting in his voice as he tilts his head to the side.

You look at him again, a thousand questions floating in your mind. Should you question him about how his life is going? “Do you really wanna know?”  You ask while arching your brow up. He nods immediately with lustful eyes.

With a sigh, you lean back on your elbows. “Is it true?” As the question passes your lips, you don’t dare looking at him, but rather at the sky above you. The sun is getting low, the patio lights are yellowish and the pool lights just turned on. A minute passes before Wooyoung answers. “True what?” His voice is closer now, but you keep looking up.

You try to keep your guard up, even though you feel his body getting closer to you, the water moving around you slightly. “That you have a girlfriend now.” 

As you say the words, Wooyoung quickly grabs your waist, pulling your body closer to his, making your eyes snap open to land on his perfectly sculptured face. He looks deeply into your eyes, now all playfulness is gone from them. “Does it matter?” Wooyoung eyes lock on your lips as he murmured. The feeling of his gaze on your lips just confirmed the intimate moment you two have. So without another thought,you put your hands on his waist under the water where no one can see it. 

“It does. It matters to me.” The hands on your hips are gripping tighter, and your fingers crossed his v-line. Wooyoung sighs softly, closing his eyes and letting his head fall down on your shoulder. 

“No, it’s not true. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, dumbass.” He suddenly picks your legs up and puts them on his hips.This way, you’re kind of laid back on the stairs, still not fully in the water. The move caught you by surprise, now gripping his bicep.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Now it’s his turn to question, making you bite your lip in thought. 

“Because you’re kind of a celebrity.” You say it in a matter of fact way, because it’s true. Why would you suddenly call him up, when he’s traveling the world, seeing fans all around?

“It didn’t matter when I fucked you.” His voice is low now, whispering in your ear. Red color blooms across your face, making your stomach jump into a nervous knot at his voice,your thighs squeezing around his hips pulling him closer. 

You try to take a breath, thinking logically. “We can’t do that again.” Your breathing is getting heavier as your lips are getting closer to his. 

“Then why do you want it?”

You don’t know how to answer that. You seriously don’t want to answer his questions because it will only get you to be hot and bothered for nothing. And of course, he knows exactly. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I already know the answer.” His nose is brushing yours, the adrenalin is so high you’re surprised you haven’t passed out yet. “Forbidden fruit is the sweetest, right?” He tilts his head to the side, and like magnets, your lips collide with each other in a heated and heavy kiss. The way he kisses you, his hands gripping your waist to keep you close to his body makes your heady dizzy, finally satisfied to feel his lips on your again. 

Wooyoung swipes his tongue on your bottom lip, begging for entrance as you slightly open your mouth just to give him that. It’s messy, your teeth clashing together here and then as both of you urgently need the other. Like you want to hide inside him, getting more closer than ever as he wants the same. Wooyoung got needier the last time he was with you. 

No. 

“All I was able to think about was you.”

One of your hands is tangled in his black hair while the other is sliding all the way down to his swim truck. It feels wrong to do this again, but you’re far too gone now.

His hands are massaging the fat of your ass, his hardness poking at your stomach lightly as he keeps his hands glued on you.You moan softly in his mouth from the friction, then you catch him slip his fingers carefully under your bikini bottoms all the way to your clit. His smug grin appears on his face while kissing you, and never letting you go. Heavy pants surround the two of you as the moon is starting to come up to the sky, Wooyoung catching your hand to drag it all the way down to your core. 

With delicate kisses on your neck, he whispers. “Pull your panties to the side for me.” 

The way he talks has you melting in no time, forcing your brain to focus on holding your underwear to the side as you feel his fingers slide inside your warm walls.For him, it was like getting sent back to heaven. The way your walls wrap around his fingers, wishing it was his cock instead,has him moaning above you, inviting his mouth in more to feel his tongue on yours again. His pace matches with the way your breath quickens, moans and groans filling the backyard. 

“Woo, we have to stop.” You pull a few inches away to look in his lustful gaze. “I won’t stop here,Y/N” He takes the flesh on your neck between his teeth and starts sucking it. “I’m not going to wait another year for this.” He groans into your neck as his painfully hard cock brushes the side of your thigh. A whimper escapes you as you let your head fall back to the edge of the pool. “I…” 

At this time, he pushed your whole body to the tiles of the pool, and stroked himself to your core to ease his pain, his fingers now gone. He manages to get another moan out of you before a door shuts in loudly. You both jump away from each other and look up at the porch seeing the Jung family’s dog wagging his tail with a toy in his mouth. For a second a cold shiver runs through your body at the possibility that someone caught you two.But then Wooyoung’s eyes found yours again and you both let out a laugh at the pathetic situation. 

However, it was a close call. No one can ever see the two of you together, especially in this house. You watch him as he is starting to get out of the pool up to the porch to his dog to throw away his toy. He turns around and heads to the door. 

“Where are you going?” You ask as you finally get out of the pool.

“What do you think? I have to take care of this before the guests are here.” He gestures to his obvious bulge in his pants.  A giggle gets out of you and he just rolls his eyes. 

Right, the guests…

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“So, Y/N honey, how was university this year? You’re not too hard on yourself right?” Wooyoung’s mom winks at you and laughs a little as she looks at you from the head of the table. You laugh along, nodding. “Everything is fine. My grades were a little low at the beginning of the semester, but I got myself together and it’s all fine.” She smiles at you with a warm gaze and turns back to the guests at her side. 

You look around – the whole table is full, when they said that they were expecting a few cousins you thought it was really just a few, not a whole army. After you and Wooyoung got interrupted outside, you decided to go and get yourself presentable for the guests. It was an annual thing that the family invited people from here and there to throw a summer party, and it was no different now. 

“And you Wooyoung? When will we finally see you with your wife and kids on your back, huh?” An older blonde woman asked, “I heard that you have someone!” You almost let out a scoff but held back as he turned to the woman with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Oh yes, I have someone, although I don’t really know what she thinks about marriage and kids yet,” He continued  “She is closer than you might think.” 

You put your drink back down after a few coughs. The woman arched her brow. “Who wouldn’t want to marry you, honey?” She patted his hand and turned back to her partner. 

He visibly felt satisfied with that answer, the old lady practically stroking his ego with that comment. And who are you to let that slide and get to his head? Under the table, you gently stroke his crotch with your heels. He looked fantastic tonight. Wearing a white button up shirt, and a black dress pants. Simple, but on him, he looked like a Greekgod. 

He shoots his eyes to yours as you smile at him sweetly like nothing happened. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat. Let the game begin.

Slowly, he takes his small spoon and drops it under the table,your eyes following his actions. 

 Oh how cliché. - you thought.

“Oh, whoops.” He curses under his breath and looks around if anyone sees it, of course his sister looks over for just a second, then turns away and starts chatting. You already knew what was going to happen -- so you let it happen. 

Wooyoung being under the table gives you many ideas and so you prepare yourself to the worst, but then you can feel his hand slowly wrapping around your ankles. Lifting your feet out of your heels you find his crotch again, and slowly stroking it against his will. You can hear a faint groan under the table, but luckily the chatting in the room is loud enough to cover it.  Wooyoung’s fingers are bunching up your dress, just to have enough room for what he’s about to do. You quickly cover your abdomen with your napkin,then suddenly - a cold and piercing feeling strokes your wet folds making you gasp out. A few eyes land on you but you shake your head and laugh it off  “Sorry.”

What the hell?

What is he….?

Then again, you can feel the cold against your throbbing clit and his hands gripping your thighs. After a moment you realize. Your eyes widen as you mentally curse at yourself and at him. 

Is he really…?

And he strikes again. It feels so good, the cold spoon stroking your wet folds, sliding up and down making your hips move a little bit. You are trying so hard not to moan out loud as Wooyoung is working magic with a spoon. It feels so sick and disgusting, let's not mention that this is happening in front of the family. But it feels so good. He’s moving the spoon quicker by the time, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep your whines and moans. 

Like it’s not a torture enough for you,out of nowhere, he slides a finger into you, making you buck your hips up and let out a low sigh.

Once again, a few pairs of eyes look at you and - “I just feel a little nauseous, sorry.” You give them a tight smile as you grip your chair. You’re going to explode – at any minute now and he can’t control himself. You know he can’t. He gets off the pleasure of yours, he lives for your satisfaction so if he sees that you like it, it takes a lot for him to keep himself back.

His fingers are moving in sync with the spoon, but you can’t take it anymore. You push your chair back and stand up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You whisper into your friend’s ear. She nods and squeezes your hand. 

As you walk away, you glance back at the table to see Wooyoung getting up from the floor and sitting back, a visible smirk plastered on his face. You shake your head and walk towards the stairs to hurry up to the closest bathroom you find. 

It shouldn’t be obvious right? I mean if he now gets up and says he’s gonna check on you like a loving family friend, then everyone should believe that right? Fuck it. His cock was rock hard against his pants and he needed a release with you. He has been waiting for it. 

So he stands up and says the exact words he said in his head. Nobody seems to care, so he turns around and hurries to the first bathroom that comes into sight, exactly where you went.

He puts his hand on the door, but before knocking he hears a faint whimper. A rush of adrenaline shivers through Wooyoung and puts his head on the door. He smirks to himself as he knocks on the door. The minute you open up the door he pushes you against the sink and kisses you deeply. It’s intense, and quick. He doesn’t want to waste any more time. He knows you want him, just as much as he wants you. 

“You’ve been keeping yourself warm and wet for me hmm, princess?” You tilt your head back to let him lick the side of your neck. With his leg he closes the door and locks it with one hand. 

“At the table, you acted like a bitch in heat. Stroking me under the table? Fine, have it your way then.” Wooyoung hisses as he can feel you getting handsy, already unbuttoning his dress shirt as his fingers zip down your dress, kissing all over your chest.  

Your hands travel down to his pants impatiently, taking his cock out as beads of pre-cum leaks down on your fingers the minute it slaps against his abdomen. Moaning at the sight, he lifts your legs to wrap it around his waist holding you close. His broad shoulders tense when you bite his neck, marking him visibly. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that. 

“Woo,please…” Your pleading echoes in the bathroom while Wooyoung grips your thighs to keep you pressed against the sink, feeling his cock pressed against your clothed core. You grind against him, making him groan out as he tugs your panties to the side. His fingers immediately find your tight entrance,pushing them in and making you moan out as you grab his unbottuned white shirt.

“Tell me what you want, darling.” He nuzzles his nose in your neck, biting on it and kissing the hurting sensation after, while his fingers indulges in your puffy walls. It feels like your whole body is on fire, only aching for him as he’s impossibly close to you. 

“You, inside me. Now.” You tell him straight up, you’ve been waiting for this since you had your first time with him.

Wooyoung smirks to himself as he listens to your pleas. “Beg for it, baby. I know you can do better than that.” With a light lick, he leaves a mark on your neck while his fingers tease the rim of your entrance, making you squeeze your eyes shut. It really became a torture with his cocky behavior, not letting you get what you want. The air between you long gone as your hands caress his glistening abs, your mind still trying to make up to finally say the words. 

But him, seemingly sensing your doubts, he suddenly lets your legs drop to the floor, and in a second he turns you around to face the mirror. “I’ll make sure you do better than that.” Wooyoung adds, forcing your upper body to lean on the counter in front of you, caressing the skin all the way down to your core. “Be a good girl for me, and play with yourself baby.” He adds, guiding your hand once again down to your aching point. As his hands caress your ass cheeks you can’t help but let out a whine, your fingers curling around your clit to get yourself off already. But you know it won’t work like that. 

Wooyoung loved playing around, and it was no different now, as he squats down to be eyes level with your glistening pussy, waiting for his plump lips to be attached to. So he does exactly that, slowly tasting you on his tongue, making him immediately groan out. It takes you by surprise, as you feel the sensation of your fingers around your clit and his tongue shoved deep inside you. As he moans against your pussy while massaging your ass gives you a wave of pleasure, making you hang your head down to the counter, his actions resulting in you being a moaning mess. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the words.” He sounds desperate too, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. But who are you to deny him now?

“Please Wooyoung, I need you to fuck me.” You breathe out, your head getting more dizzy as he suddenly pulls away from your soaking core and smacks your fingers away from your clit, denying your climax for the third time today. 

“There you go, pretty. Was that hard, hmm?” He hums against your ears as he kisses your exposed shoulders, his hands spreading your ass further as his other hand is lining himself up to your entrance. For a few times, he strokes his tip between your folds, making him groan out as he throws his head back slightly, veins popping out on his neck. “Keep looking in the mirror.” With a simple finger on your chin he turns your case to the mirror, watching yourself almost drool at the way he’s teasing your hole. “I want you to see yourself fall apart on my cock.” 

And with one simple move, he pushes his leaking tip into your warm walls, groaning at the feeling finally being inside you. “You’re so tight, Y/N. Fuck.” He groans, his hands gripping your waist as you try to inhale normally. As much as you want to keep your head up and watch his cock slide in and out of you, you can’t help but let your head hang down at the feeling of him throbbing inside you, his cock brushing against your cervix with one swift thrust. 

Wooyoung remained in place as he let out an erotic moan at the depth, while you on the other hand, were panting and trying desperately to blink away the tears out of your vision. “See, princess? See how much of a whore you are for me?” Wooyoung added as you tried to get a grip on something. 

“Mhmm” You couldn’t even form a word at this point, already deep into the feeling of him finally being inside you again. 

The sound of his waist hitting your ass echoed loudly in the bathroom, and the sound only got more repetitive as he began to properly move. His cock was so deep inside you, that you can see a bulge forming in your stomach when you look down between your bodies. 

“You’re so perfect, doll.” He grunted, dropping his head on your back momentarily then thrusting into you mercilessly. “So fucking good. You’re so tight and-- fuck!” He moaned out when you clenched down on him uncontrollably, making him lose his mind. “Shit, don’t squeeze me like that,” He grunted once again, swiping his hair out of the way. “You nearly made me come.” 

“D-don’t act like – ahh – you didn’t like that.” You panted out, little groans leaving you as you put your hand on the mirror in front of you. 

Wooyoung smirked, seeing the struggle of your hands not going anywhere. So in one swift motion, he pulled out and turned you around, making you sit back down on him without a warning as he fully seated back on the toilet, making you squeeze down on him again. With a satisfied sigh, he brushed your hair out the way and kissed the side of your neck. This way you felt him deeper inside you, almost thinking he can rearrange your insides. Without another sane thought, he thrusted up into you, making your eyes roll back, holding back a moan.

“Let me hear you, pretty.” Wooyoung thrusted up continuously as you tried to ride him, your nails bunching up his shirt on his back, your hand sneaking up into his hair to finally feel them between your fingers. He sighs into the crook of your neck as you scratch his scalp, however, he refuses to give you a break, continuously drilling his cock in you, his lips itching down to your collarbone. His cock kept rubbing along the perfect spot, making you cry out in a quiet – “Right there Woo,”. And the louder you cried, the more intense that feeling got. You could barely see through the blurry and teary eyes as he watched you with fully blown dark eyes and jaw tense as he fucked almost split you open. The hands that were grabbing your waist a second ago quickly pulled your bras down to attach his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and biting down on it as he was trying to get something out of it. Your toes curled as he switched between the two, his waist refusing to stop as he thrusted up into you powerfully, his hands slamming you down on his cock. 

“You’re tightening up, doll. Are you gonna cum?” Wooyoung could barely laugh as he groaned his question, feeling you clenched down on him again, now your climax is inevitable. 

“Yes, fuck! Woo, I’m gonna-” You whined, hugging his head closer to your chest as your release closed in. 

“Come baby, let me feel you milking me dry.” He groaned, the grip on your waist tightened as he moved his hips at a rapid speed, making you reach your climax in no time. Cumming around his cock you throw your head back as he bites into your nipple once again to contain his moans, feeling himself throbbing inside you uncontrollably. With a final thrust, he paints your walls white as he still feels your clenching around him, making him groan deeply, pulling you tightly against him while he watches his own cum oozing out around his cock. With a chuckle, he gathers it with his finger and brings it up to your lips to taste. A confused look plasters on your fucked out face, trying to breathe normally again as you watch him smile sweetly at you. 

“You don’t think I’m done with you, right, birthday girl?” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

i wrote this to my lovely friend who had their birthday recently<3 @liloraet

[bitchlessdino]

i just read fuck marry kill and it was sooooooo good gah i love it , idk if its rude to ask thos but can u make a mingyu wonu and seungcheol version of it too? they are my baises and i would love something like that !! u can alternate the setting if u please :>

tysm 💘

-💫

Pairing: fem!reader x ex!mingyu x seungcheol x wonwoo

Genre: smut

Word count: 5.6k

tags: poly, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, pet names (princess), unprotected sex (except cheol), praise kink, spanking, clit slapping, fingering, oral (rec. and giving), u, pussy slapping, ass play, triple penetration

Summary: one dumb party game makes a comeback.

author note: tbh i initally wondered how someone could ask to replace some of the members in the original, but then I realized how grateful that it got the attention it did that another version was requested. these were honestly really fun to write and I'm glad to have found a way to tie in the last version and this one to make a spinoff!

“Fuck Cheol, obvious because he has the experience. Marry Wonwoo because he just seems like he knows how to treat someone well. And duh, kill Mingyu because he’s Mingyu.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

You glance back at the man you hypothetically killed, now giving you a cold dead stare, making you grin smugly before taking a swig from your beer. “Takes one to know one.”

He raises a brow, now leering at you, “I hope you’re alone forever.” 

You slightly slam your empty bottle on the coffee table, “And I can already tell you’re halfway there.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, “Oh yeah, remind me again who approached who?”

“Remind me again who also dumped who?”

Mingyu was baffled. It had been months since you both had broken up and you still used that to pull over his head. You had your reasons for ending things, he knew that but had hoped to salvage some of the good left in your relationship with him. Once it was over, you mutually agreed on being friends, willing to forget about all that’s happened because you were friends first, but he knew that better than anyone, that shit was never easy.

“Uh, guys?”

Wonwoo’s voice, despite being as timid as it was, asserted attention with two words alone. Mingyu and you look at Wonwoo, still angry at one another, but melt at their friend’s concern, putting aside their petty disagreement. You exhale in an attempt of calming your heart rate and pat Wonwoo’s hand reassuringly, “We’re good. Just how we are. Mingyu gets it.”

Wonwoo was never one for conflict. He was the glue to hold this entire group together. If it wasn’t for him, the terror couple would've never made up the way they did.

“Yeah, we’re just horsing around, but that does remind me,” Mingyu is quick to turn the attention to Seungcheol, a cheeky smile bright on the younger man’s face, “You promised to discuss the details of what happened after the birthday party.”

The eldest arches a brow, amused by Mingyu’s statement, and decides to entertain the idea, “When the hell did I promise that?”

“You didn’t, but you might as well after I caught that group chat,” Mingyu scoots closer to him,  “Go on, tell us all about you having to share with three other dicks.”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue, already scolding him. “There were two other dicks, first of all. Secondly, it just happened. You can’t really plan a foursome.”

You peer over at him intrigued. “You technically can, but considering you just did it out of nowhere, I don’t know whether to be disgusted or impressed. I thought you’d be way more responsible and boring than that.”

His eyes shoot back at your assumption. “I am not fucking boring and you can be responsible in an orgy! We all knew what were doing, we all consented, and we were all clean–”

“Boring…get on to the part where three of your dicks were in her at once.” A flying head smack makes its destination to the back of Mingyu’s head and instantly he’s offended, glaring back at his assailant. “Hey!”

“Don’t talk about anything you’re uncomfortable with Cheol. It’s your dick, it’s your sex life,” You reassure.

“Well, it’s not just my story to tell so I’ll leave it at this.” All ears perk in his direction, even Wonwoo, who was quietly observing, couldn’t help but ponder on the rare experience Seungcheol had at that birthday party. “There is nothing more satisfying than seeing a pussy so full. I kid you not, I would do it over and over again just to see the look on her face.”

Not a dry eye in his audience. You hold your hand over your mouth in shock, Mingyu’s howling like the moon had just come out, and even Wonwoo was stunned at such an obscene statement, blinking into the distance like he’s in The Office. Seungcheol, filled with pride, picks himself off from the ground and dusts any dirt off. “I’ll be back. Too much beer. No one kill anybody.”

He ambles off to the restroom, closing the door behind him.

“Ah,” Wonwoo claps his sweater paws together, “there’s a game I was waiting to buy. I still have some time before then. Need to be first in line.”

He hurriedly gets up from the floor and rushes to his room, “I’ll be back! 20–30 minutes tops!”

You two are left alone and awkward silence fills the air. Things were never really the same since your relationship ended, but things weren’t ever really it when you were together either.

“Foursome huh?” You ponder. “Didn’t seem like his kind of activity but if he enjoys it.”

Mingyu scoffs, ready to start smth again. “What? Jealous he’s getting more action than you?”

“Not jealous, just worried. How can a human body take that much cock and still walk around all normally? Happy birthday to them,” you snicker.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to worry about that many dicks wanting to be inside you.”

You glare at him, your teeth grinding behind your fake smile. “You sure talk a lot for someone as bitchless as you are.”

“Excuse you, I am fucking stacked with pussy right now, speak when you have your facts right, ‘mmkay?”

You let out a curt guffaw, “Please, you are so fucking lucky you had me when you did. No damn way in hell you could’ve gotten laid without me.”

Mingyu slouches, drawing his jaw open. “Wow. I get it now”

“Get what? How big of a loser you are?”

He shakes his head. “No...You miss my dick so bad.”

You make a show of yourself laughing, even physically doubling over. “In your fucking dreams, you human pandemic.”

“Admit it. You miss our sex. It’s why you’re such a fucking a bitch to me. To throw my game off.”

“Oh honey, you don’t need my help doing that.”

“Please! You got this territorial thing because we were each other’s first. You’re obsessed with me. I see that now.”

“Right, you’re drunk,” you pick yourself up from the ground this time and saunter off to the kitchen, “I couldn’t care less about who you sleep with. As long as it doesn’t involve me.”

“You’re such a liar,” he insults as he gets up to follow.

He positions himself by your side as you distract yourself in the kitchen, mindlessly looking for, well, anything. Why was every cupboard empty? You really have to remember to go grocery shopping with Wonwoo later.

“Am not,” You insist, no finding haven in the fridge, which also happened to be barren of things except half a dozen eggs, a carton of milk, and for some reason a box of m&ms.

“You can’t even look me in the eyes right now. Say it while looking at me.”

You scoff without looking, “I don’t have to prove myself.”

“Why? Because you can’t? Admit it.” His hand trails over your backside as you stall at the fridge, trailing underneath your shirt and sending chills.

You can practically count his breaths as his lips ghost over your ears, smiling against your skin. You almost let out a gasp at the close proximity of his hips pressed into your back, your heartbeat heightening, but immediately close your mouth shut, not giving him the satisfaction. That didn’t bother him though, your body language was enough. You were frozen under pressure, unable to fight back, let alone talk back, similar to how you used to get in the past only minutes before he gets you cum like the mess you were. 

His hand slides over your bare stomach, feeling you tense it up as a result. “You loved when I ate out your dirty little pussy. You begged for it. Remember?”

You shudder at his touch, gripping the handle of the fridge for safety, “Mingyu—“

“Don’t think I forgot how you moaned my name either,” he finds the top button of your pants with ease, unbuttoning it and pulling the metal zipper down, “Tell me to stop. Otherwise, I’ll just keep going.”

When you grow silent, he takes it as a sign to keep going. He presses his lips to the back of your ear, hand falling to your thigh and cupping over your clothed cunt. You dip into the fridge’s cold, taming the heat in your body, while Mingyu makes that difficult to resist. Your back arch, fitting seamlessly to Mingyu’s figure, soft, yet desperate, sighs escaping from your lips.

“Mingyu please…”

“Mmh, just like that…” he nibbles against your ear, slowly and cautiously he sinks his hand down your pants and finds your arousal, a thin film of it already coating his fingers, “your voice was pretty just like that. Whining about how you need my dick inside of you or begging to let you cum on my fingers. You were such a sweet little slut for me. Tell me you don’t miss that.”

You’re shaking so much, you could feel your legs seconds away from giving out. You shut the refrigerator close and turn to face him, leveraging yourself against the appliance’s cool exterior. He pins himself against you, sliding his digits between your slit, making contact with the clit, and pinching it between his thumb and index. You can’t help but crack a small moan, only loud enough for him to hear, and he just chuckles. “There you are. Old habits die hard don’t they?”

He does his best in reminding you of the old times, even rubbing your pussy how he used to, getting your sweat pilling on your forehead, or your voice getting raspy as if you were left to die in a desert. Fuck him for still having that effect on you. 

“Please…you’ll get us caught.” You plead weakly.

“You say that like you actually want us to get caught.”

He pulls out his fingers from your pants, sticking them in his mouth before sucking your juices from them. You watch in a hypnotized state, mouth gaping in envy, desperate to have his lips wrapped around you, your lips, your cunt, anywhere as long as it's your body. “Sweet. Just like how I remember.”

You gulp hard, staring back into his carnal gaze, and observe as he slowly pulls out his fingers and rests them against your cheek, parting your lips back with his thumb. 

“Am I interrupting something?”

As an impulse, you push Mingyu several feet away from you, hiding your undone pants behind a kitchen counter. The taller man can’t help but suppress his boisterous laughter threatening to seep out and only glances back at his friend’s sudden appearance in amusement, feeling like the victor in the situation. Meanwhile, you made yourself physically small, tucking away in the corner of the kitchen where he can’t see you panic while fixing your pants but inevitably fail. “S-Seungcheol.”

Mingyu lets his smugness show. “I don’t know. Is he, Y/n? Is he interrupting something?”

“No, of course not. Just caught me a…rough spot.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Look, if you guys are going to have sex and get back together. No one is stopping you.”

“Excuse me,” you feel rather insulted at his assumption, it was condescending entirely.

“Come on, it was bound to happen eventually. Save us, the tittering and whatever.”

You push past Mingyu to walk straight to Seungcheol, shoving his heavy build. “What I do with my body and my life is not up to Mingyu or you, Choi Seungcheol. Fuck you.”

He leers down at you. “Don’t get mad at me because you know I’m right, you brat.”

“Oh, because you fuck with a few extra people, you think you know everything, don’t you?”

“More than your ‘only Mingyu having ass’,” he taunts.

If Mingyu was the ex, and Wonwoo’s the innocent bystander, Seungcheol, in your case, was a shit stirrer. He pushes your buttons about the same as Mingyu some of the time. He was supposed to be your closest friend, your longest friend. Somewhere that had changed. You used to tell each other everything and now he was getting into threesomes? 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck you.” You push him back onto the couch behind him, having him collapse seamlessly against it before you’re straddling him.

Your lips latch onto him assertively, tugging and, no doubt, stretching his plain tee. If Seungcheol minded, he didn't seem to show it, and instead kisses you back, matching your aggression. Although initially startled, it doesn’t take him long to adjust to your pace. He handles your body as if he belongs to him, gripping you by the back of your neck as his other hand tucks around the shape of your ass, firmly squeezing it.

“You’re so, mmh, f-frustrating sometimes.” You manage to comment between your moans.

He snickers under his breath, hand running through your hair and pulling at its strands, tugging your head back, “And you can be a real bitch.”

Your blossoming attraction for him only made it all the more frustrating. You always did notice that he behaves a more particular way around you over the past few years. Somewhere between distant and insensitive. Whatever it was, you were gonna take it out on him, and maybe that’s what he wanted.

Scoffing, you grind against his bulge, harshly brushing it against your cunt. “I’ll show you a bitch.”

He grunts beneath your efforts, quickly returning your offense. His hands travel underneath your shirt, pressing into your flesh. His teeth bite down, pulling on your bottom lip, and you can sweet his smile as he does it. He thrusts up into you, rocking back at your core, waiting to fill out what you’ve been dying to entrust him with. The thought itself made you wet (as if you weren’t already from that little incident with Mingyu).

The man that previously had been watched was now the one watching. It was all face paced but it was like he watching in slow motion. He observes the placement of Seungcheol’s hands, and how they grabbed you possessively, even hearing the growl under the elder’s breath. Your moans grow louder when the man’s lips are suctioned around your neck, your nails noticeably digging as his hands slide lower to feel the bare ass beneath your jeans.

Mingyu sucks in his breath, repositioning the spot in his jeans. He impulsively licks his licks, unable to look away. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Me neither.”

Startled, Mingyu cups his erection as his eyes shoot up alert, finally noticing his four-eyed friend has emerged from his bedroom without so much as making a single wood board squeak. “The fuck? Did you come back from the shadow realm?”

Wonwoo shrugs nonchalantly. “The deed is done, and this is a thing now, I guess.”

Wonwoo just how Mingyu felt about you over the years despite the flaming misalignments with your personalities. He couldn’t imagine the thoughts running in his best friend's head right now.

He turns Mingyu in concern, seeing the man’s eyes glisten in the scene's direction. “You okay?”

Was he? He’s looking at one of his best friends furiously getting it on with his ex, neither of them giving a damn who watches and he should be furious. He should be enraged. He should be at least bothered by what’s happening, but no. Only one thing was furious.

“No,” Mingyu answers, “I’m horny.”

He leaves Wonwoo’s company to join you and Seungcheol on the couch, immediately taking your head back in a hungry kiss as Seungcheol finds solace back on your neck, finding weak weak points in mere seconds, and you can’t help but moan in Mingyu’s liplock. Wonwoo is at first confused about what to do, only able to watch at first until his curiosity piques.

In the midst of his observation, you’ve gone pantless, quickly followed by Seungcheol and Mingyu, and has quickly adjusted to double the attention. Seungcheol manages to pull out a few spare condoms from his wallet all too conveniently, handing one off to Mingyu, who was ready to whip his angry erection out any second. He then lays his eyes on Wonwoo, staring off in his direction, still suckling on your neck. He gestures to him to take the extra condom, nonverbally inviting him into the spontaneous mix.

The bystander hesitates, staring back at the silver wrapper as if it was a foreign object, unsure if he was really offered to join or had this situation become a common courtesy for a latecomer such as him.

“Take the condom, Woo. You’re gonna need it with what we’re about to do,” Seughcheol ushers against your flaming skin.

Wonwoo inches closer in baby steps, hand stretching out and grasping the plastic, and at the same time, you pull away from either man from the couch, turning your whole attention to Wonwoo. You grab him by his collar and smash against his lips. It’s strange, almost wrong at most, you were already occupying someone else’s lap, but in a strange way, empowering. His hand crawls up the side of your face to deepen the kiss, feeling your tongue explore his mouth just as you did the other two, while they were only able to watch. 

Exhibitionism, let alone orgy, was never on his bingo card. Sex for him wasn’t even that regular an occurrence for him, but he could see now the taste of what Seungcheol was talking about. There was something satisfyingly carnal about sharing someone. You play into their hands as if your life depended on it, but felt all that same arousal anyone else in that group did.

With that thought in mind, it invoked something in Wonwoo. Shivers ran down his spine the moment your hand goes to cup the bulge of his track pants, feeling him grow bigger in size when you slip past the waistband and slid beneath his briefs. His eyes fluttered at the soft sensation of your fingertips, teasing the precum squeezing out of the head.

“You feel so big, Woo,” you gasp out as your grasp travels down his length, “let me suck on it, please.”

The man shifts in his seat, delirious to the point of being mute, only able to nod triumphantly as you begin tugging the pants and underwear off, collecting the fabric at his ankles.

“Princess,” Seungcheol beckons, “why don’t you lay your stomach on my lap to get closer to Wonwoo’s cock.”

You nod obediently, satisfied with your new pet name, getting off of Seungcheol’s lap to place yourself back on again, this time your ass in view for Seungcheol and Mingyu to appreciate. Mingyu’s teeth catch his bottom lip, groping himself through his briefs. “Fuck.”

He can’t help but land a full-handed spank against your cheek, causing you to flinch after your grip wrapped around the base of Wonwoo’s cock and he feels a tight squeeze around his girth and he throws back his head from the sensitivity, “Gyu, for god’s sake.”

“Sorry, dude, couldn’t help myself,” the younger man chuckles, “but she likes that. You like all our attention on you, don’t you?”

You let out a light chuckle, a smug grin stretching over your face. “Yes, yes I do.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help fixating on your ass pulling your waistband down to the curve and sliding a dry finger up your wet slit, groaning at simply how gloriously wet you were. “Shit. You’re fucking soaked. You can take my fingers right, princess?”

“Mmh, yes, Cheol. Give it to me…”

As you’re spitting into your hand, stroking handfuls of Wonwoo in your hand, you can feel Seungcheol fitting two digits in your moisture and hooking them in place. He goes easy on you, mildly prepping you, while you drop your head and wrap your lips around the tip of Wonwoo’s length, swirling circles on to lap up the bit of his precum, your soft giggles vibrating against the spectacled man.

His gaze softens at you, petting your hair and caressing your cheek. “So…pretty…”

“Thank you,” you reply, taking half his size in your mouth, and feel how he hugs your cheeks.

Wonwoo lets outs hushed whimpers, exhaling out of his nose, his fingers impulsively finger through your hair and take grip. Through his shut eyes, he can feel the nodding of your head, the vigor of your tongue, and finally the head of his cock hitting your uvula, bobbing back and forth. “S-shit, like that, yeah…”

He can feel himself physically shuddering, glancing back at the lure of your eyes as your mouth collects every inch, every vein, and moan that escapes his lips. His hand guides you, pushing you deeper around his cock and the sounds of your efforts were euphoric, especially how they were followed by Seungcheol’s work, who found himself slamming his fingers back into you like a jackhammer. You slightly jump, vibrating around Wonwoo as you cried out obscenities.

“Mmph, more, please,” you beg, bringing a smile to both Seungcheol and Mingyu’s faces.

Seungcheol used another hand to give spanks on either one of your cheeks, playing with you like a set of drums. They get tender in his grasp, making them more fun to squeeze and there’s that pleasant way your backside jerks towards him, knowing he’s doing everything right.

It was then Mingyu had an idea. While his other friends handled you their way, he had no choice but to find his own choice of sport. He pulls himself up from the couch, excited to spring back into action, and goes on to grab something from your room. He disappears as quickly as he returns, a familiar transparent squeeze bottle in his hand. He goes on a knee to your side, squeezing the cold sticky substance on your unpreoccupied hole, squirting circles around your quivering rim.

“Remember when you thought we wouldn’t use this again? Looks like now’s the time. Are you ready for that?” He asks with a Cheshire smile as he closes the cap and puts the bottle aside.

You moan a confirmation, nodding your head complacently. His chuckles are sickly sweet as he draws his lips close to your ear, teasing his digit from entering. The moment it enters you mentally prepare yourself for the sensation, know damn well you could never get used to that. Mingyu groans at how you swallow his middle digit as he churns it inside you, another hand coming against your tender cheeks. “Fucking slut. Like us filling all your holes, hmm?”

There is no way you can physically answer as you feel yourself gag as you reach your limit with Wonwoo, who at this point doesn’t hear others and uses your mouth with only the thought of getting off down your throat. You finally croak out a yes before two of Wonwoo’s hands grip your head and slam you down the base when you least expected him to. Tears run down your eyes, your cheeks hot, feeling yourself suffocated, you dig your nails into Wonwoo’s thighs, white crescents appearing on his skin. 

He groans long and loud, jerking his hips as he’s dumping some of his load down your throat but pulls out from the overstimulation, having the rest shoot on your face. The translucent thick ribbons stain your cheeks and drip off your chin down to his thigh. Red face and a hot sweat beading from his forehead. Wonwoo finally collects himself enough to look back at you apologetically, visibly embarrassed.

“I’m so, so sorry, Y/n.”

Instead of letting him feel sorry for himself and you, you take Wonwoo’s hand and use it like a napkin, swiping his cum on his fingers. He’s stunned when he sees it, a quarry of your actions stuck and stopped at his throat until you take that hand and enter it in your mouth, your tongue catching his release. The man’s abdomen tense, letting your hand suck his fingers off clean and you hold them in there, filling your mouth with another body part of Wonwoo that day.

“Goddamnit, Y/n. You really can’t help yourself.” He comments blatantly lost in awe.

Your body curled up in Seungcheol’s lap helplessly, trembling, slick moisture seeping out of you at their mercy. The others can hear the anguish in your muffled voice, how close you get with fingers thrust inside you with only every passing second, only to have that ecstasy slip away as their fingers pull out. You whine in retaliation, their collective chuckles mocking you, even Wonwoo couldn’t help but find the scene amusing. 

“Can’t have you cum that quickly, can we?” Seungcheol taunts.

He roughly tugs up your body until your back is toward his chest, feeling your perspiration against his torso. He shrugs off his briefs and your underwear is quick to follow, the tips of his fingers now rubbing your arousal all around your entrance, adding the slick substance to your already lubed up rim. You mewl at his fingers, your hands gripping against his forearm but lacking the willpower to have an effect. His teeth graze your eye, pulling you by the cartilage. “We’re gonna fill you out so nice, you’ll beg for more…perfect little holes for us to use…tell us what you want, princess.”

You let out a shallow breath, “I want…to feel full. I want you inside me.”

His hand lands on his cock, hard and naturally aligned at your rim, before testing Mingyu's prep work, “Good girl…feeling so perfectly tight…”

Seungcheol can’t forget how it closed around him while he takes a long gradual stroke inside. He groans loudly, filling you until your moans give out. His hands plant against the backside of your thighs to lift them and fold them against you, pushing his length in. Your eyes rapidly shake, the white of them visibly, and you welcome Seungcheol’s cock with his name on your tongue. “F-fuck yes…more Seungcheol…”

Wonwon doesn’t know what gets over him when he finds himself staring back at your glistening folds, looking at your pulsing clit like it was the last m&m. His flaccid cock now twitching upright in his lap, he licks his lips, not taking his eyes away from you. “Seungcheol spread her legs out more.”

The elder man gave a knowing smile and did as requested, and your pussy stretches open, your clit more evident than before. Soon Wonwoo has mustered the strength to put his face up to your entrance and suck on the bulging nub like a straw, watching your toes curling as soon as he does. You can feel his subtle smiles against your arousal, the curve of it pulling at your folds.

“Shit,” you whisper, throwing your head back against Seungcheol’s shoulder, panting against the man’s cheek.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol teases, “You haven’t gotten enough just yet.”

Mingyu gets up from where he sits, stroking his cock in his hand. He comes to your side, the tip of his length angles at your lips, and you look up at him in anticipation. He mocks you, tapping himself against your lips. “Beg for it. Go on. Whore.”

You sigh defeatedly, “Please, Mingyu…I need your cock in my mouth…”

“Isn’t that nice? You can shut up.” He chuckles to himself.

He takes hold of your head, prodding your lips apart with the head of his cock inside, and sees how easily it slides in your mouth. You moan around his girth, as the jerk of his hips pushed himself deeper inside you. It's almost how fast it happens just as you don’t remember how it began. All you knew was it felt amazing nothing like you ever felt. You never knew you could want this–no, you never knew how much you needed this.

“Want to fuck you, Y/n? Can I?” Wonwoo asks politely against your core.

You nod with your mouth full, coughing out Mingyu’s cock given the opportunity. “Yes, Wonwoo, I want you…I want all of you…please fuck me full…”

Saying that out loud was enough of a motive to flip the script. Seungcheol, still inside, lays flat against the couch, head propped against the couch arm. Wonwoo gives Mingyu a knowing look, letting his friend go first. Mingyu scoffs, “I’m coming for you, Y/n.”

“Not yet, you are,” You retort.

“And you said I’d never get be inside you again. Things can happen.”

Mingyu lets his cock slip around your arousal before he’s reunited with your fluttering walls, a nostalgic hum leaving his lips. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Mingyu—You both—ah fuck, feels so g-good…”

Mingyu and Seungcheol carry a mismatched pace, their uneven breaths fill the air as you take it, take them. Your voice sounds of agony but rather the opposite, you couldn’t feel more bliss. Wonwoo mentally and physically readies himself, his cock almost back to full power. He joins the party when he feels the fire in him, thanking himself for getting a big enough couch, and hovering on top of you.

You hadn’t noticed it before but something was missing from the man joining, and not his clothing. “Your g-glasses…”

“Ah,” he smiles, “put them aside, didn’t want them to break.”

“Hmm, it’s n-nice looking you in the e-eyes for o-once.”

“I’ll make sure to make it happen more often…Tell me if I’m hurting you. If any of us do.”

You hum a yes, finding his lips reattach to yours soon after. Wonwoo gives himself one last stroke before its mere centimeters away from Mingyu’s, finding the right angle to join his friend. It’s not an easy feat sharing space, but he finds a way, pushing through to stretch you wide and open, collective moans coming from all ends.

“Holy shit,” you screech, “so many c-cocks…”

“You’re taking us so too, Princess. I knew you could do it,” Seungcheol exclaims.

Mingyu was getting a thrill out of this, “Of course she can, Y/n is a bigger dirty slut than she makes herself out to be. She enjoys it, hmm? Say it.”

“I en—love it. I love the cocks in me so much…”

“Shit, you’re so pretty for that,” Wonwoo claims on your neck, pounding now faster, “say that again for us please.”

“I love your cocks fucking me…fucking my pussy and ass…”

Mingyu missed how you gave your everything during sex, groaning louder and louder the tighter you try to clench, how closer he realizes he’s getting. “She’ll say anything to cum…don’t let her.”

Mingyu’s hand comes up from behind Wonwoo to slap your clit, pinching to hear you whine. “You cum too soon, we’ll just fuck you over and over again. I want white to cover every inch of your body, clear?”

“Y-yes…sir…”

“Perfect little whore.”

You feel the rutting in and out of you like clockwork, overwhelmed by all the different energies your body accepts. Your moans, your screams, or your tears could never tell the full story of the euphoria of your feeling. Your arms embrace Wonwoo, latching on his hair and face, kissing him on his swollen lips, and feeling hot to the point you could confuse it for inferno, or that you were part of inferno yourself.

Seungcheol swallows back his drool, blind in ecstasy flowing through him and now reaching up to the surface. His fingers dig deeper into your thighs and the sounds of skin slapping drown out his moans. Seungcheol clutches you against him as he whispers, “you okay with me cumming in your ass princess, hmm, is that what you want?”

“Yes,” You answer in a hushed tone, “please I want you to cum in my ass…”

You feel his relieved sighs on your neck, slamming his body into you harder. You’re stretched like elastic, wearing down at their rough touch, until Seungcheol does as promised, squeezing his load and shooting it up in gradually staggering pumps until he’s empty and drops his rubber covered cock out to drip back onto the fabric of the couch.

That had been your final straw, feeling your climax erupt only immediately after Seungcheol. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…”

Wonwoo kisses your cheek in response but doesn’t stop. Mingyu on the other hand slaps against your clit harder repeatedly, reveling in the wretched noise you make. “Cum all you want…we'll take it…like you’re gonna keep taking us.”

Wonwoo grunts alone by himself, Holding you against him like it's the last, helping Mingyu keep his word and fuck you senseless. He was a good friend, he was good at helping his friends. That friendly nature makes you weak to the sensitivity after, whining under their touch, shaking on top of Seungcheol, as he tenderly fondles your breasts in his rest. It feels endless, not like you’re complaining, but a somewhat bit of relief is obvious when both of the remaining men cum in you simultaneously.  Friends that cum together, stay together, you guess.

“You gonna take our cum?” Mingyu pokes, his cock ruts in you like a man with no control.

“Y-yes.” You choke out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, yes, I can take your cum, please. Please. Cum in my pussy, I need your loads in me.”

“Wait condoms? You guys aren’t wearing any?” Seungcheol voiced out.

Wonwoo shakes his head as Mingyu aguishly blurts out a “no.”

“Aw, fuck you guys.”

“Mmp, mmph,” that was the sound of Wonwoo biting into your shoulder, his sweet white dispersing into you perfectly with Mingyu to follow. Ther loads meshed well together like they do, becoming one with your climax, dripping out of your brim like oozing honey: sweet, creamy, sticky. The perfect symphony to showcase the perfect vessel, capable of catching their cum.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—”

Mingyu moans out his climax just as you remember, just as voluminous and rich. He’d laugh if he knew how much you would think about hearing it again. Your tired bodies part from each other, panting loudly inches away from each other, staring mindlessly into the space in front of them. You were the particularly spent and Wonwoo, the first to notice and care, picks up by your knees and carries you, fulfilling his duties as your designated roommate. “You’re okay, right?”

“Mm, I’m good, Woo.” you softly respond in his arms, you turn to the other two men fatigued on the couch, “I’m taking a shower first, assholes. Only Wonwoo can join.”

Wonwoo smiles with a blush on his cheeks, while the others roll their eyes.

“What? Why only Wonwoo?” Seungcheol questions.

“He treated me nicer. Think about it the next time we all fuck.”

Wonwoo looks back at you with a surprised look before taking you away to the bathroom. You leave Mingyu and Seungcheol to look back at each other, pondering on your response, taking all the world, space, and time to process your words.

Simultaneously. “Next time?”

[cillivnz]

a good host [k. heisenberg]

PAIRING — KARL HEISENBERG x DIMITRESCU!READER

TROPE — DBF! [here, mother’s friend, no really close relation] WORD COUNT — 2469

WARNINGS — NSFW. 18+. fem!reader. f!masturbation, usage of sex toys, virgin!reader, voyeurism, hefty age-gap (reader is in early 20s, Karl is in his 50s), vaginal fingering, innocence/corruption kink, cursing, pet-names (bunny, little girl, etc.), slight degradation (he calls you a whore), slightly mean!Karl, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, squirting, overstimulation, clit-play.

A/N — i just think heisenberg would be a good fuck, that’s it— that’s what motivated this. i’m slowly rising like a phoenix out of the fires of writer’s block, so, slowly but surely i’m trying to get back on track with my requests and works. though, a full comeback might take a few months. no mention of Alcides [ gender-bent Lady Dimitrescu ], didn’t want to jinx the two verses, so Alcina is Alcina.

more from my ‘resident evil: village’ world.

“FUCK,” YOU GROAN as you shut the door to your chambers behind you.

you’d excused yourself for the umpteenth time, now inconsiderate of how rude you would seem to the man you’ve been leaving all alone in the cold and empty dining room of your manor.

well, your mother’s.

and a friend, too.

well, not a friend.

Karl Heisenberg and Alcina Dimitrescu would prefer the term, “(unfortunate) associates”, but manners run well in a noble’s blood so it’s natural for the two to try and be cordial.

and it’s the same manners, the same etiquettes instilled in you that have put you in this state.

flushed, embarrassed, and wet.

you couldn’t bare to look Heisenberg in the eye while he made small talk with you in your home.

his round, black glasses were perched on the tip of his strong nose, his hat, like a loyal companion, sat next to him on a wooden chair, his greyed hair, out and frisky. his overcoat had been long abandoned, perhaps, at the very entrance to the castle, so his beige undershirt, clasped around his big broad muscles and softer belly didn’t go unnoticed by you.

fuck, the more you took in his appearance, the hotter became the air in the room, your ability to breathe and the more frantically you’d rub some friction between your thighs.

YOU’VE FOUND KARL HEISENBERG INSATIABLE since you were a little girl, which you still were in his eyes, as he painfully reminded you every time by referring to you by that and nothing else. as of lately, your urges around him have worsened.

since your eighteenth birthday, Heisenberg’s began to look at you a little differently.

he listens carefully to the squeaky little bunny that’s lately got the balls to interrupt her own mother and company, correct them in political matters. yeah, Heisenberg’s began to notice you. earlier, your greetings would be dismissed with a nonchalant wave in the air, but now? heisenberg could hear you talk for hours, so desperately wanting to hear the sultry tone of your voice that he’d ask to hear the same story about your earliest memory hunting, over and over again.

so, to say he felt appalled by your frequent exits from your evening together— an evening he had committed to your mother, had Alcina been home— was an understatement.

after the third time you had left him alone, his impatience and ego got the best of him, though there was an undertone of curiosity there, too. so, he, sly as a fox, followed you to your room.

your back was pressed against the door, muffling your cries while you rubbed your clit down with a toy. you were in a trance, mind fogged with painful lust that drove your legs on its own fervour. you sink into your bed, ripping your dress off of yourself in a swift motion, and hiding your bare skin with a poor excuse of a duvet.

your toy was swimming in your slick with every rub against your cunt.

“fucking hell,” you moaned when the tip of the toy nudged your slit, massaging your hole, easing in only to pull out immediately.

while you edged yourself, thoughts of Karl crawled in, like their usual tendency. you fantasised about his big hands, how they were resting on your knee for a brief second, before continued sipping on his earl grey tea.

you sighed when his name escaped your parted lips. you wanted nothing more than to be split open on his cock, at his mercy. your mother would be so ashamed if she ever finds out one of her most disliked friends is the prime source of your infatuation.

you think about his lips on yours, your breasts, his fingers inside you, on your clit— you whined, “this so wrong, but fuck me,”

AND KARL HEISENBERG COULDN’T AGREE MORE.

admiring you from afar, he couldn’t help but feel a twitch of arousal in his pants. he is no damn saint, but he knew it was wrong of him to enter your room without permission. not his fault, your moans sounded like cries, so you worried him, he just wanted to make sure you’re okay. and his reason for staying to watch the show? well, like i said, he’s no goddamn saint. he just wants to make sure you’re really okay.

“so this is what you keep hopping off to do, little bunny.” his thunderous voice roared in the quiet of your room, the transatlantic accent deeper once laced with lust and mischief.

you jolted upright, “L-Lord Heisenberg!” you clutched the duvet to your chest, failing to cover a breast, still, and his eyes were quick to catch your mistake.

“please, call me Karl.”

“you seemed to have no problem in moaning it.”

you froze, clenching involuntarily around the the length of your penetrating toy.

“i—”

“shh, it’s okay.” your stammering was interrupted by a single step taken by Karl closer to you.

“i don’t mind, bunny.” he cooed, softly.

he took this moment to admire you.

you looked like a deer caught in headlights. your doe eyes, furrowed brows, plump, parted lips, the subtle perspiration settled on your collarbone, the duvet clinging to your cleavage and your pebble-like nipples peaking through it.

“i’m just mad you had to hide the show from me.” by the time those words leave his mouth, he’s on the foot of your bed. “thought Mama Dimitrescu would’ve taught you better, sweet girl.” he ‘tsk’ed.

“A GOOD HOST ISN’T SELFISH, HM?”

“A GOOD HOST LETS THE GUEST JOIN IN ON THE FUN,” he says; nods convincingly. a gentle hand inching towards your blanketed body, ready to peel the duvet off and expose you in all vulnerability.

he eyes you for a moment, face searching for any sign of hesitation or discomfort, but was pleased to see you rip all coverings off yourself on your own, grabbing Karl by the hand and pulling him towards you.

his face was so close to yours, you felt heat emitting from your body onto his.

“now, little bunny, are you sure yo—”

you cut him off by placing a kiss of fervency on his lips, giving Heisenberg the answer to questions he was yet to ask.

he let you enjoy the lead for a brief moment more, before taking control. laying you down, Karl was quick to climb on top of you, his hands not wasting a minute to feel your body beneath him.

“i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want this, too, little bunny.” you gasped at the confession, Karl using your parted lips as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

you were kissing your mother’s friend, holy fuck.

“tell me, baby,” he pulled away, eliciting a whine from you. he now laid besides you, relishing the warmth of your bare body.

“‘you ever put a real cock in there?” his hand grabbed a hold of the toy, easing in the tip into your slick folds.

your mind went blank, grinding your hips slowly into the sudden intrusion. “when i ask you a question, little girl, you answer it.” Heisenberg’s voice deepened in dominance. “n-no, sir.” you shook your head.

Karl groaned in arousal.

the thought of stripping away your innocence was so intoxicating.

“of course not. that brute dame knows better than to let you out of this shithole.” he scoffs, evidently insulting your mother, for reasons he named himself, “the minute you ought to step out, men would be pouncing on you like rabid dogs.”

he didn’t stop pumping the toy inside you, agonisingly slow, leaving you whining and begging for more.

“you want more, huh, bun?” he spoke so gently. you nodded, unable to form words because of the aching sensation between your legs.

“okay, i’ll give you more.” he lifted you up like you weighed a feather, placing you between his legs. his own were positioned between yours, so all it took for him to have you spread out was just a nudge of his knees.

“there we go, now spread that pretty pussy for me.” he rested his head on your shoulder, watching eagerly while you hesitated a little to comply.

he put his hands on yours,

and they fit like pieces of an intricate puzzle.

enveloping your smaller ones completely, his hands guided yours to spread your pussy open. the cold air of your room hit your leaking slit, causing you to shudder in his arms.

“look at you glistening, baby.”

“my god,” he groaned, rubbing your hand (and his atop) into your slick.

you sighed into the feeling of your soft hands, mixed with his large, rough ones.

“show me how you please that little pussy.” he whispered in your ear, kissing your lobe.

you nodded, biting your lower lip at his vulgarity.

a lord, yet so crude.

you began toying with your clit, rubbing figure-eights on the swollen bud. Karl’s hands wasted no time in fondling your breasts— groping, squeezing, twisting your nipples, tugging at them— only adding more pleasure to the sensation.

“ease one in.”

you weren’t sure what he mumbled until he decided to take matters into his own hands (literally) and rubbed a finger against your slit.

you swore you forgot how to breath when the sharp sensation of the digit penetration was felt.

“Karl…” you moaned, relishing in the feel of being stretched open.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?” he asked, velvety voice dripping honey on you.

simply answered, “you.”

he kissed your neck, “i know, bunny. but what in specific?”

“uh~”

“tell me.” he grunted, pushing another finger inside.

“y-your hands… i think about your fingers… inside me.”

you mewed hearing him groan in your ear, the subtle nuzzle of his head into your neck urged you to continue. “‘want nothing more than your cock pounding me— wanna be at your mercy, Karl!”

“fuck, baby,” Karl groaned at your vulgarity; even you were surprised at the profanities leaving your lips but the lust hazed cloud in your mind burst with rains of arousal.

“i’ll give what you want for being such a good girl.” he purred in your ear, discarding the drenched toy. your whine at the loss of contact turned into a gasp when he so carelessly threw away your toy to the corner of the room.

you looked up at him through your lashes, feigning faux offense at the abandonment of your favourite companion on a lonely night. “don’t worry,” assured Karl, grinning.

“you won’t be needin’ that no more.” he grinned, plunging two of his thick digits right into your core.

you were stretched like a spring at the hands of this rugged noble. he nuzzled his head into your collarbones, the rugged stubble adorning his handsome face prickling your soft flesh.

Karl bit, licked, sucked, and nibbled, while you writhed, moaned, shivered, and cried in ecstasy.

“such a naughty girl— ‘acting so noble and sophisticated all the time, but when Mama’s friend comes in sight, you start cussing like a sailor with the libido of a pervy sleazeball.” he chuckled at his own descriptions of you, while you hadn’t registered a word he said, simply clenching and unclenching around his experienced fingers, moaning his name with every haggard breath.

“c-close!” you hiccuped, tears staining your rosy face.

“god, you’re so beautiful.” Karl groaned, licking the shell of your ear. you shuddered, not knowing if it was at his lewd actions or the mere compliment.

Karl breathed in your scent, your sensual oud suppressed by the sweet fragrance of your arousal.

he pulled out his fingers.

you began crying.

“why…?” you sobbed, “because,” he explained.

“you’ve not been a very good host, baby girl— leaving your guest waiting like that. only fair you don’t get release this soon, hm?”

he cooed his justification and you weeped like you had committed the most heinous crime.

your hole fluttered around the damp, chill air of your room. gaping around the new nothingness that replaced the stuffed fulfilling treatment you were receiving prior.

“please, i’m sorry— i’m… i’ll do better next time—”

“next time?” Karl was quick to intervene.

“what makes you think there’ll be a ‘next time’?”

your glassy eyes widened, “please, Karl, i’m begging you.”

“hm…” he hunched over your shoulder, chin prodding into your shoulder blade while he looked over at you, nonchalantly. not even an ounce of remorse, amusement, if anything.

“okay. since Mommy taught you manners,”

he rammed his fingers back into your cunt, a look of devilish glee spread across his face.

in and out, in and out, in and curl.

you screamed when he hit that spongy spot inside of you, dead-on. Karl was quick to cover your mouth.

“now, now, we don’t want sweet ol’ Pasha hearing us, do we?” he slowed, referring to the chamberlain that’s often posted right outside your door. you shook your head, urging him to go faster like he was.

“good fucking girl,” he groaned, feeling you pulsate around his wrinkled fingers.

“give me a show, host. make it worth the hours you kept me waiting. ‘dry and hangin’.” he nudged your legs wider, further apart with his knees. the hand that covered your pretty lips now wrapped itself around your own hand.

a sweet moment that lasted mere seconds, he took your interlaced fingers and placed them on your clit, shaking your hand fervently.

your brows furrowed, vision blurred as you peaked. afraid you can’t let go, but he’ll make you.

he’ll make you lose control, just like he’s made you his.

with one last push, or shove of his fingers, he quickly pulled them out, and broke the dam of pleasure.

your slick gushed out of your drooling cunt, drenching everything, including the two of you, nearby.

Karl chuckled, triumphantly. still rubbing fervently at your overstimulated clit, urging more of your juices to squirt out.

“now, that’s a show, darling.” he chuckled, grabbing your flushed face by the chin and connecting your lips to a passionate, chaste kiss.

when you closed your legs, he slapped your thigh, causing you to wince and jerk them open.

“—the hell are you doing?” he asked, seemingly offeneded.

“are you kicking me out?” he raised a brow, a sarcastic smile threatening to break on his face.

“b-but i thought we were—”

“done? oh, no, baby. you left me alone in that dining room thrice this evening.”

“this was just the first of three.”

“now, ass up, face down.” he manhandled you in the blink of an eye.

“your guest’s gotta entertain himself.”

he chuckled, and you nearly choked when you felt something mean, and thick prodding at your abused folds.”

you were in for a long night with your guest.

pt. II. main masterlist. blog directory. COCKUETTE MASTERLIST.

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

french press

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wc: 1.2k reader: femme/gender neutral (gender warnings: reader is wearing lingerie, reader "pushes t*ts together" -- you've been warned) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some funny stuff summary: jiwoong has a biiit of a jealousy problem. he's so jealous rn that he won't even touch you :( with his permission, you take matters into your own hands (and onto his thigh). *ੈ✩‧₊˚ oh helloooo. long time no see. decided to write something for the hell of it. maybe i'll write some more soon...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

~

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, thigh-riding, penetrative sex (reader receiving), descriptions of cum (reader's and jw's), unprotected sex, cumming inside, jealousy/toxicity, swearing, pet names (baby, angel)

also the title is VERY clever. french press: french masseusse pierre and... mating press. i'll leave now.

~

“baby,” you whine, pushing your arms together a bit to accentuate your tits. “don’t you wanna touch? you love touching my tits.”

the sheer, black lingerie set you were saving for a special occasion is hugging every curve of your body perfectly as you straddle your boyfriend. a garter belt squeezing around your right thigh, you know you’re irresistible to anyone with a pulse.

but apparently your boyfriend has passed away since he sat down on the couch with a huff twenty minutes ago. he’s still warm though and that’s permission enough for you to let him have it.

“oh my god,” you groan; smacking your hand on the leather armrest like a frustrated child. “woongie! want you to touch me so bad.”

“well, you should’ve thought of that before you let another man put his hands all over you,” jiwoong answers-- head turning to the side in the ultimate display of pettiness. 

you sigh exasperatedly. “it was a massage, woongie. a professional one that you paid for!”

“so?” he asks with a pout. “are you suggesting i’m a cuckold by my own doing?”

“you are the only one suggesting that actually,” you reply, running your hands down his clothed chest. “the only thing i’m suggesting is that you fuck me. and i’m strongly suggesting it.”

“oh yeah?” jiwoong responds, one eyebrow raised in interest. “are you sure those words aren’t actually meant for pierre: the unnecessarily handsome french masseuse?”

“you literally gave me a gift certificate for my birthday!” you exclaim, hitting his chest lightly in frustration. “baby, i tried to request an ugly massage therapist. the woman at the desk looked at me like i was being rude. and i was! for you.”

jiwoong’s eyes go straight to your barely-covered core and you think for a second he’s finally about to give in. “you asked for an ugly masseuse and she gave you a former louis vuitton runway model? i should’ve just given you tickets to magic mike live!”

“kim jiwoong-ah, if you don’t fck me right now, i swear to god,” you threaten emptily, sinking down on one of his grey sweatpant-adorned thighs. “i’m just gonna use you however i want.”

jiwoong folds his arms across his chest in a final act of defiance, attention returning to the tv screen. “knock yourself out.”

it takes everything in you not to whine like a little spoiled brat, but you manage to suppress it. instead, you grind a little harder down onto jiwoong’s thigh. his legs are lazily spread apart in the most enticing way. you could reach right down his pants and grab him in your hands (a tried and true method that jiwoong loves), but you have something to prove too.

so you repeat the grinding motion, your heat connecting again with the toned flesh of your boyfriend’s perfect thighs. at first it’s just for show-- you need his attention and you’ll do anything you have to to get it back.

but after a few moments, a soft moan escapes your throat. jiwoong’s breath audibly hitches; his body stiffening a bit at the sound of your pleasure. despite this, his eyes stay fixed on the screen.

as a familiar knot grows just below your stomach, you almost start to forget about your goal. maybe it’s desperation speaking, but riding your boyfriend’s thigh is actually a lot more stimulating than you thought it’d be. 

“fuck,” you whine, increasing your pace involuntarily. your hands are gripping the back of the couch, eyes closing as you rapidly approach your high.

suddenly, jiwoong’s thigh grows harder-- a sturdier surface for you to grind on. he’s flexing his muscles for you, helping you reach your climax like the perfect boyfriend he is.

“gonna cum all over my thigh, baby?” jiwoong asks, voice already noticeably fucked out. it’s not a mystery who won this game. “gonna make a mess all over my pants like a fucking angel?”

“i--... oh my god, i--...” you cry, strong hands finding your hips and guiding them down for you onto his thigh. you place your hand gently at the base of jiwoong’s neck, pulling at the collar of his shirt and toying with his collarbone. “i--... ‘m cumming...”

pleasure taking over, you reach your high as jiwoong continues to guide your hips for you. “woongie, love you. love you so much.”

your eyes flutter open to see jiwoong’s cheeks flushed, his eyes locked on your core. you look down to find that you have made a pretty little mess, honey dripping from you and soaking his grey sweatpants. he lifts you ever so slightly up and back down, watching as your juices seep through your sheer panties and onto him.

jiwoong meets your gaze for less than a second before you’re wrestled off the couch and onto your back on the carpeted floor below. carpet aside, it’s not a painless fall and as your boyfriend is hungrily ripping his pants off and burying his cock inside you, you decide it’s a good time to start playing again.

“oh my god, woongie,” you complain, knowing that your back’s gonna hurt even worse in the morning. “are you trying to make me need another massage?”

“no. more. massages,” jiwoong growls, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. “unless i’m the one giving them.”

“fuck,” you whine, pulling him even deeper inside you as you wrap your legs around him. trapping him. holding him hostage exactly where his possessive ass wants to be. “surely you don’t think you’re as skilled as a professional masseuse?”

“i’ll get certified,” he manages to grunt, grabbing hold of your thighs and pushing them up to your chest in a mating press. “or would you prefer pierre’s cock inside you instead?”

“that’s not fair,” you reply, absolutely relishing in your reinstated role of bratty sub. “how can i choose if i’ve never seen both options?”

“you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” jiwoong asks, kneading your thighs mercilessly-- striking his palm across the side with a gorgeous smack. “you’re gonna kill me so you can fuck pierre and then kill him too.”

“i’ll let you live a little longer if you cum inside me,” you promise, running your hand through his hair as he stares at you helplessly. “please, woongie. need you to fill me up.”

you can see it in his eyes: he’ll give you anything you want. he’d even let you fuck pierre if you really wanted to. but you don’t. not even a little bit. you just want jiwoong.

“fuck, i love you so much, baby,” he pants as his thrusts grow shallower and more sporadic. “gonna fill up this perfect... little...”

his hips finally spasm; a sweet moan swallowed down as you feel him spill into you. you sigh contentedly at the warmth inside of you, your boyfriend laying his head on your chest-- letting go of your legs from where he’d been pinning them and collapsing on top of you in exhaustion.

you wrap your thighs around jiwoong’s waist, making sure he can’t escape (he doesn’t want to).

jiwoong’s jealousy issues weren’t really harmful. he knew you’d never actually leave him for another man; what he always seemed to forget is that you’d never even dream of it. and besides, whatever misunderstanding arose always ended in fiery, passionate sex like this. 

so could anyone really blame you for making up sexy french massage therapists just to make your boyfriend jealous from time to time? not to worry... you’ll give jiwoong a couple months to recover from pierre before you drop your next fabrication on him: dante, the sensual italian chef.

[issdisgrace]

Look what can be requested and I am so excited! It can be one of Ghost being married and after a long time finally 141 meets her husband who is someone so nice, kind and cute to everyone, attractive and a bar owner, he could meet 141 when they go to a nice restobar and boom! they see Ghost's handsome husband.

THE BAR​

WARNINGS: Nothing really other than Ghost threatening Soap​

A/N: I’m gonna to make a part 2 of this later on fyi​

We got back to base the other day and tonight Price decided to take us out for drinks, said he knew a great place nearby. Needing a drink, I decide to go on with this little adventure and in the end we ended up at a bar that is all too familiar to me. It was my husband Y/n’s bar, the one that he took so much pride and joy in. The sight of it made me feel warm inside knowing that he would be in there tending bar like normal. But it also made me worried the guys didn’t know about Y/n. I made sure of that, but now there was no way to get out of this situation. They were going to find out tonight.

Entering the bar, there were few people scattered about, typical for a Tuesday night. Y/n like I expected was behind the bar tending to the people that were sitting at it. His motions were elegant and fluid, making him look angelic. Angelic, angelic was a good word for him. He looked like he was ripped from a fashion magazine and realistically Y/n could have anyone. But he wants me and that makes me feel good like really however I digress.

We made our way to a table towards the back near the restrooms. My back was to the bar as we all sat and figured who was paying for what round. We came to an agreement and settled on Price, Soap, Gaz, and then me. Right before Price could ask us what we wanted I felt arms wrap around my waist and a kiss on my cheek. The look of utter shock written on others’ faces was comical. Already knowing who it was I leaned back into his chest welcoming his familiar warmth.

“Want your normal darling.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll get that for you right away and the drinks are on the house for your friends.”

“Thank you, love.”

“No problem.” He says before giving me another kiss on the cheek before leaving. Looking back at the guys, they are still in shock. It’s like that for a minute or two before Soap says,

“What the fuck just happened? Who the fuck was that?”

“He’s my husband Y/n.”

“HUSBAND?” They all questioned.

“Yes, husband. We’ve been married for 4 years so far, but we’ve been together for 8 years.”

“9 years coming up in 1 month, 3 weeks, and 5 days.” Y/n says, coming up behind me, setting my drink down in front of me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. I smile at that. He has always kept track of any anniversaries or birthdays. I suspect he keeps track to the hours, minutes, and seconds, but I’ve never asked.

“Oh right, how rude of me I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/n, I’m Simon’s husband and you guys must be Price, Soap, and Gaz. It’s nice to meet you guys. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The Lt. talks about us?”

“Yes, He’s told me quite a lot.”

“Aww, that’s sweet Lt. You do love us.”

“Fuck off Johnny.”

“You love me Lt.”

“No I don’t. I only love Y/n.”

“That’s cute.” Gaz says.

“Sickly cute.” Soap adds.

“Leave Simon alone you two. He’ll give you hell tomorrow.”

“Alright Captain.” The two say in unison. Prices are right. If they keep it up, I’ll make tomorrow's training a living hell for them. Before I voice my agreement to Price Y/n chimes in,

“As much of a pleasure it is to meet all you guys I still unfortunately have a bar to run. So what will you guys be drinking tonight?” They team orders and Y/n gives me a quick kiss before heading back to the bar to make their drinks.

“So Lt. How did you manage to bag such a hotty?”

With all seriousness I say, “If you so much as look at him in any way other than in a friend type of way I will gouge your eyes out and feed them to you.”

I see horror flash in his eyes before he says,

“Alright, alright Lt. No need to get violent. I’ll behave scouts honor.” He holds up the boy scout hand sign.

“You’ve never been a boy scout Soap. I don’t think they would’ve even let you be one.” Gaz says.

“Rude, I would be a great boy scout. “

Price lets out a chuckle at the two, shaking his head. I join him and just shake my head. I can tell this is going to be long night.

[camywamycam]

what was left behind in the rubble P.2

1,150 words

soon to be harry x reader 

summary: you moved in with your father Sirius Black from California two months ago and he completely ignores you when Harry arrives for your birthday your adoptive father visits you and hell breaks loose.

Sirius Black had many questions, as did everyone else. Harry had been talking with Sirius about something, but at this point, he couldn't remember because of how often the subject would change. that's when he heard a knock on the door and the hushed voice of Remus who was practically interrogating him. "who are you? how did you find this place" Remus said harshly. As the man was about to answer both men heard a loud gasp coming from the hallway. Harry and Sirius both watched as y/n practically jumped off the staircase into the grasp of the strange man. "I can't believe you're here!" "Of course I'm here it's not like I would've missed your birthday," Joel said in a sarcastic voice. Joel was a large man. standing 6'5 (taller than Sirius by 8 inches) and he had a scowl embedded permanently on his stubble-covered face. he was quite intimidating to put it shortly, although Harry could tell that wouldn't stop Sirius and his stupidity from picking a fight with the man. Joel smiled as he put down the strange object he was holding and spun y/n around. Harry looked at Sirius with wide eyes as Sirius stood up and walked cockily toward the much bigger man.

I'm sorry, and you are? Sirius said in a rude tone as Remus just stood back in shock. he and Molly had been trying to get you to open up to them for months. you never smiled or left your room. they would invite you to partake in activities with them but you would always refuse and opt to stay in your room with your muggle cassette tapes and guitar. seeing you switch up your demeanor and so easily jump into the arms of this random man made him reflect upon himself. maybe he should've tried harder. maybe he should try to bond with you over your interests. he felt as if he failed to be your godfather. Sirius despite having ignored you during all the time you had been staying in his house had a random rush of a fatherly authority. who was this strange man holding his daughter? Who the hell did he think he is? instead of wondering why you didn't act that way with him, he chose to ignore how happy you were with him and focus on getting this guy out of his house. "oh um Im Joel, her muggle guardian, that's what they call us right y/n? muggle?" "yeah Dad" Sirius felt his heart drop. all of a sudden his reality dawned on him. you never called him that. he never gave you the father-daughter relationship he was supposed to give you, instead he pushed you away just as he did your mother before she passed. though, he was much too prideful to let his self-reflection show in the presence of all these people. he was much too prideful to admit he had fucked up, it was a talent he carried throughout his life. his blissful ignorance. "I'm sorry but this home is being used by the order, you can't be here," he said in an attempt to get him to leave. Harry just watched as the other nosey children of the home started filling in the room silently as if they could smell conflict. Joel having picked up on the negative vibes Sirius sent his way instantly began returning the same hostility. "actually I was just about to leave" Joel said giving Sirius a fake smile "I just wanted to drop off y/ns gift before I take her out for the day" Sirius ignored the new information. he didn't know it was your birthday, he never bothered to ask. "what makes you think you can take out my daughter?" he said making a point to exaggerate the "my" "I'm not your daughter and I never will be" y/n said in a closed off tone. who the hell did he think he is? For the past month, he acted as if you didn't exist while he treated that Potter kid as if he was god himself. Joel noticed you're now closed-off manner and your fidgeting hands as he reached out to put his arm around you to calm you down. Sirius being the ignorant dumb child man he is ignored how uncomfortable you were and instead of backing down he chose to provoke Joel into arguing with her "I'm not letting some junkie take my daughter" "Oh please look at yourself you reek of cigarettes"

before Sirius could get the crap beaten out of him Remus stepped in and made him step down as you and Joel left. Remus had always wanted a family but he ignored the small one in front of him. having seen your beautiful platonic relationship with Joel Remus was now determined to make you feel more included even if he had to drag you out of your room. he was jealous and disappointed in himself.

you didn't come back for a long while. you showed Joel around the area that you were now somewhat knowledgeable about although you pretended as if you were an expert to make him impressed. Joel took you shopping in the muggle side of town, somewhere you haven't been allowed to go to. he even took you to the movies! Joel felt bad for the scene that Sirius he had caused. when you walked into the dining room the tension thickened. the children in the room looked between the adults anticipating drama. "so, how was your day with your drug dealer?" "Sirius that's eno-" "What the fuck is your problem? You never cared about me until now, stop trying to act like your my dad because you never will be!" the table went silent. "I am your father, you are my blood!" Sirius squared like a segal on drugs as Molly ushered the children up the stairs. all left but Harry since he was so entitled to push himself into your problems. "Sirius does everything for you and you treat him like shit!" Harry said ignorantly. "oh I'm treating him like shit? I've talked to him twice in the 4 months I've been here!" you retreated up to your room pushing the other teens who were eavesdropping from the staircase. you flopped on your bed as you curled up into a ball and cried.

Remus felt terrible. even if he had treated you kindly he still sat back and allowed you to be treated as if you were nothing. he should've intervened earlier but now all he can do is hope you are willing to forgive him.

Remus knocked on the door "May I come in?" Remus said wearily "Yeah sure..." Remus walked into the room that was dimly lit by your muggle "led" lights. he didn't speak. he engaged you in his warm hugs and held you as you cried. "shh it's okay, let it out."

tag list 

@moonys0chocolate @venomsvl   @quackitysdrugdealer

[cherry1sblog]

PART 2

PAIRING: Lee heeseung × fem!reader . a

GENRES:smut, fluff, bullying, alcohol,party,unprotect ed sex (rember to wrap your Willy so the out come won't be silly

WARNINGS there is bullying in this heeseung is basically a dick to y/n and nothing in this story is real!!! This is fan fiction and the way I write about heeseung is not the way I portray him as he's a person himself this is simply for entertainment only !!

SUMMARY:heeseung had always bullied you through your 3 years of Highschool but never let anyone touch you other then him and if he found out someone did that was the end of it you were basically marked as his toy that's until the summer of your junior year you had enough you were done with him always making fun of you and you hated the fact that after all he did I to you you still adored him and liked him but it dosent matter cause you wanted to leave your senior year with a banger so you were no longer your nerdy self still smart asf obvi but appearance wise different you got contacts new clothes thank god you guys didn't have a dress code and most importantly you spent all summer learning how to do your makeup..

RECAP….

y/n and sunghoon on the couch asleep "holy shit heeseung hyung is not gonna be happy" jungwon picked you up and ran with you on his back you being confused when jungwon locked his door and threw you on the bed *WHAT TH-

" jungwon covers your mouth muffling your yelling until you stoped "shut the fuck up unless you want to make heeseung hyung and sunghoon hyung hate eachother more right now " honestly you couldn't give a fuck less and if this made heeseung miserable then you had every reason not to care " why should I care on fact I actually don't mind going back ou " jungwon grabed your hand pinning you on the wall wtf is it with everyone pinning you on the wall " look I know heeseung hyung did fucked up shit and I know it's fucked up we didn't do anything but we all grow from our mistakes and plus now your like hot so please just shut the fuck up and well stay in here

————————————————————-

/the next day after all that//

You got home after sometime of being stuck with jungwon you were honestly so feed up with everthing at that point but being stuck with jungwon wasn’t too bad you got to knwo him actually as a person and the way he talked about heeseung made you actually see there is a diffrent side to heeseung getting lost in your thoughts you didn’t know that chu was talking to you “oh sorry chu I just have a lot on my mind rn” she looked at you with a smirk confused you looked at her “I bet you are having a lot on you mind scince you slept with Sunghoon “ afraid someone would hear you covers her mouth “chu first of all we did not sleep together second of all please don’t say that” you wind to her “okay oaky I’m sorry “ she wisperd “ but if you guys didn’t fuck what did you do “ obviously her not buying it “well I mean we actually just watched a movie “ chu was in disbelief “you telling me you spent that night at his house and didn’t fuck!” “Omg shut up chu “everyone now staring at you and her apologizing “speak of the devil” you turned around confused at chu it was heeseung jake and sunoo sunoo smiled happyily at you giving you a hug sunoo was normally like this even when people were rude to you he made really nice gestures making you at least happy one person back then didn’t totally hate you “hi y/nnieeee” avoiding heeseungs contact a bit embarrassed from What hapoend the last time you guys spoke “didn’t know you had a nickname other than doll y/n “ sunoo smacked his shoulder “cmon now hyung don’t be a dick”sunoo said defending you “what ever “ heeseung said walking away sunoo being left behind “oh btw y/n I was wondering if I could get your help with something “ nodding at him curios to what he could need your help with “I know you and heeseung aren’t best of buds but cause you help me plan his birthday par-“ you stopped him “hell no sunoo” “why not th-“ you get it that sunoos action didn’t mean to hurt you but why would you do anything to help him “please y/nnie “ sunoo made it so hard to say no “your lucky your pretty “ sunoo smiled happily “okay well I’m his party is next week and all of the boys are pitching in and I need your help with decorations “ nodding but you didn’t want heeseung to know you helped cause that would cause problems “sunoo just don’t tell heeseung I’m helping you plan this “ nodding and not questiong you “oh and chu would you mind going with Jake the day of to get drinks “ you could see chus eyes light up in mention of jake “ofc!” Sunoo thanked you guys and had left

//2 days later//

“Okay sunoo so we have all the Ballons ordered and the banners nikis and jungwon and gonna pick up the cakes Sunghoon sunoo getting all the food so we’re set “ being so tired staying up late at night to plan more things for heeseungs party even tho as much as you hated him you still put a lot of time in this for no reason you couldn’t exactly pin point why you were putting so much thought in it being worried he wouldn’t be happy with it…. anyways back to sunoo “yes everything looks perfect !” Being happy everything was set in place for Saturday “wait y/n have you chosen your outfit yet “ omg after picking out everything and setting it all up for heeseungs party you completely forgot to buy and outfit with only 1 day left before the party “oh shit” sunoo being confused “what’s wrong?omg you didn’t chose one out yet did you” you shook your head “okay well you should have some time tommorw right I can go shopping with you” you thanked that sunoo even reminded you or it would have been so bad “your a life savor sunoo ilysm “

//The next day//

Sunoo arrived at the mall but not alone he came with sunghoon you hadn’t talk scince that day so you too were a bit awkward sunghoon just standing there as sunoo ran up to hug you “sunghoon hyung are you broken” laughing a bit at what sunoo had said “what no” sunghoon being defensive you ended up greeting him by just waving as he waved back “okay!let’s go shopping “

You guys had gon into a dress store to find a dress for the party you wanted somthing simple not to much it still being a little awkward beetween you and sunghoon but you guys lightens the mood by just saying some jokes sunoo had handed you a dress scince you weren’t liking any that you chose and sunoo really had an eye for clothes showing them the white dress sunoo had chosen for you his and sunghoon mouth hanging open “y/n I think you broke sunghoon” you both started laughing as sunghoon was a bit embarrassed but you knew that this was the dress you were gonna chose

//DAY OF PARTTYYYYY//

After you and sunoo had spent all night and the morning of the party decorating at jakes house you finally had to go home and change tha fully the party was supposed to be a Suprise so you didn’t have to worry about heeseung seeing you…”hey y/n “ nudging you head at chu “what up “ she seemed like she was being held back by the question “e-even tho heeseung bullied you and none of his freinds did anything to stop him why are you still nice to them “ you yourself didn’t fully understand but as much as you say you hated heeseung you really well didn’t how could you hate him from the moment you saw him in middle school till now you could never get over his Bambi like eyes and you’ll never forget the first encounter you had with him either heeseung was super nice the first time you had met him he had accidently number into you the first day of 6th grade helping you pick up everything and apologizing but reassuring him that it was okay every year from that money on you guys always had the same class but 6th grade heeseung was much diffrent then heeseung now “I’m not really sure chu but I know that I don’t hate them and I can’t really blame the boys either at times they would tell heeseung he was doing to much or that it was enough and I thanked them for that it was never there fault “ nodding chus head understating you now and feeling simpathy for you “but chu that’s not important right now cause we’re gonna go party!”

//at the party //

Beomgyu had driven all of you to the party you walked in thrue the door and you were so proud of the decorations and that everyone loved them “holy shit y/n “ beomgyu said “I need you to be my party planner cause damn “ giggling you made your way to find the rest of the boys leaving you freind for a bit instead you ran into heeseung you rolled your eyes as he starred at you “cmon doll you can’t be rude to the birthday boy “ he walked closer to you “what ever happy birthday tho ig “ he just nodded surprised you said happy birthday to him at all jake and sunoo seeing you and going up to you and heeseung “y/nnieee!!” You hugged sunoo and Jake “do want a drink y/n? Chu got a pack of beer that you like” you nodded pushing thrue the crowed to go get a drink getting déjà vu as you saw sunghoon agian in the same place as last time “oh hey y/n” Sunghoon seeming a bit tipsy already “hey hoon are you drunk?” He shook his head “no not drunk but what ever you do do not drink jays punch” “noted” you said as you guys laughed he passed you a beer as “are you enjoying the party so far” he asked you saying it to you ear as the music was too loud nodding to him “do you wanna go dance?” You asked him being a flustered but agreeing as you two were dancing you had made eye contact with heeseung but he didn’t look away you were in a trans you didn’t even realize sunghoon was talking to you till you felt him pat hour back “hey are you okay?” He asked a bit concerned “yeah I’m good “you said as you look back to heeseungs spot as he smirked and left with a girl sunghoon noticed and looked in the same direction “don’t worry about heeseung “ he told you “I’m not dont worry” you saw him smile as you to continued dancing

//later in the party//

You saw heeseung with a girl making out you were staring so hard you were sure they’d be able to feel u you “yo y/n “Jake was talking to you now “you seem a bit to munch into heeseung making out with other girls “slaping jake for making that remark as he laughed “shut up Jake “ you rolled your eyes beomgyu laughing at his joke “ you two are so immature “ soobin added “I can’t belive you choosing sides “ “Jake hee not choosing sides he just has a brain” now you were laughing but still going back to heeseung every now n then but this time was different heeseung made eye contact with you and you had gotten flustered going outside on the balcony for some fresh air you were two into you thoughts you didn’t know heeseung standing behind you “you know y/n if you wanted to keep watching you should have tooken a picture “ being scared as he talked in you ear grabbing you wait being flustered at his comment and his gestures “what’s wrong doll you always have so much to say “ you turned around just to be caged into him “heeseung go away “ he tilted his head “why you don’t like this “ he came close to you neck sucking on your skin moving your neck to let him have more access but you knew it was wrong “no I’m not gonna be one of your quick fuckes “ you said as you pushed him back you could tell he was a bit drunk “why cause I’m not sunghoon? Are you now to good for anyone” you were a bit confused on why that even mattered “yk what heeseung you seem a bit drunk so I’m just gonna g-“ he grabed your arm and tugged you back the drink he had placed before down before he had it in his other hand but it got on your dress he himself was a bit upset he had gotten it on you dress and by now you were furios “why do you hate me so much! What have I ever done to you for you to hate me you can’t just fuck with my feelings heeseung” he was taken aback by your question “yk heeseung Even after all the times you hurt me I never hated you but you always hated me and still do I don’t know what I did but I don’t think I even deserve this “ tears coming in your eyes now he could see them even tho it was dark he get bad now “y/n I-“ “no heeseung save it I’m done with you bull shit have a nice night happy fucking birthday lee” and with that you stumbled and ran out the door realizing soobin was the one who had driven you so you had to walk home now.

//back in the party //

Part three will be out quickly I just couldn’t write on this page anymore for some reason tha my oh for waiting !!

[astralspen]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYAAAAAAA

OK SO I HAVE A FIC FOR HIS B-DAY BUT I PROBABLY WONT BE ABLE TO GET IT FINISHED AND POSTED TO AO3 UNTIL LIKE TOMMOROW OR WEDNESDAY SO ILL GIVE EVERYONE A LIL SNIPPET FOR OUR BIRTHDAY BOY

Now, normally, Dazai was never into celebrating. But today, oh today was different. Today, it was Chibi's birthday. Dazai had decided to skip work for the perfect chance at getting under the slugs skin today. He could deal with Kunikidas complaints on missing work pretty much all of last week tomorrow. He went into a brightly colored and well lit shop, and as swiftly as he came in, he was gone with a white plastic bag now in tow. He looked particularly cheery walking on the sidewalk, and he enjoyed his peaceful little stroll all the way to Chuuyas house. The closer he got, the more excited he became. He couldn't wait to see the slugs face when he barged into the orange haired man's apartment, and especially the face said man would make at the wonderful gift he was going to get.

Dazai had gotten to the door and then entered the pin to get in. Silly Chibi, never changing the lock code after all these years. He busted through the door, though he didn't break it this time. He would be a little courteous today, considering the date and all. Though, when Dazai didn't hear an angry slug yelling, or even him running over to the door to see what the noise was, he became a little confused. Was Chuuya really not off today? He thought that Koyou had convinced him to take the day off. Maybe it didn't work? But if that was the case, then why were the extra locks on the door not turned on?

“Chibi~ Where are you~ it's rude to hide from your owner you know!”

…

No reaction? Did something happen? Dazai finally actually stepped into the apartment, and carefully closed the door behind him. Then, cautiously, he looked around the apartment for any signs of the little slug. When he glanced over the couch, he saw Chuuya, but something was off.

Sure, he was in his hilariously adorable pajamas, and even wore the pants Dazai gave to him forever ago as a prank gift. The old joke mug was on the table too, but neither of those were really unusual. After all, Dazai had done this on Chuuyas off days before, and this part was actually relatively normal. He had teased Chuuya a lot about using old gifts from Dazai a lot. Nearly every time he visited, in fact. But no matter what, Chuuya still continued to use them religiously. Even on days Dazai stayed over, he would see Chuuya drinking out of the World's Best Dog mug calmly in the morning, see how he changed into those stupid sheep pants every night. No, what was weird was that Chuuya seemed out of it.

He was staring at an old picture in a worn wooden frame, and it was like Chuuya had lost all awareness of the world around him.

Now, that wouldn't do. How was Dazai supposed to sufficiently annoy the Chibi when he was like this? So he walked up right behind Chuuya, making sure to be silent so Chuuya wouldn't notice him and hide the picture. When he saw it, everything clicked. What did Dazai do in response?

He flung his arms around Chuuya from behind of course!

“Chibiiiiii! You can't neglect your owner like this! What's the point of visiting if my dear little dog won't even pay attention to me?”

Dazai had said it in his most sing-song and pouty voice possible. Chuuya had finally snapped out of it. And swung his head back to look at Dazai.

“huh!? What the hell, Mackerel!? The fuck are you doing at my place!”

“Your hat must have finally eaten your brain if you hadn't realized what day it is! Why wouldn't I visit my dear dog on such a special day~”

“stop calling me your fucking dog! Of course I didn't forget what day it is! I just thought you had the sense to remember that I don't fucking celebrate it. Did the agency finally make you lose all your damn sense?”

“Chibis so mean! I even bothered to get you a present, and you still bully me!”

There, Chuuya had finally put the picture down on the table.

“I swear to fucking God if you got me a replacement for that dumbass slug shirt I'm throwing you out the damn window.”

“Rude! I would never reuse the same joke!”

“Yes the fuck you would!”

“Hmph! Well, either way, I got you something even better!”

This was my first time grabbing a writing snippet so sorry if it starts and ends weirdly TAT Hope you like it though and of course Happy Birthday to our little mafioso!

[crownmemes]

Saltburn Sentences

(Sentences from Saltburn (2023). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I wasn't in love with him. I know everyone thought I was, but I wasn't."

"I loved him, of course. It was impossible not to love him. That was part of the problem."

"I loved him, but was I 'in love' with him?"

"So, how are you finding Oxford?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know your name?"

"There aren't any pictures of me as a kid."

"You're such a snob!"

"Do you think he'll be jealous?"

"'Home' doesn't mean the same for me as it does for you."

"Why don't you come home with me?"

"Stop being so frightening in front of my friends!"

"Oh, he's alright. He's just... Odd."

"I have a complete and utter horror of ugliness."

"Nothing shocks me. Absolutely nothing."

"I'm sorry my mum asked so many rude questions. Don't take it personally."

"I hope you don't mind, but I had them hang out an old school dinner jacket for you. We dress for dinner here, so I didn't want you to be caught short."

"I'm really happy that you're here. I'm sorry that everything is so old-fashioned."

"Fucking hell, you gave me a fright!"

"We're all cold-blooded. Hadn't you noticed?"

"I was a lesbian for a while, you know, but it was all just too wet for me in the end."

"You stupid little boy!"

"Oh, I was going to say, we should do something for your birthday! A proper party!"

"Oh! How about a fancy dress party? I can wear my suit of armour!"

"Is everything okay? You seem annoyed about something."

"Are you going to behave from now on?"

"God, I wish we didn't have to go to London!"

"I just wanted to be your friend."

"You really do notice everything, don't you?"

"I don't know what you are, but I do know you. You make my blood run cold."

"You don't need to be told, do you? You already know."

"You're not the only person here with feelings."

"I won't mention this to the police. That's all you'll get."

"Your politeness is so grating."

"How long are you planning on staying with us?"

"I can honestly say that these last few months have been the happiest of my life."

"Is there really ever such a thing as an accident?"

[lokisivy]

Gorgeous- Eddie Munson

(part 1)

warning: semi-dark Eddie, Henderson reader.

burnt my fingers 2 times today now I'm writing with one hand. also, my cat is drinking from the cold water I made for my fingers

pov changes throughout the chapter

Senior year, my year, The Hendersons have a thing for blooming late. I already had a nice body, but I didn't expect it. My summer was basically gaining weight on my tits and ass not that I was complaining. I had the perfect body for my 18th birthday, but senior year will be the year everyone knows who I am.

"Are you nervous?" I asked Dustin. When I told him about hellfire he made me join so I could put in the good word to him and his friends. Eddie was the leader he was also in my English class I was tutoring him because his grades were falling down. It doesn't matter anyway he graduated I haven't talked to him since our last session He kissed me and I freaked out

"Kind of," he said nervously

"You got nothing to worry about you will be fine I'm there no one will dare to touch you."

I enter the doors of the high school with Dustin

"I will go find Mike and Lucas," he informed you giving him a small nodd

Something about this being the last chapter of your childhood made this so hard to process

you went to your locker to put your stuff and head to class.

"Last year huh you think anything freaky will happen," Robin said behind the locker door.

"Upside down freaky or high school freaky?" I giggled "Both." she answered

"Oh hell no, I'm not going through that again you got kidnapped by the Russians ." you started walking to your classes together

"It wasn't that bad"

"Sure" you laughed at her statement.

first classes ran faster than I expected as I headed to the cafeteria so Dustin wouldn't do the wrong thing to the wrong someone.

Until I bump into someone

"I'm sorry I didn't see you," I said before looking up. you recognised that cologne. "Eddie? aren't you supposed to be graduated?" my smile was bright it was like the sun had come after a rainy day.

I had a huge crush on Eddie. my heart just flutters or skips a beat when he is around. Since the last I saw him I didn't react well when he kissed me he took me by surprise he probably thinks i don't like him. Fuck me.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm asking myself the same question," he said, giving me that bright smile of his

"Come on, let's go to the cafeteria." he said, putting his arms around my shoulders.

Why is acting like nothing had happened last spring?

we sat at our table Eddie in front me on the side like the rest sat next or opposite.

"So Eddie I've been meaning to ask you, can my brother and his friends join hellfire they are pros at DnD." I said nervously

The group looked at you like you were about to get murdered you were confused, as Eddie was never rude or mean to you he did obtain a reputation for being a 'freak' but its not like like the guy was heartless

"Sure, bring them over," Eddie said, giving you a smile

You called Dustin and his friends to come over.

"Eddie, I'm Dustin' Y/Ns brother. It's a pleasure." Dustin said, pulling out his hands to shake Eddies, but eddie doesn't give his hands out.

"Sit down!" Eddie yelled at him

They all took a seat next to me. I gave Dustin, 'I told you, so look.' i warned him he was a little too much.

...

"So just meet me at the forest after school." I heard Eddie tell Chrissy from a distance. Your blood boiled, what are they doing? Are they going out? why do I care it doesn't matter.

You take your books out of the locker, and when you shut it - "Hey sweetheart." Eddie said, smirking at you. God, he is gorgeous. Can I say it to his face?

"Hi." You said plainly.

"Why are you upset my love cheer up we are graduating this year." he said smiling. my stomach filled with butterflies

My love.

"I am graduating. you I'm not so sure." you left leaving him there

did he do something wrong? Was he coming off strong? not strong enough?

he wanted you to know he liked you he flirts with you all the time but you always seem to be scared or nervous. he was even nice to you about Dustin joining DnD.

while you were walking to class Eddie grabbed your waist and lead you to a closet.

"Have I upset you, sweetheart? Why are you abrupt? " said, pining you against the door arms next to your body knowing you would try to leave.

''You should take it as a compliment,'' you said

He chuckles god he had such a deep voice it made heat rise in my tummy. he doesn't know that fucking ruined me for anyone else I could only think about him if it wasn't for the upside-down shit that happened in the summer I would've sunk down and died. seeing him with Crissy made me jealous and Im so fucking furious at him for making me feel this way.

"You should go. You wouldn't want Chrissy to know you in a closet with me," I said, looking up at him, his face leaning down his arms on the door behind me.

"You are mad because of a drug deal? chicks smoke weed, you should know." his face is coming closer to yours. He is referring to the time he made me try weed for the first time because I was curious how it felt like.

"I know that," you said breathlessly as he leaned further into my ears

"Then what's the problem princess?" He whispered

"You don't know how long I've waited for you to have you burn in jealousy for me like that," he said, his voice deeper than normal, twirling a string of curls on my hair.

huh?

"Eddie..." I said trying to breathe properly

"There is nothing I hate more than I can't have" His lips are so close to mine that I'm almost gonna faint from the air being so thick

"I want to fuck you so hard against this door while everyone outside hears your moans and knows who you belong to" His voice goes lower. He hovers his lips above my neck, "Do you want that princess?

"What -"

"Answer me!" he bangs his hands beside my head making me flinch from the loud noise.

The tension was rising it was like my brain was fogged with his scent his voice. his hand trails down my neck grabbing it enough to cause a moan out of me, "Did I stutter sweetheart?"

I was taken aback I didn't think he actually wanted an answer. "Yes, I want that Eddie" I finally answered.

[pinyeti]

overwhelming day today here's the debrief

I have two humongous final projects both worth half my grade due on Wednesday and im losing my mind AND I HAVE A PAPER DUE TOMORROW MORNING AT 8AM AND I HAV.E AMIDTERM TOMORROW AT 3.30Pn, my groups suck for both projects and THEY JUST

MY GOD

I DONT MIND DOING ALL THW WORK EXCEPT IM GENUINELY SO FUCKIN TIRED OF DOING ALL THE FUCKIN WORK ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND IM SO SICK OF IT AND IM SO FUCKIN SICK OF IT IM SO FUCIN TIRED OF DOING THIS ALL THE FUCKIN TIME

and I just

I have this friend who im kinda close too but she's curt with me sometimes and we are kinda rude to each other as a joke but she just

she's rude to me sometimes on purpose and I dont know why and I just feel like she hates me and won't tell me why and I JUST I do love her and it bothers me ig and Ive had alot of issues with this friend and every time I try to solve anything

yeah

and I am having a huge body image attack which isn't that deep but whatever and my brother wlel

he's got every mental illness on the planet and makes my life a living hell I get being mentally ill makes life difficult for you but YOU CANNOT EXPECT ME TO SEE THEM AS MORE THAN EXPLANATIONS FOR YOUR BEHAVIOUR RATHER THAN A FUCKIN EXCUSE?? IM NOT EXCUSING YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT ME T

pk

okay and then

today was another friends birthday and she was so

we made a whole birthday surprise thing for her and I went to alot of effort to do it and she just I invited her boyfriend and one of her other friend and she sprent the whole time talking to them and making it awkward for everyone else and I

she was like send pictures? and it just bothered me cuz she went out of her way to make it look like she hated them and if thats so then ill just not invite her to things??? cuz wth I do like my friends and this is really fuckin inconsiderate and we had karaoke but there was an issue with the mic and she was just

being really weird about ti and I felt kinda disrespected and she really doesnt fuckin care

and im so sick of this and

its like she just tolerates them for pictures and it was weird and idk

maybe I dont like her as much as I thought and maybe im the problem cuz I really tried to make it special for her and she just

she was just not having it and I tried so hard and I wish I didnt cuz I felt so stupid for caring about mics cuz when she left the rest of us were singing nd it wasn't awkward and clean up was fun even

and the thing with happened with the friend that was curt with me earlier she just we found out a guy we knew was spreading rumors about her sexuality ( his friend group did this to me first) so I asked her about it and she said yea that guy confessed to her and she told him she didnt like him like that but also that her and my other friend fought cuz this guy was being weird and I was BUSY BABYSITITNG MY FUCKIN GROUP AT THE TIME AND WE COULDNT PROPERLY TALK ABOUT IT so I called her when I got home and she got so weird and defensive about it like I was crazy and I just

I hate when she does this and I hate that I care about her more than she cares about me

in fact I know this is toxic as fuck and caring isnt measured on scales

bUT I HAVE THIS PROBLEM

I DO

I CARE TOO FUCKIN MUCH AND I WISH I COULD STOP AND I WISH I COULD EAT MY BRAIN UP CUZ IM SO SICK OF CARING OHMYGOD I WISH I COULD JSUT END MY FUC

OH AND

IM DOING 2 MURALS RIGHT

BUT MY IPAD CRASH LEFT ONE OHUGE FUCKIN MURAL GONE FOREVER

AND I DONT HAVE THE 720CM VERSION OF IT AND I HAVENT TOLD THEM YET AND

AND I HATE MY ART AND

I am president of a club and WE GOT OUR FUCKIN BUDGET REJECTED SO IM OUT A BUNCH OF MONEY FOR NO REASON AND IM SO SICK

I need a break

I need a break

[intoloopin-archive]

gimmie numba 8

CONGRATS! YOU GOT … AIR CASTLE!

Air Castle, also known under the acronym ARCT [spelling], is a fictional south korean girl group debuted in late 2019 under media conglomerate MBN Entertainment Group. LINEUP (07): Perla. Hyunju. Jihye. Lihua. Evelyn. Soryeoung. Domi. HITS INCLUDE: Dalla Dalla (2019). Nonstop (2020). Birthday (2022). After Like (2023). CONCEPT: The endless wonder of the REM Realm. NOTORIOUS MEMBERS: Lihua, Evelyn.

I just can’t for the life of me start talking about NPCs with their own little worlds without starting off with my Castle Girls, because they have SO! MUCH! GOING! ON! As does everyone under the big bad MBN empire, a side of the Gioverse that we’re yet to explore (I had plans to do that with Idolmaker, since they’re always right in the middle of the shitstorm, but oh well… Maybe someday?)

Fully gasping how much of a punishment from Hell is having Night Child as labelmates and seniors might be a little hard, since LOOPiN only ever has to really deal with Dongwook (the crowd boos), Gunil (the crowd cheers) and sometimes Code, but Air Castle can’t escape NTCD as a collective horror – we’re talking daily bullship from creepy Jinsoo, disgusting fucking Cain and asshole Josh! Not to mention their branding of being a matching set with Night Child, which is really hitting them hard now that Dongwook’s public enemy number one and their worldwide reputation is going down the toilet.

They really torment the living shit out of these hardworking women that don’t get an inch of the appreciation they deserve, and the sad thing is: Air Castle can’t for the life of them join forces to try to do something about it because they have extremely clashing personalities, and almost no friendship inside the group that takes root in that, but also happens because of exterior factors that, boy oh boy, go way too deep into MBN Entertainment lore.

My biggest star in the group is undeniably Lihua, who you might have seen name dropped/put on some graphics here and there as ½ of ‘J.J’s Awful Friends’ alongside Jiyeon. I’m OBSESSED with her 'laid back but in a way that makes it clear that I've seen shit that would make the devil run off' energy, which lately has taken a lot of inspiration from the character of Klaasje Amandou from Disco Elysium – Lihua has her exact cadence in my head. She also has two slightly crooked front teeth that I always picture to be a little smeared with lipstick, and she’s got constant mood swings about it – long story short, is extremely rare for her to smile wide. Jiahang himself has known her for almost two years and has never seen it. She’s kind of a loner in her group, but fully by her own choice: she thinks the girls are lame as fuck (which in her defence!!!! Perla, Jihye and Domi really are!!!! They’re peaceful women!!!)

She grew close to Dongwook because, true story!, she lightly stabbed Cain at the Night Child’s dorms once when he tried to scalate sex to a point she didn’t wanna go, a.k.a: record her to shove it at Evelyn’s face – at the time his recent ex-girlfriend – as a gotcha moment. It was a whole Thing. Dongwook was completely fascinated, because he always wants Cain to get stabbed – preferably to death, but anything will do. He personally paid for her lift home and, as he does, invited her to go party with him at HYLL, which she was like, “Eh. Why not.”, and there she’s been ever since for reasons that saying here would strip a lot of fun off some future things (I have a WIP mapped out about Jiahang’s major adventures, if you will, on the HYLL nightclub that features her heavily!)

Long story short, Dongwook really adores that self proclaimed “Rude Boy 99” (laaaaaame) to this day shits himself at the mere mention of Lihua’s name, and so does she, and they mainly get off on that – and like, you know, substance abuse, which is as sad as it sounds. Lihua took a picture of Cain crying with his tight bleeding and sent it to the Castle Girls group chat, and that gained her some brownie points all around.

Unfortunately, it still gave Cain an excuse to extract sympathy points from Evelyn, who’s not one of God’s strongest soldiers.

Speaking of little miss prim Evelyn Suh, she’s another very fun case because MBN is trying to make a Bae Suzy out of her, and despite her best efforts to fight the effect that has on her long term bond with her members, by now the tension just keeps on growing. In a way, she’s kind of being pushed into a corner just as lonely as Lihua’s, with the major difference being the lack of choice coming from her side – homegirl is losing actual sleep and a good chunk of her hair over this! –, and I find myself really having big and elaborate thoughts on their relationship progression. I think something really interesting can be said of what it means to be a ‘girl’s girl’ through them if I ever choose to actually explore it. Also, very fun black cat/imagery with these two, which I just love!

And an extra extra fact about Evelyn: she has a little crush on Chihoon, and it’s a bit of a running gag that she always approaches LOOPiN with a very smiley and very pointed, “Hi, Dylan! 🤗🤭🙂‍↔️” But it’ll never go anywhere because she’ll never fuck a loop dude. She has been through enough! I won’t allow it!

[dorkydiaz]

BIG LOVE AHEAD [1.2k | cute| small town/coffee shop au] {ao3}

for @firemedicdiaz- I hope this can be a soft blanket of distraction <3. and for @singlethread- happiest of birthdays <3

surprise i wrote an au that didnt turn into a 20k+ saga lol. Title from Big Love Ahead by Mon Rovîa. enjoy!

Evan Buckley is absolutely soaked. Standing in the rain and miserable If he’s being truly honest with himself. But that’s the thing. He should be miserable. Because he just had his heart broken. He was supposed to have had the cinematic love story— from the meet cute while he had been helping Bobby host the annual toy drive to a kiss in the rain after they decided to exchange keys and each have a drawer at the other’s place, cheesy keys in a jewelry boxes, contact paper and all. But the box is in his jacket pocket and it’s pouring rain.  and Alex was the one with the car that night so Buck trudges towards home. Trying not to think about how this news will spread throughout town, for lack of a better term, like wildfire. 

Sure he could have called a cab had his phone not died of course. So yeah he was pretty much stuck walking through town, completely soaked. 

He's not sure why he stops on the corner that he does, maybe to take a break under the awning of the little coffee shop that opened recently. He had been meaning to stop by, but it felt like a betrayal against the old machine that sputtered out the perfect cup at the station. 

He runs a hand through his sopping curls. And he hears a crack of thunder and sees a flash of lightning. 

“Fucking hell,” he mumbles to himself. 

“You wanna come inside?” 

Buck jumps as he turns towards the door, where he finds a man about his age leaning out of it. He's wearing a henley and a flannel— both of which look impossibly soft. He has a towel sling over his shoulder and gentle eyes. 

“Aren’t you uh, closed?” 

“Technically, but when I see cute guys walking through severe weather I get concerned.” 

“I- um, I don't want to keep you. I really don’t live too far.” 

“I live upstairs,” The man says and shrugs, “and I can make you a hot beverage so you don’t get sick.” 

Buck swallows the fact that standing in the rain doesn't necessarily get you sick and accepts the offer. 

Once they are both inside the other man takes stock of him and how he’s dripping onto the welcome mat. 

“Uhh let me get you a towel— and maybe a change of clothes?” 

He’s gone before Buck can protest. 

He looks around the cozy shop and then locks eyes with a pair behind red glasses. The gaze scrutinizing. 

“Who are you?” the boy demands  

“Uh, my name's Buck.”

“That's a funny name. Why are you all wet?” 

“Christopher, what have I told you about rude questions buddy?” 

“It was a valid question. I just didn't know how to explain getting brutally dumped to a six year old.” 

“I'm seven!” Christopher pipes up. 

The man laughs shyly, “I'm Eddie Diaz by the way.” 

“Evan Buckley, but everyone calls me Buck” 

“You’re the…firefighter right?” 

Buck just buries his face in his hands, “Sorry there are approximately 10 queer people in this town and we must all know each other.”

“It’s okay. There’s a bathroom around that corner.” Eddie holds out a fluffy towel and what looks like a neatly rolled t-shirt and pair of basketball shorts, “sorry this is all I had that I  thought might fit.” 

“Hey, it’s better than what I've got on.” 

He exits the small bathroom feeling a bit refreshed and finds Eddie behind the counter seemingly hard at work at a new chalkboard sign. 

“Pick your poison—tea, cocoa, or decaf?” 

“Cocoa!” Buck brightens. 

“Are you really a firefighter?” Chris asks with the pure wonderment only a seven year old can have. 

“Yeah, I am!” 

“Can I come visit and slide down the pole and sit in the truck? Please?” 

Buck smiles so much it hurts his cheeks a little bit. 

He lowers his voice down to a conspicuous whisper, “You ask your dad and I'll ask my captain and we’ll see what we can do.” 

He knew Bobby would say yes, he loves having kids at the firehouse as long as they are respectful if they have to rush off. Which doesn’t happen all that often anyway. 

Eddie comes back to the table tray in hand, loaded up with two hot chocolates and a black coffee along with a cookie split into thirds. 

“Thank you, you really didn't have to do this.” 

Eddie waves it off as he brings his mug to his lips and takes a long sip of coffee. 

“Can we please visit Buck at the firehouse Dad?” 

Eddie smiles down at Chris and ruffles his hair, “Sure kid.” 

The beaming smile that comes in return nearly blinds Buck– and only makes him smile harder too. 

☕☕☕☕☕☕

It’s two days later when Bobby texts that Marie (the coffee maker) has finally and officially shorted out (RIP) and asks Buck to bring a round of various coffee concoctions into work for the crew. 

So of course he stops by Eddie’s shop– which is of course swamped, because it's 7:30 on a Monday morning. 

Ravi, a kid he recognizes from one of their community events is behind the register while Eddie seems to be the one focusing on the drinks. 

“Hey um Ravi?” he asks while handing over the cash for the drinks, “Could you tell Eddie that I'm asking about my suit? He’ll know. Thanks.” he smiles as Ravi nods. 

🚒🚒🚒🚒🚒🚒

It's later that day, they've cleaned the entire station, as per the Monday schedule, and even went on a few calls. 

“So,” Chimney pops his gum, “I hear that you had quite the roller coaster weekend in the relationship department, Buck.” 

Buck raises his eyebrow with uncertainty. 

“Well I heard that–”

“Stopping you right there Henrietta.” Buck replies holding up his hand. 

“Yes, Alex and I broke up. And yes I met Eddie who owns the coffee shop. That's it. Happy?” 

“Then what is Eddie doing here with a child and what appears to be your date night suit?” Chimney asks eyebrows climbing rapidly. 

“Just because that's all that happened doesn't mean- Hey you two!” 

“Ravi got your message to me, I took it to the dry cleaner. And I, um, thought you would want this back too." Eddie holds out the box tentatively. “I didn't realize it was that-”

“Oh,” buck smiles, opening the box, “it's just a key- it wasn't”

“Oh!” Eddie smiles, “well regardless. It's yours.” 

Buck glances over his shoulder to see that Bobby is entertaining Chris with a plastic firefighter helmet and the different parts of the engine. 

“Come here,” Buck takes Eddie's hand and pulls him further away from the prying eyes of his well meaning but nosy family. “So, I know I was just broken up with, but I would really like to take you out on a date sometime. Or just for dinner, as a thank you. Totally fine if-”

“Yes, I'll go on a date with you.” Eddie encroaches further into his space and brushes a light kiss over his lips. “Wanted nothing more since I saw you sopping wet under the awning.” 

Buck rolls his eyes and laughs. 

“So Buckley, are we gonna get free coffee out of this whole deal or what?” Chimney asks, leaning against the engine. 

He looks up at Eddie and whispers, “you can say no,” in his ear. 

“Sure.”

“Dad, Dad, Dad, can you and Buck help me down the firefighter pole?” Chris asks, rocking excitedly on his crutches. 

“Let’s do it!” 

Eddie looks over at Buck, smiling in a way that makes Buck realize exactly where Chris gets it from, and just reflects it back.