#nah im just cheap

[techutones]

I hate spending money. So basically I'd be rich but nothing would be in my name.

[ordei]

Ooo okay so we got a new boss at work bc of management and staffing and shit its a long story, anyway. We work with a lot of heat so we're always bringing in lotions and stuff so our hands dont crack open, mine was running out so I brought a new one. Unopened.

I always take my lunch break around noon bc the break room mostly clears out around then and I can eat in peace, but today I didn't bring lunch so I went to get tacos.

While I'm gone

My new boss

Steals my lotion????

[britneyshakespeare]

There's no reason not to tip at a restaurant in the United States of America unless you are either A) a confused foreigner who has no idea that if you don't tip, your waitstaff WON'T GET PAID FOR THEIR WORK or B) a selfish asshole.

If you can afford the luxury of going out to eat, your budget for that expense best include a tip. If you don't wanna pay a tip, go get fast food. Buy food at a convenience store. Cook for yourself. Whatever. Loads of other options that are more cost-efficient for consumers than going out to eat anyway. If you are demanding food that is SERVED to you hot then you best be prepared to PAY FOR THE SERVICE YOU ARE DEMANDING.

The tipping system is fucked up in the way that workers' income relies on the politeness and generosity of random members of the public, and that it's completely legal for them to be stiffed out of their regular earnings by cheap assholes. I wish I didn't have to personally do my part in making sure my waiter can make rent at the end of the month. I wish they just got compensated regularly for their work like any other job! But they don't, and everybody knows that, and I still sometimes go out to restaurants and order food, so while that is a reality and I am contributing to that system I will make sure to compensate the servers for their work as I am reasonably expected to do.

IF YOU ENCOUNTER A WORKER WHO DEPENDS ON TIPS FOR THEIR REGULAR EARNINGS, THEN FUCKING TIP THEM SO THEY CAN AFFORD TO LIVE

[gongyoosgf]

diet pepsi. - a thangyu x reader fic

warnings: minors dni!! smutsmutsmut, reader has female genitalia! dom!thanos and namgyu, sub!reader, alcohol/drug use, thanos and namgyu do coke off readers thigh., lots of tension, nicknames like baby, senorita, sweetheart, slut, etc. groping, dry humping, throat fucking, DEGRADING, praise, fingering, overstimulation, edging, rough/unprotected sex, lowkey hand kink if you squint, mean namgyu, thanos is his own warning

an: my first smut so im sorry if its not up to your expectations! this is my interpretation of the characters so im sorry if it doesn’t line up with what you think. this is a looooonnnnngggggg fic so feel free to just skip to the smut :) tips and constructive criticism are appreciated ♡ i love you all!!

the club is alive. neon lights cut through the smoky air, pulsing in sync with the heavy bass that vibrates through the floor. the scent of sweat, spilled liquor, and cheap cologne clings to the space, thick and intoxicating. people move together on the dance floor, their bodies lost in the music, hands on waists, lips brushing against flushed skin.

but you? you're perched at the bar, untouched by the chaos, sipping on a tall glass of diet pepsi like it's the most expensive cocktail in the room. the ice clinks softly as you swirl it, the carbonation fizzing against your lips with every sip. you can feel the eyes on you, burning the back of your skull.

"you've gotta be kidding me," a voice cuts through the noise, rich with amusement.

the man who speaks leans against the counter beside you, elbow propped up, silver chains glinting under the neon glow. his entire presence is draped in black, fitted slacks, an unbuttoned silk shirt that teases the sharp lines of his collarbone. a silver ring catches the light as he lazily runs a hand through his dark wolfcut, the layered strands shifting effortlessly back into place. his eyes, hooded but keen, flicker from your drink to your face, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"soda? that's your drink of choice tonight?"

just behind him, another figure looms, exuding a different kind of presence. one that commands attention without needing to ask for it. his hair is an unmistakable shade of deep purple, styled just messy enough to look effortless. a thick silver cross hangs from his neck, draped over the colorful top he has on in contrast to the man next to him. his frame is broad, his gaze sharp, with dark eyes scanning you with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.

the purple haired man slides into the seat on your other side, his presence heavier, more controlled. he's holding a glass of dark whiskey, fingers wrapped around the crystal like he owns the place. he takes a slow sip, then sets it down with a soft *clink* before eyeing you. "she's different," he muses, voice smooth, almost approving. "everyone here is drowning in shots, and you're sipping soda like you're above it all."

you shrug, tilting your head slightly, letting their words settle before taking another sip. the cold fizz lingers on your tongue. "maybe i just like the taste."

the man dressed in black huffs a quiet laugh, studying you like he's trying to figure out a puzzle. his dark eyes flicker between your face and your drink, intrigued. "nah. you could go to any lousy restaurant and get a soda. you just like being in control."

"maybe," you admit, setting your glass down gently, fingers tracing the rim. you glance between them, eyes sharp, playful. "or maybe i just like watching idiots like you two get wasted while i stay sober enough to remember every bad decision you make."

you shift your gaze fully back to the other man with the colorful hair as he chuckles, shaking his head as he swirls his drink. "you think we’re the ones making bad decisions?"

the other leans in, closing the space between you just enough that you catch the faintest trace of his cologne. his voice dips lower, smoother, almost dangerous. "nah, sweetheart. you’re in the club with us. that means you already made one."

"i’m namgyu," he finally says, his name rolling off his tongue smoothly, like it belongs in this space, like it belongs in your ears. his gaze flickers to yours, watching for a reaction.

beside him, the taller man leans against the bar, arms crossed, the silver cross around his neck resting against the multicolored fabric of his shirt. his deep purple hair falls slightly over his forehead as he looks at you.

"thanos," he says simply, copying the other’s tone.

namgyu rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he glances at thanos. "real smooth," he teases before turning back to you. "and you? got a name, or are we just calling you diet pepsi all night?"

you consider your options. give them your name? keep them guessing? call their bluff and see how long they’ll humor this back-and-forth?

“diet pepsi’s fine.”

the smirk lingers on namgyu’s lips as he watches you take another slow sip, your eyes flickering between him and thanos like you’re weighing your options. the beat of the music feels as if it’s pressing into your skin, but here at the bar, time seems to slow.

thanos leans back slightly, taking another sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down. “so, what’s your deal, really?” he asks, his gaze steady, measuring. “you don’t drink, but you come here anyway. just for fun?”

before you can answer, namgyu leans in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to make it feel like a secret. “don’t tell me you’re waiting for someone.” his dark eyes flicker. “because that would just be tragic.”

thanos hums in agreement, though his gaze stays steady on yours. “if you are,” he says, “they’re late.”

you stare at the two in amusement before letting your eyes land on namgyu. “i’m not waiting on anyone. i’m here alone.”

namgyu chuckles, shaking his head. “you’re a real mystery, you know that?” he shifts, resting his chin on his hand as he studies you. “the kind that makes guys do stupid things just to figure you out.”

namgyu grins, sitting up suddenly, his silver rings catching the neon light. “you’re obviously not shy about standing out. let’s see if you can keep up.”

“with what?” you arch a brow.

“why don’t you dance with us, hm?” thanos whispers into your ear, sending a nervous shiver down your spine.

you hesitate, just for a second. the music shifts to something darker, sultrier, and the bodies on the dance floor move with a different kind of intensity.

“i don’t know,” you muse. “i was kind of enjoying my view from here.”

thanos tuts, reaching for your wrist—not forceful, but insistent. “come on, why don’t you give us a chance?”

with a slow, deliberate movement, you set your glass down and slide off the stool, your fingers slipping into thanos’ for just a moment before you pull away, stepping toward the dance floor. namgyu quickly follows, grinning. he watches, shaking his head.

the air is thick with sweat and bass as you step onto the dance floor, the bodies around you moving in time with the pulsing beat. the lights flash overhead, cutting through the darkness in streaks of electric blue and crimson. namgyu is close behind, his energy crackling with anticipation, while thanos lingers just a step back, observing.

thanos doesn’t hesitate. the moment you're in the thick of it, his hands find your waist, fingers grazing the fabric of your dress like he’s daring you to pull away. “no backing out, senorita,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

you smirk, letting the music guide your movements as you press your body into his just enough to make a point. “who said anything about backing out?”

his grip tightens slightly, and for once, thanos seems momentarily caught off guard, not by your words, but by the way you move, effortlessly matching his rhythm. he recovers fast, though, flashing that signature grin, the one that makes it impossible to tell if he’s planning something charming or reckless. namgyu watches, arms crossed, lips curved in mild amusement.

“you just gonna stand there?” you call over the music, throwing a glance over your shoulder at him.

thanos laughs, spinning you so your back is against his chest. his breath is warm against your ear. “don’t pay him too much mind, he’ll get out here when he feels like it.”

you hum, tilting your head slightly, your body still moving in sync with the music. “and when will that be?”

for a moment, namgyu just watches you, his dark eyes taking you in like he’s trying to find the answer to a question you haven’t even asked. then, instead of responding, he walks up to you and reaches out, fingers brushing against you. it’s subtle, nothing like thanos’ reckless touches, but it sends a wave of energy through your body.

thanos notices, of course. he always does. his grin widens, but there’s something sharp behind it now, something almost territorial. “careful, gyu,” he mutters. “wouldn’t want you getting in over your head.”

namgyu doesn’t flinch. “you assume i don’t already know what i’m doing.”

your heart pounds from the way the air between the three of you seems to thicken. without thinking, you carefully place your hands over namgyu’s shoulders while simultaneously pushing yourself back on thanos.

“holy shit,” thanos mutters, his hard-on evident against your back. namgyu watches with inviting eyes, letting you run your hands all over his shirt before unbuttoning a few at the top.

thanos spins you back around, his eyes dark with something unreadable. namgyu lingers just close enough to make his presence known. namgyu puts his hands on your waist, replacing thanos’ as thanos brings his hands up to your chest. you let yourself get completely lost in the feeling. lost in the feeling of two attractive men who treat you like you’re the only girl in the world while the music only seems to get louder.

one second, namgyu is there, watching, kneading at the skin on your waist, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. the next, he’s gone.

thanos doesn’t seem to notice or care. “you’re holding back,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear. “thought you were supposed to be the one in control.”

you just smirk, letting your hips roll a little slower, a little more deliberate, watching the way his breath catches. “and yet,” you tease, “you’re the one trying so hard to keep up with me.”

thanos opens his mouth, probably to throw back some cocky remark, but before he can, namgyu is back.

you feel his presence before you see him, the shift in energy, the weight of his stare. when you turn, he’s standing just behind you like he was earlier, only this time he has something with him.

in his ringed hand, he holds something dark and rich swirling in a shot glass held carefully between his fingers.

he doesn’t say anything at first, just studies you with that expression of his before lifting the glass toward your lips.

“it’s not too strong,” he finally says, voice smooth, steady. “i promise.”

you raise a brow, amusement flickering in your eyes. “and what exactly is this?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he tilts the glass just slightly, close enough that you catch the faint scent, something smoky, laced with something sweet. not whiskey. not tequila. something else.

“something i think you’ll like” he finally says.

you hesitate, lips just barely brushing the rim of the glass, your pulse steady despite the way the moment stretches. there’s something almost intimate in the way namgyu is watching you, the way his fingers hover just close enough that if you moved even a fraction, they’d brush against your skin.

and maybe it’s reckless, maybe this is exactly the kind of bad decision you swore you wouldn’t make, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to play along.

so, you part your lips and take the shot.

the liquid burns, but not in the way you expect. it’s smoother than you thought it would be, rich and dark, with a lingering heat that settles low in your stomach. there’s a hint of something you can’t quite place, something familiar yet foreign, a contradiction in itself.

they both watch, waiting.

you swallow, letting the warmth settle, then tilt your head, eyes locked on namgyu. “not bad,” you admit.

his lips twitch, just barely, almost like he was expecting that answer.

thanos, on the other hand, scoffs. “you would just take anything we give you, isn’t that right?”

namgyu‘s lips barely quirk into a smile, “what a whore, grinding on a dude she just met while letting another feed her a random drink.”

they talk about you like you’re not there.

you should be upset that namgyu just called you a whore, but with whatever drink he just gave you coursing through your veins, it only makes your hips move quicker against thanos.

namgyu watches you for a beat, as if making sure he has your full attention, then leans in slightly. his voice is low, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the back of the club. “i wanna show you something.”

you glance at thanos, who raises a brow, looking almost amused. but there’s something else there too, like he knows something you don’t. he doesn’t say anything, just runs a hand through his hair, then gestures for you to follow.

namgyu leads the way, cutting through the crowd with the kind of quiet confidence that makes people instinctively step aside. you walk between them, thanos at your back, the heavy beat of the music fading slightly as you move toward a secluded hallway.

a bouncer stands at the entrance of a dimly lit doorway, arms crossed over his chest. he barely acknowledges thanos and namgyu before stepping aside, letting the three of you pass without question.

the room inside is different from the rest of the club, more intimate, more controlled. the neon chaos is replaced with softer lighting, casting long shadows against the sleek furniture. a plush leather couch stretches along the wall, occupied by a few others, people who exude the same energy as thanos and namgyu. confident. dangerous. unbothered.

a tall man with a bunch of tattoos and gold rings stacked on his fingers lounges in the corner, swirling a glass of something dark. a woman in a sleek black dress sits beside him, legs crossed, her gaze flicking toward you with mild interest. you study all of the people in the room with an intense focus.

thanos gestures toward the couch, wordlessly inviting you to sit. you hesitate, just for a second, then lower yourself onto the soft leather. namgyu drops down beside you with a lazy grin, slinging an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder.

thanos takes a seat across from you, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.

“this is different,” you mutter, glancing between the both of them, waiting for someone to fill the silence that lingers in the air.

namgyu chuckles and tilts your head back, “not really that loud environment you love, is it?”

before you can say anything, thanos lifts a hand in the air, and almost instantly, one of the guys at the far end of the room pulls something from his jacket, setting a small, velvet-lined box on the table between you.

your eyes flicker to it, curiosity sparking.

namgyu leans in, smirking. “still feeling in control, hm?”

your pulse ticks up. not with fear, but with something else. anticipation. excitement.

you meet thanos’s gaze, steady and unwavering, and rest your fingers lightly against the table in front of you.

“i guess that depends,” you murmur, tilting your head. “what exactly am i looking at?”

you run your tongue over your bottom lip, leaning forward slightly, your fingertips tracing the box in front of you.

namgyu grins, reaching for the box with slow, deliberate movements, as if he’s savoring the anticipation. “that,” he says, flipping open the lid with a flick of his wrist, “depends on what kind of night you’re looking for.”

inside, nestled against black velvet, are a few neatly wrapped packets. small, unassuming, but unmistakable. alongside them, a clear bag of colorful pills. whatever it is, it looks odd. and probably illegal.

your expression doesn’t change, but you feel namgyu watching you, waiting for a reaction.

you lift your eyes to thanos. he’s still calm, unreadable, but there’s something expectant in the way he holds himself. he’s testing you. not just your curiosity, but your control.

“you think this is my kind of thing?” you ask.

namgyu laughs, slouching back against the couch, his fingers resting your shoulder. “oh, i don’t know,” he muses. “you’re full of surprises.”

thanos leans forward slightly, resting his hands on his knees. “it’s not about what we think,” he says. “it’s about what you want.”

you exhale softly, tapping your nails against namgyu’s leg. the music from the club outside is distant now, like a heartbeat pulsing just beneath the surface.

“i don’t do cheap thrills,” you say, flicking your eyes between the two men.

namgyu sighs, shaking his head. “you really are something else, aren’t you?”

you smirk, reaching for the box, examining the powder. “took you this long to figure that out?”

thanos leans back, watching you with content eyes as you slowly rip open the bag he gives a nod to namgyu and with a silent understanding, namgyu carefully takes the bag from your hands.

namgyu nudges your knee with his own, looking at the bag you earlier opened. “i wanna try something, if you trust us?”

you consider his question, aware of the weight it carries. trust is a delicate thing, especially with people you've just met. while the evening has been enjoyable, it's natural to feel cautious.

“trust isn't something to be given lightly. it's earned." you whisper, looking at namgyu’s ringed hands.

namgyu’s grin widens, his eyes following your gaze. thanos watches closely, a glint of approval in his eyes.

namgyu shakes his head like he can’t decide whether to be impressed or frustrated. “you love playing hard to get, don’t you?”

you smirk, shifting just slightly so your knee brushes against his. “i just like keeping you guessing.”

“yeah? maybe we like to keep you guessing, sweetheart.” without a second beat, namgyu carefully holds the open bag of powder and tilts it slightly, the substance spilling over your leg.

you gasp, looking over at thanos, who seems to be enjoying this. the way he studies you, the way he lets you navigate the tension in the room, it’s deliberate. he doesn’t take his eyes off your leg, coated with a white powder.

“namgyu,” he mumbles, “it’s not fair that you get to have all the fun.”

namgyu nods over to thanos, who quickly gets up from his chair across from you. you watch as he makes room on the other side of the leather couch, knee brushing against yours.

you try not to let the dip in the couch shake the powder dancing across your thigh, waiting for the next move.

the others in the room have gone back to their own conversations, but you can feel their awareness, the way they’re still listening, still watching.

namgyu hands the bag to thanos, who happily takes the bag of the remaining substance into his tattooed hands.

thanos grins, his fingers playing idly with the plastic. “you’re enjoying this,” he says easily. “the power play. the fact that we’re both sitting here trying to figure you out, and you love every second of it.”

you don’t deny it. you don’t confirm it either.

instead, you lean back against the couch, letting your gaze drift between the two of them. “you two are just fun to play with.”

thanos simply watches you, quiet for a moment before nodding, following namgyu’s earlier movements and pouring the remaining substance onto your thigh. “fair enough.”

your breath hitches in your throat, trying not to show how nervous you really are.

namgyu leans forward, slow and deliberate, until he’s just close enough that you can feel the warmth of him against your leg, presence like a storm waiting to break. his voice is low, meant only for you.

“do you still trust us, sweetheart?”

the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. namgyu doesn’t move away, doesn’t blink, he’s giving you a choice. you can pull back, keep the control you claim to love, or you can see just how far this power play goes.

thanos watches with thinly veiled amusement. his fingers drum lazily against your thigh, but there’s a sharpness in his gaze, an anticipation like he’s waiting for something to break.

you hold namgyu’s stare, letting the silence stretch. then, ever so slowly, you tilt your chin down slightly, just enough to match his proximity.

“yes” you murmur, voice steady despite the way your pulse ticks up.

in the blink of an eye, almost like they planned it, both namgyu and thanos go down until their noses gently brush against your thigh, breathing in the thick powder.

namgyu’s movements are slow, getting all he can, while thanos’ movements are messy and quick.

thanos throws his head back against the couch with a loud, “fuck!”

namgyu rests his head against your thigh now, breathing heavily. once he takes a final deep breath, feeling the drug flow through his body, he leans up, face inches away from your chest and stares darts into your eyes.

namgyu lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “shit, this is good.”

you sit there, completely frozen.

did you seriously just let two strangers do coke off your thigh?

you let out a shaky breath, letting your gaze rest on thanos instead of the man so close to you. you watch his adam’s apple bob up and down, before he pulls his head from the back of the couch and gives you a lazy smile, his eyes half-hooded.

“you look tense," he rumbles, voice thick with amusement. "you want some, pretty?

your face contorts into one of disgust, your stomach twisting at the casual arrogance in his tone.

"i'm good," you say flatly, shifting away slightly, but his gaze never wavers.

thanos chuckles, deep and slow, like he finds your reaction amusing. his tatted fingers drum idly against the arm of the couch.

"suit yourself," he muses, stretching his arms out, taking up a good bit of the couch. "but you should learn to relax. i don’t bite… unless you ask nicely."

your jaw clenches. you’re not sure what’s worse, the teasing or the fact that he’s so unbothered about it.

"you really should take it as a compliment," namgyu murmurs, tilting his head to glance up at you once more. his voice is smooth but hoarse, as if he’s simply observing rather than intruding. "he doesn’t offer this to just anyone."

thanos exhales through his nose, something between a sigh and a chuckle. he shifts in his seat, leaning back slightly, legs spread that silver cross dangles against his chest, rising and falling with each slow breath.

“come here, angel.”

it’s not a question. it’s not even a request. it’s a command wrapped in something deceptively soft.

the weight of the words sends something sharp through your spine, something thrilling and unexpected. you hesitate, not because you don’t want to, but because thanos doesn’t seem like the type to say things just to say them. he expects you to listen.

you pull yourself off the couch for a moment, and thanos lifts a hand, resting it lightly against your hip. not pulling, just holding it there, solid and steady.

and when you finally settle onto his lap, his other hand finds your thigh, fingers curling just enough to hold you in place. his body is warm, solid beneath you. and the way he exhales, just the slightest shift in his breath, like this is exactly where he wanted you.

“comfortable?” he asks, low and smooth.

you nod slowly, feeling the warmth of thanos beneath you, the weight of his hands keeping you in place. his fingers flex just slightly against your thigh.

but your eyes? your eyes drift to namgyu.

he’s watching you. watching this.

his hair falls slightly over his face, shadowing his hooded gaze. “you look good like that,” he murmurs, lips curving into something just short of a smirk.

thanos hums, low and satisfied, his grip on you tightening just slightly. “she does, doesn’t she?” his deep voice tickling the shell of your ear.

your pulse kicks up, just a little. maybe it’s the way they’re looking at you. maybe it’s the weight of the moment. or maybe it’s the way you can feel thanos’ slow, steady breath against your neck while namgyu watches you from across the small space between you.

namgyu exhales through his nose, shaking his head like he’s amused. “and here i thought you’d be the one making us work for it,” he smiles, dark eyes glinting. “but look at you.”

thanos’ hand trails idly along your thigh, his fingers toying with the hem of your dress. he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him as he shifts beneath you, in the way his hold stays firm.

“you sure you can handle both of us, hm?” namgyu says, like he already knows the answer.

your breath catches, just for a second.

thanos shifts beneath you, his fingers pressing slightly into your thigh while his dick is just inches away from where you need it most. his body is solid beneath you, steady, as if grounding you even as the energy between the three of you sharpens.

you look up, meeting namgyu’s gaze head-on. “you sound confident,” you murmur, voice steady despite the way your pulse is racing. “you sure it’s me who should be worried?”

namgyu’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he exhales a quiet laugh. “oh she’s got a fucking mouth on her, huh?”

thanos hums in agreement, his grip on your waist tightening for just a moment before relaxing again. “i noticed.”

you bite your lip as you feel thanos start to slowly rock your against his own, trying to find some friction. you can feel how wet you are, and you’re sure he can, too.

you shift slightly on thanos’s lap, just to see if he’ll react. he throws his head back on the couch and looks up at the ceiling, letting his eyes shut at the feeling.

namgyu notices, of course he does. he pulls your chin up to look him in the eyes as you rock against thanos, pulling your lip from between your teeth and dragging his finger against the plush skin.

“you like putting on a show, don’t you?” his dark eyes flicker with something teasing, “slut.”

your breath catches as you clench around nothing, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say smoothly, tilting your head just enough to feign innocence.

namgyu exhales a short laugh, shaking his head.“oh, you definitely do,” he muses, the corner of his mouth curling. “look at you, desperately moving on thanos’ lap, acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

thanos hums in agreement, almost not noticing your hips stutter to a stop. you shift slightly, moving to lift yourself off thanos’s lap, the tension crackling between the three of you thick enough to drown in.

“did i say stop?” namgyu asks, thumb pressing into your chin harshly.

you swallow, lips parting, but namgyu’s thumb presses a little harder against your chin, stopping whatever excuse you were about to give.

“go on,” he murmurs, “tell us you don’t love this attention.”

thanos exhales, low and steady, his presence behind you solid, unshaken. "she does," he groans, pulling his head off the couch. “she just wants to see what happens if she runs.”

namgyu clicks his tongue, shaking his head like he’s disappointed. “bad habit, sweetheart.” his grip on your chin softens just slightly, but his eyes stay sharp. “didn’t your parents teach you that if you start something, you finish it?”

a soft, needy sound escapes you before you can stop it. a quiet whine, barely audible over the faint murmurs of the others, the distant music of the club, but loud enough for them to hear. loud enough for namgyu’s eyes to widen.

“jesus christ,” thanos smiles, pushing his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there.

namgyu exhales a slow breath, shaking his head. “fucking pathetic,” he smiles, his voice dripping with amusement. “barely had to do anything, and you’re already desperate.” his thumb traces your jaw again, the cool metal of his rings grounding against your flushed skin.

behind you, thanos hums in quiet agreement, his breath warm against your ear. “guess she just needed a little push.” his tone is smooth, but you feel the satisfaction in the way he holds you in place. “didn’t take much, either.”

“you were made to be ruined.” namgyu mutters.

your lips part, but no sound comes out. you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat, but even that feels like too much effort under their gaze. your eyes dart between them, looking back at thanos with wide eyes.

"people will see," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

namgyu's smirk deepens, something dark flickering in his gaze as he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. the weight of his touch makes it impossible to ignore him.

"that's the problem, angel," he murmurs, voice smooth as silk. "you like that, don’t you?"

behind you, thanos chuckles lowly. his grip on you tightens just slightly, like he's making sure you don’t even think about pulling away. "she does," he muses, his breath warm against your ear. "that little shiver? that wasn’t fear." his fingers trail down your side. "that was excitement.”

your breath catches, a new wave of heat rushing through you. just outside the door, the club is packed, neon lights flashing, bodies moving in sync with the music. yet here, in their hold, it’s like the rest of the world fades into a blur.

namgyu leans in just a fraction more, his lips brushing against your cheek. “let them watch,” he whispers, his voice laced with something wicked. “let them see who you really belong to.”

his fingers tighten around your chin, tilting your face up just the way he wants before his lips crash against yours, hot and demanding. there’s nothing gentle about it. he kisses you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

his teeth graze your bottom lip before he bites down, just hard enough to make you gasp. It’s all the invitation he needs before his tongue slips past your parted lips, deepening the kiss.

“see?” he murmurs, pulling away from your lips. “you love being handled.”

“please,” you mutter, completely at their mercy.

namgyu laughs, almost as if he’s making fun of you. “please?” he repeats, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “that’s all you’ve got?”

thanos exhales a quiet chuckle behind you, “i think she can do better than that,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “doesn’t sound desperate enough yet.”

namgyu nods his head in agreement, his fingers ghosting down your throat, silver rings cool against your heated skin. “c’mon,” he coaxes. “if you really want more, you know how to ask for it.”

you swallow hard, your lips parting as you whisper, “please… i need—”

namgyu tuts, cutting you off with a slow shake of his head. “not good enough.” his fingers tighten just slightly against your neck tilting your face up toward him again. “say it properly, sweetheart. tell us exactly what you need.”

thanos lets out a low hum of approval, his hands sliding just a fraction lower. “be a good girl,” he murmurs. “use your words.”

you exhale a shaky breath, your fingers curling into namgyu’s shirt as you finally let go of the last shred of hesitation.

“please,” you whisper, voice raw, needy. “i want you.”

namgyu’s smirk deepens, his grip tightening, his lips barely ghosting over yours. “that’s more like it.”

and then, he kisses you again, harder this time, hungrier, like he’s been waiting for this just as much as you have.

behind you, thanos says, “see?” he murmurs against your ear, voice low and teasing. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” His fingers slide down, his touch slow, like he’s testing how much you can take.

namgyu’s teeth graze your bottom lip before he pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your mouth. “so eager,” he mutters, amusement laced in his tone.

thanos smiles. “bet you’d let us do anything we wanted, wouldn’t you?” his hands dancing across your inner thigh, inches away from where you need him most. “just as long as we keep giving you what you want.”

your breath catches, your body betraying you before you can even think of a response.

namgyu studies you for a moment, then, without warning, grabs your wrist, his grip firm but unyielding.

“get up,” he orders, voice low and commanding.

thanos doesn’t hesitate either. his hands slide back to your waist, steady and possessive as he helps you off his lap, lingering just long enough to make sure you feel the loss of his touch. the moment you’re standing, namgyu tugs you forward, moving through the small group of people who pay you no mind.

you barely have time to process where they’re leading you before namgyu stops in front of an unmarked door, tucked away in a dark corner of the club. he doesn’t knock. he doesn’t hesitate. he simply pushes it open and drags you inside.

the room is dimly lit, quiet compared to the rest of the club, the muffled bass still thrumming through the walls. an office, by the looks of it, sleek leather couches, a heavy wooden desk, liquor bottles lining the shelves.

you hear the door behind you click and you turn around, seeing thanos holding the doorknob. before you even get a chance to speak, namgyu’s hands are on your waist, spinning you around to face him as he presses you against the desk. his lips curl into a smirk. “you knew this was coming, didn’t you?” his voice is a lazy drawl, almost daring you to deny it.

the room feels like it’s closing in on you. the music from the club muffles in the distance, the sharp, neon lights outside barely cutting through the heavy shadows that fill the office. namgyu stands a few steps away, eyes scanning you with amusement, while thanos is right behind you, a solid presence at your back that you can’t ignore. the closeness between the three of you feels too much, too intense. your breath hitches in your chest, and your body trembles slightly.

“look at you,” namgyu’s voice is smooth, his eyes flickering over you. “you can’t control that fucking shaking.”

you try to steady yourself, but it’s no use. his gaze feels like a weight pressing down on you, and with thanos so close behind, you’re caught in between them.

thanos steps closer. “are you scared?” he asks, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place. “or are you just excited because we’ve got you all to ourselves now?”

“im not scared of you two,” you swallow hard, trying to control your racing pulse.

a throaty laugh erupts from the both of them, mocking you.

“do you like the attention we’re giving you sweetheart?” namgyu whispers, pushing his thigh between your legs.

you try to find your voice, but it comes out barely a whisper. “i— i don’t know.”

namgyu leans in just slightly, his voice soft but laden with an edge that sends a shiver down your spine. "you look a little trapped, sweetheart," he murmurs, the corner of his lips lifting in that teasing smirk. "is that how you like it?"

you swallow, trying to keep your composure, but your heart is racing, your body betraying you with every pulse of heat that floods your skin. you try to move, but namgyu’s leg between your thighs keeps you in place, his gaze never leaving yours.

you let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as his hands settle on your hips. he gives an experimental roll of his thigh, and the friction against your clothed core draws a sharp gasp from your lips. the sensation is maddening, just enough to start the fire that’s been smoldering inside you, but not nearly enough to satisfy.

you slowly move your hips, starting a delicious rhythm. the friction makes you moan, feels so good you don’t even realize you’re making a sound. you rock yourself back and forth, back and forth. the movement jostling your tits.

namgyu’s eyes flicker down, his eyebrows raising. a low groan emanates from his throat. the sound taking you to another level.

thanos reaches up, pulling the front of your dress down. his eyes flare in response, breaking his tense posture to reach up with both hands on your bra.

“holy fuck,” thanos whispers, feeling the lace of your bra make indents on his fingers with how hard he’s squeezing.

“stop teasing..” you mutter through a whine, hips jerking.

“me? teasing you?” thanos questions, quirking an eyebrow. “after you were in a room full of people grinding on me?

namgyu puts one hand behind your back and unclips your bra, other hand not leaving your hip as you look for the desperate release you crave.

your bra falls to the floor in front of you, and your eyes follow slowly.

namgyu’s smirk never wavers as his fingers move until they’re cradling your face. his palms are warm, his grip firm. with a slight tilt of his head, he tightens his hold, his fingertips digging in just enough to part your lips slightly. his thumbs press against your jawline, keeping you still, keeping you exactly where he wants you. his dark eyes flicker over your face, drinking in every reaction, your widened eyes, the way your breath catches, the way your body tenses under his touch.

both of their eyes look down at your chest, and you’re quick to cover yourself. thanos clips his tongue and grabs your hands, pushing them down quickly. “don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful.”

thanos pinches a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. the combined stimulation drives you to move your hips faster, gripping your fingers into the sturdy angles of his shoulders.

you crinkle your hands into namgyu’s shirt, and your hands on him has his cock aching, no doubt leaking precum all over the front of his underwear. he can’t believe what you’re able to do to him without even trying.

that’s it” he coos, leaning back just pinning you with a stare that has you melting already. “fuck, look at you, a goddamn slut. you look so dirty like this...”

you bite your lip, suppressing a moan as the pleasure builds, the fabric of your clothes rubbing deliciously against your throbbing core. the wetness between your legs is undeniable now, soaking through your panties, your racing suit and onto his thigh. you know he can feel it too, and the realization only makes you grind down harder, your desperation growing with every passing second.

“please, i need more,” you whimper, the words slipping out in a moment of vulnerability. your voice is heavy with desperation, your body trembling with the effort to find release.

“namgyu..” thanos whispers, toying with your tits. “i’m tired of fucking waiting.”

without a second beat, namgyu pulls his thigh away from in between your legs. your hips stutter and you feel yourself falling, but he’s quick to catch you. you whine loudly, feeling the warm feeling in your stomach slowly fade away.

“come on, sweetheart,” namgyu tuts, mocking you. “you can’t even fucking stand?”

before you can fully register it, hands settle on your shoulders, firm, steady, unmistakably thanos. his touch is hurried, an undeniable strength beneath it. without a word, he turns you around, guiding you with ease until your chest is pressed against the desk’s edge. the wood is cold against your fingertips as you brace yourself, heart pounding in your chest.

thanos stands close, his frame imposing as he looks down at you, his expression unreadable. his fingers trail down your arms before settling at your waist, the pressure light but commanding.

namgyu leans casually against the desk beside you, watching with an amused tilt of his head. his eyes flicker between you and thanos, a smirk playing at his lips. "gotta see this pretty pussy," he mumbles, tapping his fingers against the desk’s surface.

thanos hums in agreement, his fingers flexing slightly at your sides, “bet she’s fucking dripping.”

namgyu pushes your dress up past your ass, both men soaking in the view in front of them. you push your hips back involuntarily.

namgyu leans in just slightly, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “i can feel you shaking,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, a spark of something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “nervous?”

you don’t answer, and that only seems to amuse him more.

thanos clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “she’s quiet again.” his thumbs press just slightly into your waist, the warmth of his touch sending another shiver through you. “that’s cute.”

namgyu watches the way your breath hitches at that, and his smirk widens. “you like when he talks to you like that, don’t you?” his tone is teasing, knowing, like he already has the answer. he trails a finger lightly along your wrist before brushing it beneath your chin, tilting your face up just slightly. “come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, dark eyes glinting. “use your words.”

your lips part, but the only thing that escapes is a shaky moan.

thanos chuckles softly, his voice low, almost taunting. “looks like we’ll have to help her out.”

in a swift motion, thanos pulls your underwear down, leaving it at your ankles. you hear a dark chuckle behind you, undeniably namgyu.

your stomach flips, and you try to look away, only for namgyu’s grip on your chin to keep you in place. “oh no,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “you don’t get to look away now. you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“god, she’s fucking drenched.” thanos groans, and namgyu lets go of your chin. he goes back behind you, out of view.

you feel a long finger dance around your pussy, collecting the slick that threatens to drip to the floor.

“such a pretty pussy,” thanos whispers, more to himself than anyone else. "you hear that, namgyu? you hear how wet she is?"

"fuck, yeah," namgyu replies, a hand rubbing over the bulge of his pants. he had to admit, he was jealous of thanos, him being able to please you first.

"hurry up, thanos. i want to touch her next." thanos chuckles, turning his attention back to you. "doesn't that turn you on, hm? don't you like hearing how badly namgyu wants to touch you like this?" thanos says, pressing a thumb against your clit and creating sensual circles around the area that makes you more sensitive. you moan as a response, your body trembling from his actions. "yes.. shit,, i want namgyu- to touch me too.." you reply.

looking at namgyu who nearly came from the needy pitch of your voice.

"you heard her, ‘gyu," thanos says, glancing at namgyu with a grin and you found yourself in between the two men. while thanos slowly pushed a finger into your aching pussy and rubbing circles against your clit, namgyu had pushed you up with his hands to touch your breasts. thanos holds you, your back against his chest, letting namgyu pinch your nipples with his fingers, getting a little whine out of your mouth.

"you fucking disgust me," namgyu insults, leaving love marks on your neck and he kisses your shoulders. the beautiful sounds you’re making just leaves namgyu wanting to mark you all over with his mouth. he pinches your nipples again, “you’re so greedy, one person touching you isn’t enough?”

thanos smirks, slipping another finger into your pussy. your eyes widen in astonishment, feeling yourself stretch around his fingers. your moans become louder at that point, due to the combination of namgyu leaving marks all over you while fondling your nipples as thanos plays with your pussy.

"yeah, that's a good girl. moan just for me," thanos adds, smirking as his knuckles began smacking the entrance of your pussy.

namgyu glares at thanos, before slipping one hand away from your breast to grab your head. namgyu turns your face towards him and presses his lips against yours while maintaining eye contact with thanos. the purple haired man furrows his brows, watching as you and namgyu’s tongues swirled sloppily around each others. the two now seem to have an ongoing battle of who can please you the best.

“ 'm gonna c-cum," you utter through your moans, mouth parting slightly from namgyu’s, a strong of saliva connecting from your tongue to his. thanos smiles, curling his fingers to rub faster against your g-spot. "c'mon princess, cum for me," he says, lowering his face to your pussy and replaces his thumb with his tongue on your clit.

"oh f-fuck, thanos-" you mewl his name, eyes nearly rolling back as your legs tremble from the fast licks his tongue was giving against your clit. namgyu couldn't do much but continue to play with your breast and watch thanos fuck your pussy until you came. namgyu grunts as your hands push to free his cock out and wrap around his girth.

your mind is too overstimulated with the situation and you couldn't bother caring about anything else. "shitshitshit, i'm cumming-" you cry out, gushing over thanos’ mouth and fingers.

thanos licks and cleans all of your juices that squirted onto your thighs and by his mouth, savoring the taste. he stares deep into namgyu’s eyes when licking off your arousal on his fingers, smiling cockily since namgyu wasn't able to get a taste. "i might actually get addicted to this pussy," he comments before he unzips his pants to releases his hard throbbing cock.

your eyes widen at the sight of both of their dicks as you come down from your high. "oh, you scared, princess?" namgyu chuckles, but you instantly shake your head.

namgyu pushes you back to your original position against the desk, admiring how your pussy clenches around nothing. “please fuck me, namgyu..”

"you hear that, thanos? hear and see how she's begging for my cock?" namgyu asks, glancing at thanos to see his reaction. he just needed to rub it in the others face.

thanos steps in front of the desk you lay face down on, pulling you up slightly by your hair. a pained whine falls from your lips and you reach up to grab thanos’ hand, but he’s quick to put his cock in your grasp.

thanos glares at namgyu, not replying as his attention was mostly on the way your hand gripped around his cock. "you’re clenching around nothing, angel. that desperate?" namgyu adds, teasing your wet entrance with the tip of his cock before pushing his tip past your folds.

"o-oh my god-" you moan, eyes widening from the feeling of namgyu’s cock rubbing against your walls, nearly making you cum again. namgyu grunts when your tight pussy instantly clenches around him, and he quietly chuckles.

"fuck..," he moans, letting you adjust to the tip before pushing inside another inch.

"touch me too, angel. don't forget about me," thanos whimpers, his words purring into the air as he bucks his hips up to feel your soft hand rub against his desperate cock. you began to pump your hand along thanos’ cock just like he wanted, causing him to moan above you. you look up at him in front of the desk with pleading eyes, seeing his hooded ones catch yours. “s-shit.. i might cum just because of your hands," he chuckles.

namgyu’s hands grip tightly on your hips as he completely bottoms out inside of you, his cock was already fucked deep into you, spreading and pleasuring your walls towards your next orgasm. "n-ngh.. squeezing me so damn hard. you want my cum that badly, baby?" namgyu groans, faintly throwing his head back.

"y-yes, pleaseee," you whine, your cunt sucking in namgyu’s cock at his words. the man groans, starting a rough pace and drilling deeper into your pussy.

thanos intently watches namgyu pounds into your needy hole relentlessly, turning you into a crying and moaning mess. his dick twitches at the sight of you two connecting, making him wonder what it'd be like to be in namgyu’s position.

"fuckkk, holy fuck-" thanos chants, his eyes nearly rolling back because of how satisfied his dick was feeling. "we should make her ours, thanos. make her our whore, yeah?" namgyu glances at thanos, who only moans as a response when you swirl your thumb around his swollen tip. "seems like she wants to, thanos. the way she's clenching her dirty little cunt tightly around me tells me she wants to be ours. that right, slut?" namgyu utters, now staring into your tear filled eyes as he continues thrusting into you.

you nod your head several times, unable to even speak.

“come on, sweetheart. put it in your mouth, okay?” thanos groans, rubbing his precum on your cheek.

you slowly take thanos in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his swollen tip. you bob your head slowly back and forth, sucking and slurping thanos’ cock while using another hand to pump the rest of his length that was unable to fit into your mouth.

even with something inside your mouth, you couldn’t control the loud moans that you breathe out through your nose.

"hear her, thanos? she's moaning like a damn slut," namgyu grins, slapping your ass.

"yeah, i like it," thanos replies, pushing his length into your mouth again, feeling your moans vibrate against his dick. "g-gonna fill her mouth with my cum..”

as namgyu was reaching his climax, he penetrates his cock deeper into your cunt, making sure all of his cum would reach into your womb. you cry out, rushes of ecstasy flowing through your veins before namgyu shoots his warm seed into you. at the same moment, thanos prods his entire length into your mouth, whether it fit or not, and releases his load into the back of your throat. your mind is completely scrambled, cramped with lust struck thoughts of the two men.

“holy shit,” thanos groans, holding your head in place on his dick while namgyu keeps fucking into you, allowing you to find your own orgasm.

you cum with a loud whine, hips shaking uncontrollably as namgyu roughly pushes all of his cum into your tight hole. the office around you was going black, your nose being pushed into thanos’ pubic bone as you try to find the air to breathe.

thanos pulls out of your mouth with a *pop* and smiles down at you widely. “you’re amazing.”

“she’s a fucking whore is what she is.” namgyu hisses, slapping your ass one more time before pulling out completely.

you keep your filled cunt exposed to him, moaning softly when namgyu’s cum begins to spill out.

- - - - ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

uhhh taglist: @kouzih @cybrasigilism

[cranberrv]

⪩⪨ dating johnny cade headcanons

a/n : i hate this, i’m so sorry this took me all of 15 minutes but i needed to post something !!!!! maybe ill make a better version sometime, stay tuned <3 requests open btw (not proofread not proofread ignore any mistakes lovely)

- you’re his saviour

- you know the saying, ‘when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light?’

- you’re his light

- if he’s having a bad day or his parents have kicked him out again, guess who he’s going to?

- not even to talk about it, just to be surrounded by this warmth that makes him forget about all his problems

- unlike dallas, he loves hugs and cuddling all. the. time.

- well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. he hates cuddling in front of the gang. the gang will just tease him but his relationship with you is something he doesn’t wanna be teased about

- he doesn’t like big gestures

- he’s not the type to write you a poem (ponyboy cough cough) and he’s not the type to buy you cliche gifts like chocolate and flowers

- he does things that mean something, like a necklace with your favourite flower on it, a shirt of a band you two like listening to together

- one of his favourite pastimes is listening to music w you actually!

- i like to think johnny really likes music, like elvis and van morrison

- he’ll always buy new cassettes to listen to with you

- he wishes he could take you to concerts, but he’s too broke for that :(

- ugh i should probably move on but imagine spooning with johnny on your bed listening to music that’s adorable

- if he sees you laughing with a guy he doesn’t know or trust, he’ll feel a mix of jealous and insecure

- he doesn’t act on his jealousy, he just patiently waits until it’s his turn to talk to you

- if you bring up that he’s acting up, he’s not gonna talk about it, denying it

- “nah man idk what you mean, im fine”

- you guys argue occasionally, but only about things that really matter

- he doesn’t want you talking to socs, or you don’t want him to live with his parents anymore

- it’s a reasonable and patient conversation over an argument in his mind

- he has never made you cry and never will, or else he’ll cry

- sitting in the lot gazing up at the stars is his idea of a date. pointing out the moon and making a wish on the first star. smoking cigarettes and sitting back on the cheap fabric of some old thrown-out furniture

- him wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him, the two of you falling asleep under the stars

- sometimes you’ll catch him just staring at you. not in a creepy or weird way, just admiring.

- noticing his shoulders relax when he’s in a poor mood but then suddenly you come around is your favourite feeling

- he makes you feel so special, like you’re worth a million bucks

- he practically worships the ground you walk on (and vice versa!)

- puppy love

- you two like each other soooo much and it’s so obvious

- sometimes he gets a little insecure around the gang or socs, not being all mushy (not like he usually is anyway)

- he’s usually more reserved, saving the cuddling and gifts for alone time

- anyway you two are in love probably and it’s really cute

- sorry lovely this was rly rushed :( ill post a better version soon 💋

[bellobambino]

'O Sole Mio'

?: After a few glasses of cheap Chianti, Luigi tells you a story. Nothing could have prepared you for its delivery.

1,080w

Author's Note: I don't have any words left after this, all i have is feelings and crying and ... im so gone for him. ive lost my mind. i dont know if this shit makes any sense but i was just about weeping writing it LOL

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

It was the last golden gasp of summer at Seaside Heights, the kind of evening that feels like a postcard itself. The boardwalk was alive with the smell of fried dough and the sound of distant screaming children on rides powered by questionable engineering. Luigi and I had wedged ourselves into a corner table on the patio at some hole-in-the-wall Italian place.

We had ordered slices and “just a glass” of wine, which inevitably became, “Just bring us the bottle.” By the time I was three pours deep, Luigi had his legs stretched out like he owned the place.

His eyes, espresso-dark and shining under the cheap string lights of the boardwalk, were giving me that look. You know the one. Like he knew how good he looked in his half-buttoned linen shirt.

That’s when he suddenly froze, his head tilting to the side. He pointed upward. The music—some cheesy, dramatic Pavarotti knockoff that these Italian dives play to try and appear authentic. Then he smiled, clapping a hand over his mouth.

“What?” I asked, already laughing at whatever dumb thing he was about to say.

“Oh my God.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. No way.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.” I smacked his arm—rock solid.

He paused and sighed. “Okay, but promise me you won’t laugh.” He leaned in with a straight face that had me eagerly anticipating another highly entertaining Mangione story.

“I promise,” I lied.

“Alright.” He looked around, then leaned in conspiratorially. I was melting for this man. Every moment with him felt important, filled with meaning. He could have said anything, and I’d lap it up like a dog. “So,” he started, rubbing his face like he was already regretting this.

“My mom used to play these mix CDs on the stereo at home. Pavarotti, Bocelli, all the classics, right? She’d be cooking, cleaning, just vibing to these… love songs.”

“Sure,” I said. Totally normal so far.

“But this song”—he pointed upwards again to the song playing on the patio speakers—“‘O Sole Mio,’ a total guilty pleasure for her. When it came on, she would lose her mind. Singing, swaying, dancing. And eight-year-old me sat there watching her, thinking, This must be the greatest song in the history of songs. So, Mother’s Day comes around…”

At this point, Luigi paused, biting his lip like he wasn’t sure he should continue. I couldn’t help the smile that possessed my face.

“Oh my God, Lu, what did you do?”

He waved me off, reaching for his wine. “No, nah, I can’t—”

“Finish the story, Luigi.”

“Fine.” He threw his hands up. “I learned the song. Like, the whole song, okay? I watched every Pavarotti performance on YouTube at the time. Memorized the lyrics. Practiced in front of the mirror. And on Mother’s Day, I performed it for her.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. For her, my family, my cousins, neighbors. I’m pretty sure Pavarotti himself has sung for smaller audiences.”

I lost it. “You did not…” I said, breathless already. The image of little eight-year-old Luigi in my head, filled with love for his mama, singing an Italian love song in complete earnestness, was too hysterical to keep contained.

“I did,” he admitted. The music swelled in the restaurant, hitting that classic over-the-top crescendo, and Luigi—my God, this man—pushed back his chair and stood up.

“And now…” He slapped his hand on his puffed-up chest and lifted his chin.

“Luigi, NO.”

“I will sing it for you.”

And let me tell you, it was terrible.

He was hamming it up like some kind of opera drunk on karaoke night, his voice all over the place but somehow still deeply passionate, like he was singing to save Italy itself. People in the restaurant were staring. I was just as mortified as I was captivated. Tears were streaming down my face. Dying. And he didn’t stop. He didn’t care. He kept going—arms gesturing wildly, every crescendo perfectly wrong—and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

When he hit the final note—“O SOOOOLEEEEEE MIIIIOOOOOOO!”—he threw out his arms in a dramatic flourish, like he was expecting roses to rain down from the sky. I clapped so hard my palms hurt.

When he finished, he bowed. One or two other patrons gave half-hearted claps, probably just impressed by his dedication to the bit. His cheeks and ears were a delicious shade of pink, his smile lighting up his face as he moved his chair closer to me.

“You’re too much, Luigi,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes.

He finally sat down, our knees touching. He leaned towards me, and suddenly I was his only audience. “Do you know what the song means?” His voice was soft, so only I could hear. There was a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there before.

I shook my head.

“Okay, ‘O Sole Mio’—it means ‘My Sunshine.’ It’s about… someone being the light of your life. Like…” He shifted his weight, trying to find the words. “Like even the sun itself can’t hold a candle to the person you love.”

He ran a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed by the intensity, but too caught up in the moment to stop himself. “It’s like the artist was saying, ‘The world is so much brighter with you in it.’ The guy is completely wrecked over how beautiful life is because of this one person... you know?”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, gauging if any of this was resonating with me at all. His goofy bravado had melted into something almost painfully genuine and sincere.

This was real for him.

“I do know, Lu,” I said quietly.

He leaned back, taking his wine. He shrugged. “And that’s why I sang it for my mom.” He tried to downplay it, but I saw right through him. “Because she’s always been my sunshine. Always will be.”

My breath caught in my throat at that.

Then, he must have realized he’d gone too far into the serious zone. He snapped back to being playful. “Anyway, I fucking nailed that performance on Mother’s Day, and everyone talked about it for weeks after.”

I don’t know if he realized what he was doing to me. The lights sparkled brighter. The air tasted sweeter. And my heart was warmer. Because he was here. He was insane, but I wouldn't have him any other way.

The song made perfect sense. Life is a gift with you.

~~~

What a beautiful thing is a sunny day.

But another sun, even more beauteous, oh my sweetheart, My own sun, shines from your face This sun, my own sun, Shines from your face; It shines from your face

[wander-wren]

to be clear i don’t have a problem really with stories where the main character is already a writer and it’s just a background element, especially when the book is not portrayed as this Big Healing Accomplishment. i like stories with writers in them!

but this specific version of the trope just screams middle school to me. it is the kind of thing i wrote in middle school. ugh. the frame story where all along the book you’re reading was written by the protag about their life…..awful. awful!

and yes i know this happens irl, actually quite often. i know MANY people want to write their own memoir (i was one of them). it’s just so cheap as a trope.

especially ESPECIALLY when publishing is such a brutal industry and i am/am friends with people who have tried and failed to break into it, some several times, and it’s just….it feels bad. when stories like this make that process seem easy and hardly worth commenting on. which it can be, if you’re the right person with the right book at the right moment for the industry—or you’re rich with connections.

maybe i’m just jealous of fictional characters. but i still hate this trope

there is one book/fanfic trope i irrationally hate, HATE, with a burning, seething passion, and it makes me feel bad but i have DNF’d over it and i have finished reading fics with half the enthusiasm, grumbling internally over this dumb stupid awful thing they added in

anyway it’s when the protagonist decides to ✨write a book about their trauma✨

its usually a memoir or some such about their experiences (weirdly common: therapist or close friend suggests journaling to cope, journal becomes novel), but sometimes it’s like, a kid’s book loosely based on their experience, etc etc, its always a book about their trauma and i want to rip my hair out

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i reminded our professor of a test nobody studied for?

I'm F20, in art academy along with other 20 year olds (around 11 of us). Our professor assigned us, at the start of the semester, to do a hefty amount of sketches that will be graded (among other assignments that are irrelevant here).

I am the top student and i have perfect grades, i take this career seriously while most others are here just bc they didnt know what other degree to get (college is cheap here). they slack off and do the bare minimum.

our proffessor is, whats the english word.. a bit lost. i wouldnt be surprised if she forgot about the sketches she asigned to us by the time its grading time (in february). im afraid nobody will do them but me and that they'll make a deal that we should all keep our mouth shut and hope she forgets.

it feels like a dick move to remind her just bc i want her to grade mine. but they are adults, they knew about the sketches they need to do, and chose not to. why should i hide my hard work and have it go to waste to cover for them?

WIBTA if i reminded her if she forgets?

What are these acronyms?

[rockstvrdotcom]

"show me how sorry you really are." // hobie x fem reader nsfw

THIS ISNT THE HATEFUCK

hobies kinda harsh in this :( disclaimer i do not believe he is a toxic bf this is for the sake of the ff okay?

cw/tw: angst sorta not rlly, nsfw, throatfucking, slight dubcon? not rlly there's no spoken consent but theres consent, choking, after care, mentions of alcohol/drinking, degradation

HOBIE BROWN X FEM! READER

skip to cut for smut

you stumbled back into the house at 1 am, drunk but not that drunk— you had snuck out a few hours ago to go party at a club with your friends. you tried to take it light on the alcohol but ended up drinking a bit more than you intended.

you walked blindly in the dark, trying to find your way back to the room before hobie could notice. you steadily walked up to the stairs, almost tripping a few times before you finally took the last step; bumping into what you thought was a wall before your eyes roamed up.

it was hobie, standing there with his arms crossed before grabbing your shirt to make sure you didn't fall down the stairs. he picked you up effortlessly, bringing you to the bed and almost harshly dropping you on it.

"where the hell were you?" he asked, making sure you didn't fall asleep by making you sit upright, patting your cheek a few times. you scanned his body; he was shirtless, wearing grey sweats. the same outfit he was wearing when you both went to 'sleep'.

you proccessed his question for a few seconds before speaking, you knew it'd be better to just be honest with him. ".. at the club, with my friends." you said with your head down.

"really, (y/n)? again?" he said, disappointed as his eyebrows furrowed. you looked away, knowing he was about to scold you.

"i work my ass off day and night, just to keep you safe and you go off to some club without telling me?" he gestured with his hands, anger evident in his voice as he tried to keep his cool.

"i- i'm sorry hobie." you muttered under your breath, looking up at him with genuine guilt.

"sorry would've cut it the first time, but not anymore. this the 5th time." he spoke coldly. his eyes narrowed as he heard the genuine sorry in your voice.

he watched your gaze roam everywhere but him. he grabbed your chin, harshly. "look at me, (y/n). you can't keep fuckin' doing this." he hissed, looking dead in your eyes. you could see his anger written all over his face.

"i won't do it again, i promise." you said, flinching as he took ahold of your chin. he let go, a scowl on his face.

"you promise? you said that the last 3 times," he scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. you watched his eyes scan you, your cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

you were wearing revealing clothes; watching a hint of desire flash through his eyes before he got back to scolding you. "and i know how you get when your drunk! your all flirty and acting like some cheap whore. who knows what you did with other men at the club?!" he blurted out, making tears well up in your eyes.

"i don't know what to do with this anymore. you have to show me that you really mean it this time." he spoke firmly, a hint of a suggestive tone behind it as he grew pent up with anger.

"i think i should sleep on the couch tonight." you murmured, pushing past him as you couldn't bear anymore of his scolding. you neared the door until a web shot out and slammed the door shut. (lets pretend like his webs are organic ok?)

you yelped as the loud noise startle you, not even able to turn around before he pinned you to the door. "nah, love. you don't get to leave– gotta teach you the consequences of your actions." he mumbled right next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

you had no time to respond before he turned you around, picking you up with no struggle and hoisting you onto his hips— looking deep into your eyes before taking your cheeks inbetween his hand and kissing you roughly and passionately; grunting into the kiss when he heard your quiet moan.

"fuck.. don't know what im gonna do with you." he mumbled against your lips, his frustration still obvious in his expression as you felt the growing bulge under his sweats against your clothed pussy; groaning as he grinded up into you.

"h- hobie.." was all you could muster out before he shushed you with another kiss, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth.

both of your tongues danced with eachother, his hand moving to ride your dress up your thigh, your panties and the wet spot in the middle on full display as the breeze from the open window made you shiver.

"show me how sorry you really are, yeah?" he broke the kiss, mumbling into your ear as he kept you up with one hand, the other moving to take his pants and boxers off just enough so his dick popped out, slapping against his stomach and revealing his hard cock; precum leaking from his tip.

you nodded in response, pushing your panties aside and looking at him expectantly.

"nah, ill let you do all the work since you wanna go and sneak out on me." he said spitefully, letting you down and off the door as he walked over to the bed, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"c'mere, slut." he spoke, spreading his legs; patting his thigh and waiting impatiently for you to get between them and suck him off.

he watched you walk over just like he told you to. getting on your knees and inbetween his legs just like he told you to. you admired his cock for a second; leaving little kitty licks and soft kisses despite the way he had his hand tangled roughly in your hair, tugging harshly as a way of telling you to get to it.

after what seemed like forever to him, you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, slowly lowering yourself onto him.

you felt his hand grip your head before making you take all of him in your mouth; gagging on his cock as he slid into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat.

before you even had time to adjust— he was ramming his hips up and into your face, watching your eyes roll back as you choke on his cock.

"fuck.. such a good whore for me, yeah?" he groaned in between pants, the sight almost making him cum deep in your throat. he continued thrusting his hips up, chuckling as you moaned around his cock.

you felt him twitch inside of your mouth as he let go of your hair, letting you do the work for now. you bobbed up and down on his dick; throat already sore as you rested your hands on his thighs.

"fuck yeah.. your throat feels almost as good as your pussy." he mumbled, his hips twitching up and making you gag again. the way your throat constricted around him made him so fucking horny; his orgasm nearing.

"hurry it up, yeah?" he moaned out, starting to buck his hips up into your mouth again. your saliva coated his cock, your nose bumping against his pelvis with each thrust.

"shit, c- cumming." he said, slapping a hand over his mouth as his head rolled back, thrusting up into your mouth one more time before pulling out and coming all over your tits.

he stood between your legs as you sat comfortably on the bathroom counter, handing you a glass of water. "drink up, doll." he said, holding it up to your lips as you drank in large gulps, wincing at the stinging pain in your throat.

he rubbed your back, kissing your forehead. "i'm sorry for being so rough, darlin. but promise me you won't sneak out again, bring me next time." he said, rubbing your back as he cleaned your face with a warm towel.

"i'm sorry, hobes." you said apologetically, kissing him softly on the lips as you placed the glass of water down.

he nodded in response, turning the bath on and turning the water to warm. he walked back over to you, carefully pulling your dress off, along with your bra and panties.

"hop in, love."

sorry if this was lazy </33 getting back into writing tho so send requests!!

[nats-revival]

Jealous and possessive abby - not in a toxic or abusive way but maybe you guys went to a party and your ex or some random decided to act up and be crazy and start hitting on you when everyone knows you're hers so she starts getting protective and marking her territory - she never blames you for it but she just wants to remind you who you belong to so she feels better with your consent if course and you find it hot asf

𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

tags: alcohol consumption, mild language, theres a gross man, abby is possessive (per the request), i think that should be everything???, i still stuck at tagging

a/n: was lowkey stuck on this prompt bc i don’t remember the last time i did smth like this but also, i procrastinated like, a lot. tbh i don’t rlly ever proofread anything i write i just post it with a hope and a prayer but wtv! i hope yall enjoy this. 🤍😙😙

bodies filled the house you and abby were currently in. the air smelled like alcohol, sweat, and a mixture of cologne and cheap perfume. this wasn’t particularly your scene, but abby wanted to go since one of her friends were hosting the party. you sorta stood on the wall, nursing a cup of.. something abby mixed for you. she wanted to prepare your drink herself. yknow, cause people are weird and like dropping shit in your drink without your knowledge. the screen of your phone illuminates your features softly under the red and purple LED lights. nobody dared to bother you much because everyone knew you were abbys girl. god, she never shuts up about you! but it’s only because she loves you so much. she also did it because she wanted to make your relationship known, and she’d gladly knock the lights out of anyone who dared to approach you cause she didn’t play that game.

the necklace around your neck had her initial on it. she’d gifted it to you during valentines day last year. it glints a little from the light coming from the screen of your phone. you’d been mid sip when some piss drunk man came stumbling over to you. and suddenly your settings app looked interesting as hell! he stops infront of you with a woozy smile and a flushed face from drinking. lowkey, he was like, really ugly. he’s the kind of guy a girl would only fuck in the dark. “what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” he asked as he looked you up and down with obviously lustful eyes. “ah, im.. actually not alone. im here with someone.” you say as you give him an awkward smile and a chuckle. “i don’t see ‘em. why dontcha come with me? we could go back ‘t my place.. maybe order somethin’ to eat.” you politely decline and give him another awkward smile. while trying to ward this man off, you text abby.

“theres some guy over here flirting w/ me, help!!” you text her while trying as much as possible to ignore the man. he was relentless! he just wouldn’t stop talking and making gross comments. you look up from your phone to find your girlfriend pushing her way to you, through the couples grinding against eachother and making out. she smiles as she approaches you, then wrapping her arm around your shoulders. you lean against her. “so, who’re you?” she asks as she looks at the man, then tossing him an icy glare. “who am i? why should i answer you?” the man had a raised eyebrow and he’d been holding a now empty cup. “well, cause you’re hitting on my girl. so you should probably tell me why you’re doing all this.” her voice was low, raspy and a bit threatening. her possessiveness was dumb attractive, and you surely felt a little hot!!! “hah, this is your girl? she’s outta your league, bro. just give ‘er up. ill treat ‘er soo much better.” the man had become bold. abby didn’t like that. “mm.. nah. she’s fine with me. aren’t you, baby?” she asks as she looks at you. you nod with a small, stupid smile on your face. she presses a kiss on your forehead before she looks back at the man.

her touch had lingered on your skin even when you knew she wasn’t touching you. she sits on one of the chairs with a sigh and you sit next to her. “god, people are so disgusting!” abby said as she lets out an exasperated sigh. she hated when people treated you that way. but you just couldn’t seem to forget that voice she spoke in. the raspiness made this sorta electricity shoot through your veins. she was rambling about something, but you’d began listening when she’d been nearly finished speaking “—that shit wasn’t okay, and nobody should be treating my girl like that. i mean, gosh, some people just really can’t take a hint can they? i was so close to punching him just like id done that other guy but i controlled myself. and, ill just say, it isn’t your fault. i just really don’t like that. you don’t deserve that. not at all.” her voice softens towards the end of her sentence as she places her hand on your thigh gently.

your hand finds itself over hers and you smile at her. “sometimes you gotta punch people for ‘em to understand, yknow?” abby says as she looked at you with the same softened gaze. “abby, no, i will absolutely not be punching anyone… that’s what i have you for. and you hit like, waaaaay harder.” you chuckled. “well, maybe i should show you how to hit real hard.” you shrug, and she smiles at you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “how bout we get outta this shithole?” she suggested with a smile. “oh, yeah. let’s go. im literally starving!” the both of you nod as you begin walking off the porch. as you walk to the sidewalk, the guy from earlier comes running and stumbling out of the house. he was after abby. you noticed and alerted her. “oh shit, we’d better run!” she grabs your hand and the both of you run to her car, giggling and looking back at the man (whos running slow as a snail) and forward at her car.

[l0starl]

☆ Arcade ୨୧ 彡

Summary : You and miles go to the arcade and eat!(Yes that’s it 💀it sounded better in my head)

Participants: Miles (42)

Warnings : cursing, (one Popeyes and kfc joke 😭) W/c : 334

Yall im sorry for the kfc and Popeyes it was funnier in my head ok 😭

You and Miles lately drifted off, whether it’s school or extra academic stuff. But no matter what, you always try and make time with each other. And here you are playing arcade games with him. 

“DAMN! Just let me win one time Miles!” You shouted while fidgeting with the control buttons.

“NAH! I’m gonna make you lose for the 5th time!” Miles snickered as he mashed multiple combo moves

You scoffed pressing all the buttons with the remaining energy you had. You knew Miles was competitive but he could at least take it easy. But then an idea popped into your head! Maybe you can distract him for a bit so you can get a combo move.

So you repeatedly make snarky remarks just to catch him off guard, and you quickly make your move with a 3-point Combo!

“That’s a cheap move guapa! That ain’t fair” Miles groaned.

“Miles you won 2-5! I think five is enough for you” you snickered. “Anyways can we go eat now? I’ve worked myself up an appetite!” You sighed.

“Alright, let’s go real quick” Miles motioned you to follow as you both made it out of the arcade to the food court.

“Where you wanna eat? Popeyes?” Miles spoke walking quicker than usual.

“Why you wanna eat Popeyes so bad? What’s next KFC?” You sneered

“Alright you need to chill out, always saying something out of pocket” Miles chuckled under his breath.

“Let's just go eat somewhere!!” You took his hand as your fingers intertwined with his. You spotted an eye-catching meal in one of the food courts. You ordered an Oreo frappe and a large meal, miles also ordered a large meal with a coke to go with.

You both sat down near a window and of course, dug in.

“Man that shit was good” you sighed, finishing your drink.

“One more game?” Miles challenged with a grin

“You bet! I’m gonna wipe the floor with you” you laughed as you both raced to the arcade

[butchersboobs]

Foxie, Becks and Butcher, Too

A Billy Butcher POV fic

'The course of true love never did run smooth' - as Billy Butcher's about to find out...

This story is based on several Butcher-yapping sessions I've had with the absolute legend @vulgarcupcake, whom I bloody adore.

⚠️ Smut below the cut, along with all the dark shit to be expected from a fic set in 'The Boys' universe - MDNI

-----

Seedy don’t even begin t'describe this fuckin’ shit'ole. 

Stinks o’stale beer, cheap aftershave an’ desperation. The kinda joint where the bouncers are too busy floggin' crack t'stop the strippers gettin' mauled by punters. 

But filf festers in places like this, so ‘ere I am - tryna find this fuckin’ z-list supe ‘oo claims ‘e knows summink that’d take them Vought cunts down f’good.

I lean against the sticky bar, scannin’ the room, when the lights dim and ‘Thunderstruck’ starts blastin’ frew the speakers - just about loud enuff t'make me fuckin’ ears bleed. The crowd shifts, all eyes look to the stage, and me - well, I turn t’look, too, more out of ‘abit than any real interest. 

But then I see ‘em.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

Two o’the most stunnin’ birds I’ve ever clapped eyes on, movin’ abou’ like they own the fuckin’ place. 

One’s a tiny fing, platinum blonde ‘air wiv these black streaks frew the ends, all sass and wicked smirks. Looks like she’d eat ya alive an' laugh while she's doin’ it. The uvver one- fuck me - she’s got curves that’d make a priest reconsider ‘is vows, a dark red pixie cut and these sultry eyes that flick over the crowd like she’s tryna choose ‘er next victim.

They strut t'the front o’ the stage as the beat kicks in, ‘ips swayin’ in sync, tits 'n arse cheeks bouncin’ about - the ‘ole fuckin’ rooms vibratin’ off their energy.

The blonde grabs the pole, spins ‘erself round so smoove, it’s like she’s weightless, then drops low, archin’ ‘er back jus’ right. The red’ead stalks forward, slow 'n deliberate, lockin’ eyes wiv some poor sod in the front row who's probly jus’ shot ‘is load in ‘is fuckin’ trousers.

I should be finkin’ 'bout me mission - the scumbag I’m sposed t’be huntin’ down, but all I can do is stare. Me mowf’s gone dry, me ‘ands tight on me glass, an’ f’the first time in fuck knows ‘ow long, I’m bloody mesmerised.

Then, just as that screechin’ guitar solo ‘its, the red’ead flicks ‘er gaze my way - looks right at me - an’ whips ‘er top off.

And fuck me if I don’t feel like I’m the one bein’ hunted now.

Then it ‘appens.

Some fat-fingered, lairy twat in a cheap suit - some banker or city prick, no doubt - gets it in ‘is ‘ead that ‘is front row seat means 'e can do more than just look’. ‘E reaches up, grabs an ‘andful o’the blonde’s arse like e’s paid for it.

Big. Fuckin’. Mistake.

Before I can even set me drink down, she swings round and chins the cunt. No ‘esitation, no messin’ - just a straight-up, solid fuckin’ right ‘ook to ‘is jaw. The crack of it’s fuckin’ beautiful. Prick goes down like a sack o’spuds, clutchin’ ‘is face, shock all over ‘is punchable gob.

Then ‘is mate - annuver greasy-lookin' wanker - jumps up from ‘is seat, all puffed up, actin’ like e’s about t’do summink about it. But before ‘e can even open ‘is gob, the red’ead’s there.

She don’t just step in - nah -she fuckin' flies. Legs 'round ‘is waist, fists in ‘is hair, draggin' ‘im down t'the floor like some feral fuckin’ cat. E’s too busy shriekin’ n flailin’ t'fight back. The bouncers finally decide to earn their fuckin’ pay, 'aulin’ the two twats off while the rest o’the room cheers like they just watched the main event at a fuckin’ boxing match.

I just lean back against the bar, chucklin’ to meself.

Fink I might 'ave t'come 'ere more often.

A minute later, the scent of vanilla and a bit o’violence ‘its me, and I don’ even ‘ave to look t’know oo’s just walked up. One on eiver side o’me. The blonde perches ‘erself against the bar to me right, knuckles still red, lips curled in satisfaction. The red’ead slinks up on me left, smug as fuck, shakin’ out ‘er ‘ands like she ain't just flattened some city wanker in record time.

They both signal the bartender at the same time. “Five shots,” they say, almost in sync.

Five? Each?

The drinks are lined up in seconds, and before I can even make a smart-arsed remark, they grab their glasses and knock ‘em back like it’s fuckin’ water.

I watch, properly fuckin’ transfixed, as they down every last drop. Neiver of ‘em even winces.

The blonde slams ‘er last glass down, licks ‘er lips, then glances up at me.

The red’ead does the same, then tilts ‘er ‘ead, lookin’ me up and down like she’s measurin’ me up.

I exhale slow, grinnin’.

“Evenin’, ladies,” I say, all smoove like, before downin’ me own drink. 

“Crackin' show, that…”

I glance between ‘em, still fuckin’ reelin’ from what I just witnessed. Ain’t often ya see a couple o’strippers deck two pricks. These are definitely the kinda gells oo’d eat a bloke alive and not even leave the bones.

I huff a laugh, leanin’ on the bar. “I’d offer to buy you boaf a drink, but summink’ tells me if I said the wrong fing, you’d rip me fuckin’ bollocks off.”

The blonde barks out a proper, froaty laugh, smirkin’ up at me, eyes glintin’. “You wish…” she purrs, flickin’ a bit of ‘er bloody gorgeous ‘air over ‘er shoulder.

The red’ead just grins slow, proper dangerous-like, and steps in closer - right into me space. She tilts ‘er head, eyes gleamin’ under the neon lights. “When I get my hands on your bollocks,” she murmurs - 'n fuck me, she's a Brit, “it won’t be to rip ‘em off.”

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

I swallow ‘ard, heat shootin’ straight t'me cock. I ain’t a nervous bloke - don’t get rattled easy - but fuck me if that didn’t just knock the wind right outta me sails. She knows exactly what she’s doin’, the little minx. And the blonde? She’s watchin’ it all wiv a knowing look, like she’s waitin’ to see if I’ll crumble.

Not a fuckin’ chance.

I grin, signal to the bartender. “Right then. Let’s get some more shots in, shall we?”

Few minutes later, we’ve got fresh drinks in ‘and, and I’m feelin’ the warm buzz o’whiskey makin’ its way frew me system. I clink me glass against theirs, eyes flickin’ between ‘em. “So, what do I call you, then? Or am I just gonna keep thinkin’ of ya as the two sexiest fuckin’ women I’ve ever seen in me life?”

The blonde chuckles, rollin’ ‘er eyes. “Foxie,” she says, tappin’ ‘er shot glass against mine before knockin’ it back like a pro. Fuck me. She's fuckin’ foxy alright.

“Becks,” the red'ead says, voice like warm fuckin’ honey.

Foxie ‘n Becks.

I roll their names over in me ‘ead, takin’ anuvver slow sip o’whiskey. Two of ‘em, right ‘ere, pressin’ in close, flirtin’ back just as ‘ard as I’m throwin’ it. And me? I’m in fuckin’ turmoil.

Because I genuinely can’t choose which one I want most.

Foxie’s all wicked grins and flirty, she's absolutely stunnin’ and is definitely trouble - a tiny little firecracker oo’d probly set me ‘ole life alight just for the fun o'watchin’ it burn. Becks is pure filf, wiv the most crackin’ set o'tits I've ever seen and a mouth that could fuckin’ talk a bloke into - or out of - anyfin.

I wan‘em boaf.

And if I ain't mistaken, they boaf fuckin’ know it.

-----

The booze is flowin’, the flirtin’s gettin’ filfier, and I’m ‘avin’ the best fuckin’ night I’ve ‘ad in years. Foxie’s perched on me right, leanin’ in every time she laughs, ‘er little ‘and on me arm, eyes flashin’ like she knows exactly ‘ow much trouble she is. Becks is on me left, battin’ 'er eyelashes and touchin’ me up, ‘er voice drippin’ wiv suggestion every time she opens that wicked mowf. I’d be lyin’ if I said I weren’t absolutely fuckin’ smitten - an’ absolutely fuckin’ torn.

An hour’s gone by in a blur o’whiskey, teasin’, and them takin’ turns windin’ me up so bad I can barely fink straight. The club’s windin’ down now, punters stumblin’ out into the night, and it’s clear as fuck where this is ‘eaded. They boaf want me. Boaf of ‘em. And I, in all me years of chasin’ skirt, ‘ave never been in such a fuckin’ predicament.

I push back from the bar, stretchin’ me arms over me ‘ead. “Right,” I say, grinnin’. “I need a slash. But when I get back, you two are gonna have to play Rock, Paper, Scissors over me or somethin’, ‘cause I ain’t got a fuckin’ clue ‘ow to pick between ya.”

Foxie just giggles, downin’ the last of ‘er drink. Becks smirks over the rim of ‘ers, archin’ a single, perfict brow.

I ‘ead off to the bogs, splash a bit o’ cold water on me face, and stare at meself in the mirror. Jesus, Butcher. What the fuck are you doin’?

I know EXACTLY what I’m doin'.

When I step back out into the club, they’re still at the bar, standin’ close, talkin’ low between ‘emselves. Their eyes flick up to me at the same time, and summink about the way they’re lookin’ at me makes the ‘airs on the back o’me neck stand up.

Foxie tilts ‘er head, smilin’ as she taps a finger against ‘er lips. “So, Butcher…”

Becks leans in, voice all warm and velvety. “What if…” She lets it ‘ang there, just for a second, before she grins.

Foxie finishes for ‘er. “You didn’t have to choose?”

I fuckin’ freeze.

And then, very fuckin’ slowly, a grin spreads across me face.

“Ladies,” I murmur, steppin’ closer, lettin’ me gaze flick between ‘em. “I fink I just ‘ad the best piss o’me fuckin’ life.”

Foxie ‘olds up ‘er ‘and, ‘er smirk widenin’. “Hold on a minute, big boy.”

Becks leans in, mirrorin’ ‘er, and I swear I’ve never been more fuckin’ eager to ‘ear what’s comin’ next.

“Just so we’re clear,” Foxie purrs, eyes glintin’ wicked, “we come as a pair, yeah, but not in the way you’re thinkin’.”

Becks tilts ‘er head, trailin’ a finger along the rim of ‘er empty glass. “You can have us both,” she murmurs, “but not at the same time.”

Foxie leans in close, ‘er breath warm against me ear. “We’ll share you. No questions asked. No jealousy, no moanin’, no nagging…”

Becks’ lips brush against me ear as she whispers. “The best of both worlds.”

I stare at ‘em, flickin’ me gaze between the two, and for the first time ever, I’m speechless. Two of the most stunnin’, dangerous, sexy birds I’ve ever laid eyes on, and they’re offerin’ me a fuckin’ dream scenario.

I let out a low chuckle, shakin’ me ‘ead. “This night,” I murmur, grinnin’ like the bastard I am, “just keeps gettin’ better.”

-----

We stumble into mine, the door barely clickin’ shut before the gells make ‘emselves at ‘ome like they’ve been ‘ere a hundred times before. Foxie kicks off ‘er ‘eels, stretchin’ like a cat, while Becks flops onto me couch, arms drapin’ over the back like she owns the fuckin’ fing. It’s a sight, I tell ya - the pair of ‘em loungin’ round me gaff like they belong ‘ere. 

I could definitely get used to this.

I grab a bottle o’whiskey, pour three glasses, then drop meself onto the couch right between ‘em. They don’t waste a bloody second - Foxie leans into me right side, ‘er little fingers trailin’ up me arm, while Becks presses in close on the left, ‘er thigh warm against mine. I take a slow sip, feelin’ proper fuckin’ smug.

“So,” I say, “right. ‘Ow’s this gonna work then?”

They share a look, Foxie’s lips twitchin’, Becks’ smile filfy as ever.

“You choose,” Foxie says simply, eyes dark and glintin’. “Whoever you want tonight. No hard feelings.”

Becks nods, draggin’ ‘er fingers slow over me knee. “We promised, didn’t we? No jealousy, no drama.”

I glance between ‘em, then huff out a laugh. “Oh, bollocks to that. I ain’t gonna choose.”

I dig in me pocket, pull out a coin, an’ ‘old it up between me fingers. “‘Eds, Foxie. Tails, Becks.”

They watch, amused, as I flip the bastard. The coin spins in the air, catchin’ the light, and when it lands on me palm, I flip it over t'the back o’me uvver 'and.

'Eads it is.

Foxie grins, triumphant, while Becks just chuckles, stretchin’ ‘er arms over ‘er ‘ed like she ain’t got a care in the world.

“Right then,” I say, pushin’ meself up. “Let’s get you sorted, love.”

I grab a pillow and blanket from me cupboard, tossin’ ‘em onto the couch. “Comfy as fuck, that couch,” I tell Becks, watchin’ as she flops down like she’s testin’ it out.

Before I turn t’leave, I crouch down, catch ‘er chin between me fingers, and press a slow, deep kiss to ‘er lips. She hums against me mouth, all warm an’ lazy, and when I pull back, I let a low growl rumble from me throat.

“Night, love,” I tell ‘er.

Foxie grabs me ‘and, tuggin’ me towards me bedroom, but Becks just grins up at me from the couch.

“Night, Butcher, night Fox - don't break him!” she says, only ‘alf jokin’. Fuck - what ‘ave I let meself in for?

And wiv that, me and Foxie disappear into me bedroom, leavin’ Becks stretched out, smilin’ to ‘erself, like she already knows ‘er turn’ll come soon enough.

-----

As soon as the bedroom door clicks shut, Foxie’s on me like a fuckin’ wildfire, pressin’ me back against it, ‘er li'le ‘ands already slidin’ up me chest. She’s tiny, barely comes up to me chin, but Christ, the way she moves - like she’s already got me figured out, already knows exactly what she’s doin’ to me.

I let out a low chuckle, thumbin’ a strand of ‘er platinum hair, feelin’ the silky softness between me fingers. “You’re a right little menace, ain’t ya?”

She grins up at me, all teeth and trouble. “You love it.”

She ain’t wrong.

I grab ‘er waist, pullin’ ‘er in flush, feelin’ the heat of her pressed against me. It’s been a long fuckin’ time since I’ve ‘ad a woman like this - one that’s all confidence, no ‘esitation, knows exactly what she wants and ain’t afraid t’take it. And fuck me, does she take it.

Her mowf’s on mine before I can fink, kissin’ me like she means to fuckin’ ruin me, ‘er ‘ands slidin’ up into me hair, tuggin’ just enough to make me groan into ‘er lips. She tastes like whisky an’ trouble, and bollocks, I’m in deep.

Me fingers skim under the hem of  er top, findin’ bare, warm skin, and she arches into me, hummin’ against me mouth like she’s already got plans for how this night’s gonna go. I back ‘er up towards the bed, ‘ands roamin’, touchin’, takin’ in every inch of ‘er like I need t’memorise it. Because fuck, I do.

This ain't just a quick fuck - it ain't just about scratchin' an itch. It's sumfin else entirely. Sumfin sharp an’ electric, a proper fizz in the air, like she’s got some kinda spell on me.

And the worst part? I don’t even fuckin’ care.

-----

I wake up to the smell of bacon. Proper thick-cut, none o’that supermarket shite. First thought in me head? Fuck me, I’ve died and gone to ‘eaven.

Foxie’s still sprawled out beside me, ‘air a mess, lips all swollen from last night. I let me fingers drift down ‘er back, lazy ‘n light, but she just grumbles, buryin’ ‘er face in me pillow. Right then - guess I’m flyin’ solo.

I pull on me joggers, drag meself outta bed, and wander into the kitchen, rubbin’ the sleep out me eyes. And there she is - Becks, stood at the stove like she’s done it a thousand fuckin’ times before, ‘air a messy li'le pixie halo, flippin’ bacon wiv the kinda focus usually reserved for bomb disposal.

She clocks me standin’ there and smiles over her shoulder. “Mornin’, Billy.”

I lean against the counter, arms crossin’ over me chest, watchin’ as she plates up eggs, sausages, the works. “You been out?”

“Course,” she says, like it’s the most normal fing in the world. “Figured you’d need proper fuel after last night.”

I huff out a laugh, runnin’ an ‘and frew me ‘air. “You takin’ the piss?”

She grins. “Maybe a little.”

I glance at the spread on the table - bacon crisped up just right, eggs lookin’ golden ‘n runny, black pudding, mushrooms, the fuckin’ lot. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, sinkin’ into a chair. “You tryna make me fall in love with ya?”

Becks just winks, settin’ a mug of tea down in front o’me. “Eat first. Declare undyin’ devotion later.”

Just then, Foxie staggers in, ‘air all over the shop, wearin’ one of me shirts that’s way too big on ‘er, lookin’ sexy as fuck. She lets out a delighted little gasp when she sees the food. “Good ol’ Becks - I'm fucking starving”

Becks just nudges a plate towards her. “Eat up, gorgeous.”

And so we do - three of us sat round me kitchen table, laughin’, nickin’ bits off each other’s plates, like we’ve been doin’ this f’years. It’s fuckin’ weird, in the best way. Easy. Natural.

I sip me tea, lookin’ between ‘em, and shake me ‘ead wiv a smirk. I dunno what the fuck I’ve gotten meself into - but I ain’t complainin’.

-----

I barely make it frew the day. Every time I look at Becks, I’m finkin’ about what’s comin’ later. She knows it, too - the little look she gives me every time I catch ‘er eye, the way she brushes past me, barely fuckin’ touchin’ me, but leavin’ me burnin’ all the same. Foxie clocks it straight away, the smug little cow, an’ she just gives me a wink over ‘er tea and says, “Well, you two are gonna be useless today.”

She ain’t wrong.

By the time night rolls round, I’m climbin’ the fuckin’ walls. Foxie gives Becks a li’le nudge  as she ‘eads off to the couch, tellin’ ‘er to “play nice,” and Becks just laughs, low and husky, shootin’ me a look that damn near finishes me off on the spot.

The second the bedroom door shuts be’ind us, I’ve got ‘er pinned against it, one ‘and tangled in that dark red pixie cut, the uvver already slidin’ down ‘er waist. She lets out a breathy little laugh, all warm an’ wicked, tiltin’ ‘er ‘ead back like she’s invitin’ me to do me worst.

Oh, love, you dunno what you’ve just signed up for.

I kiss ‘er like I mean to wreck ‘er - slow at first, deep an’ teasing, then ‘arder when she makes this little noise in the back of ‘er throat, fists tight in me ‘air. She’s all curves, soft in all the right places, and fuck me, she smells good. Like vanilla and sin.

“Been waitin’ f’this all day,” I mutter against ‘er lips, slidin’ me ‘ands under her shirt, finally gettin’ me ‘ands on them tits. Fuckin’ell - what a pair they are.

She grins, eyes dark wiv mischief. “Oh yeah?” ‘Er fingers tug at me waistband, draggin’ me closer. “Guess we’d better make it worth the wait then.”

Fuckin’ell. I’m gone.

I growl low in me throat, haulin’ ‘er up, and she wraps ‘er legs round me waist like she was made for it. Christ, the feel of ‘er - warm, soft, all smug confidence like she knows she’s got me in the fuckin’ palm of ‘er ‘and. And she does. Oh, she does.

I carry ‘er to the bed, droppin’ ‘er onto the mattress wiv a bounce, and she props ‘erself up on ‘er elbows, lookin’ at me like I’m ‘er next meal.

“Gonna stand there all night, big boy?” she teases, runnin’ ‘er tongue over ‘er bottom lip, an  fuckin’ hell, I nearly lose it.

I climb over ‘er, settlin’ meself between ‘er thighs, lettin’ me weight press  er into the bed, and she shivers, eyes dark as sin. “You’re a proper filthy fucker, you know that?” I mutter against ‘er jaw, kissin’ my way down ‘er neck.

She hums, archin’ up into me, ‘ands slidin’ down towards me cock, sendin’ a thrill right frew me. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Can’t argue wiv that.

I take me time, explorin’ every inch of ‘er, memorisin’ the sounds she makes, the way she moves under me. It’s different from Foxie - where Foxie was all wild energy, Becks is slow, sultry, like she’s enjoyin’ every second, makin’ sure I do too. It’s fuckin’ intoxicatin’.

She rolls us over sudden-like, straddlin’ me wiv a wicked grin, ‘ands pressed to me chest. “My turn,” she murmurs, leanin’ down to kiss me, slow and deep, stealin’ every last bit o’ control I ‘ad left.

I am so fuckin’ done for.

-----

The room’s all warm an’ cozy, tangled sheets and the scent of Becks still clingin’ t me skin. She’s out cold, one arm draped over me stomach, ‘er breff slow an’ steady against me chest. I slip out careful-like, grabbin’ me joggers from the floor, and pad out to the kitchen, needin’ a drink, a smoke, and a fuckin’ minute to get me head straight.

I light up, takin’ a deep drag, lettin’ the smoke curl in me lungs before breavin’ it out slow. The place is silent, just the faint hum of the fridge and the distant rumble of cars outside. It’s peaceful. Almost too peaceful, considerin’ the absolute madness of the last twenty-four hours.

I should be confused, right? I should be sittin’ here, tryin’ t’figure out which one of ‘em I want more, which one’s got me proper. But I ain’t. Cos I can’t fuckin’ choose.

Foxie, wiv ‘er magic li'le mowf. The way she fuckin’ owned me cock and ran ‘er ‘ands all over me like ‘er life depended on it. And Becks, all slow ‘n sensual, makin’ me feel I was summink special just by the way she looked at me. And the way she moaned my name when I first stuck me cock in ‘er. Fuck.

'Ow the fuck am I meant to pick?

And then it ‘its me - I don’t ‘ave to.

I don't want to.

They don’t want me to. 

They’ve already worked it all out, already set the rules, and bollocks if it don’t make perfect sense. I get ‘em both. No jealousy, no moanin’, no drama. Just me and me gells.

I let out a deep breff, then take another drag, a slow smirk spreadin’ across me lips.

Yeah.

This can definitely fuckin’ work.

-----

I dunno exactly when it ‘appened - one minute they were crashin’ at mine now and then, the next, their shit was everywhere - fuckin’ perfumes takin’ over me bathroom, bras ‘angin’ off the back of me chair, and me kitchen permanently stocked with Becks’ dodgy fuckin’ vodka and Foxie’s 900 different types o'soddin’ pasta. Proper fuckin’ nutjobs, the both of ‘em. 

But I wouldn’t change ‘em for the bloody world.

Foxie, me little crybaby, snivels over everyfin. Some daft advert on the telly? Tears. I fuck me fleshligh’ t'teach ‘er a lesson? Waterworks. I barely fuckin’ touch her with a joke punch, and she’s clutchin’ her arm like I just shattered the fuckin’ fing. But she’s got an ‘eart the size o’the fuckin’ moon, and it ain’t just herself she’s cryin’ over - she’s always lookin’ out for Becks ‘n me.

And Becks? Fuckin’ liability, that one. Proper mowfy gobshite, ‘specially when she’s ‘ammered, which is quite a lot. The amount o’times I’ve ‘ad t’drag ‘er away from some poor cunt she’s squared up to, pint in ‘and, swayin’ on ‘er feet but refusin’ to back down. Christ. And yet, some’ow, she always gets away wiv it, flashin’ her fuckin’ cleavage an’ battin’ them big eyes ‘til she’s the bloody victim of the ‘ole situation.

I keep tellin’ ‘em boaf to pack in the strippin’, but do they listen? Do they fuck. So now I’m sneakin’ into the club most nights, nursin’ a whiskey at the back, keepin’ an eye out - just t’make sure no cunt so much as breaves the wrong way near ‘em. They know, o’course - pair o’smug little bitches they are - always sendin’ me cheeky winks from the stage, Becks pushin’ ‘er tits togevver or blowin’ me kisses, Foxie wearin’ them tiny knickers ‘n knee socks she knows I can't resist ‘er in - just t’take the piss.

They’re a mess. But they’re my fuckin’ mess. 

And god ‘elp any cunt ‘oo ever fuckin’ upsets ‘em - cos I'll fuckin’ kill ‘em.

-----

Been fuckin’ burned, ain't we.

I’m fuckin’ dreadin’ this. Not the safe house. Not Vought breavin’ down me neck. Not even the fact me ‘ole life’s just gone up in flames again. Nah, what’s got me sweatin’ is me gells.

‘Cause I ain’t exactly told The Boys about ‘em.

Weren’t ‘iding it, exactly - just never got round t’yappin’ about me domestic situation. ‘Oi, lads, pass the whiskey - and oh, by the way, I’m shaggin’ two gorgeous but absolute nutter strippers. Oh, and they live wiv me…’ didn’t seem like natural conversation. 

But now, I ain’t got a choice - they got nowhere t’live. Turns out they ‘ad t'do a runner from their place after Becks chinned the bloody landlord cos the ‘cheeky cunt’ asked for the seven months’ rent she ‘just forgot’ t’pay.

So - they gotta come wiv me. Cos Christ - they ain't bloody safe t’be left t'fend for ‘emselves.

I glance over at ‘em in the back seat, where they’re pissin’ about like this is some bloody road trip an’ not me worst fuckin’ nightmare. “Right,” I warn ‘em as we set off. “I need you two to fuckin’ be’ave yerselves.”

“Yes, Billy,” they chirp in unison, like butter wouldn't fuckin’ melt.

It crosses me mind that I'd rather just put me foot down ‘n chuck meself out the bloody car door than try t’make this pair listen to a bloody word I say again.

“No - don’t you ‘yes, Billy’ me. I fuckin’ mean it. No windin’ M.M up. No flirtin’ with Frenchie or nickin’ ‘is stash. And for the love of fuck, do not - DO NOT! - get ‘Ughie involved in any of your bullshit.”

Foxie gasps, all fake innocence. “Billy, I’m hurt.”

‘Oi! Jus’ fuckin’’ listen, yeah? An’ don’ be startin’ any shit wiv Starlight or Kimiko, neaver. Do you fuckin ‘ear me?’

Becks smirks, spreadin’ her legs wide open, flashin’ ‘er minge, just t'piss me off a bit more. “C’mon, Butch - we’re angels.”

Angels, my fuckin’ arse.

I know EXACTLY ‘ow this is gonna go. 

And I know - wivout a fuckin’ shadow of a doubt - that I will never ‘ear the end o’this from the lads.

-----

I knew it. I fucking knew it.

From the second I stepped frew that door wiv me gells in tow, I knew it was gonna be absolute fucking carnage. And lo and bloody be’old…

M.M. just stares at ‘em - ‘n goes from nought t'ragin’ in 0.01 seconds. “Butcher,” he says, real slow. “Why the FUCK have you brought two hookers to this safe house?”

I damn near snap me own teef grindin’ ‘em togevver. “Oi - watch yer fuckin’ mowf, M. This is Foxie, ‘n this Becks - they're… well, they're me gells, ain't they.”

‘Ughie, the soft bastard, looks baffled. “Wait - wait… What do you mean, ‘your girls’?” He gestures wildly between me an’ the pair of ‘em, who true t'form are struttin’ ‘round the place like it’s theirs already. “Butcher… are you their fucking pimp?”

Foxie bursts out laughin’, wrappin’ herself round me arm. Becks just cackles.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter, rubbin’ me face. “They’re me birds, alright? We’re -” I wave me ‘and, tryna find the right words.

Foxie hums, lookin’ thoughtful. “I wouldn’t call it dating, exactly.”

“No - I'd describe it as ‘fucking’‘- like - A LOT. A co-habiting fuck-triangle, maybe?” Becks cuts in, all bolshy. “And for the record, m ‘n m or whatever your name is - we’re strippers, actually.” And before I can stop ‘er, she flashes ‘er fuckin’ tits right there in the middle of the room.

‘Ughie looks like ‘es gonna ‘it the deck, and Annie practically dives in front of ‘im, tryna shield ‘is poor fuckin’ innocent eyes.

M.M. looks two seconds from murder. “That’s it. That’s fuckin’ it. We’re all dead.”

Frenchie, on the other hand? Absolutely delighted. “Oh, mon dieu, this is fantastic.” And before I can stop ‘er, Foxie’s climbed into ‘is lap, wrappin’ ‘er arms round ‘is neck an’ startin’ up a bloody lap dance.

Kimiko's takin’ it all in, clearly findin’ the ‘ole fing fuckin’ hilarious. Annie looks like she’d rarver go back to The Seven than stay ‘ere. ‘Ughie's rockin’ back and forth mutterin’ ‘why does this shit keep happening to me’ repeatedly. M.M. - well ‘e looks like ‘e might need a fuckin’ ambulance.

I just sigh, already headin’ f’the whisky. This is me life now.

I've not even left the bloody room before Becks pipes up.

“Skin up then Frenchie, there's a good'un. I’ll rack us up some lines, yeah? Where's your stash, babe? Grab some vodka, Fox. Let's get this party started!”

Foxie cheers. “Fancy another lapdance, French? Where's the stereo? Dry humping's better when music is pumping - that's my motto…”

Frenchie looks like e'd ‘appily 'stay on the run forever.

I don’ even bovver tryna find a glass - m'just gonna neck the ‘ole fuckin’ bottle. 

-----

Tags: @vulgarcupcake @dumpy-little-nobody @bluemerakis @karlurbanism @enchantedflameandflower @jax-the-oregonian @bobabilbil @frank3nfag @bohemianblasphemy @bluecalypso24 @galaxyshifting @jynx15 @lloquent @noonwardmoss @rustanddusted @scrmqwn @scxrchedearf

[pinkpalaceblogs]

How sbsf!chris and bsf!LS met blurb! (?)

Warning! Mentions of underage drinking (dont do this!), cursing, sharing a bed for the first time. Lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i made up a fake school name bc im to lazy to look one up.

November 23rd, 2020 (we are just gonna pretend covid wasn’t a thing)

“Aren’t you supposed to be the older mature one?” You say as you half ass carry your sister out of the long awaited over hyped party thrown by one of the lacrosse boys. “God you fucking reek of cheap vodka” you add letting out a sigh.

“Y/n…. Did… did i ever tell you how much i looooove you!” She exclaims throwing her arms around your shoulders. “Yes many times but your drunk and I need to sneak you in before mom and dad realize im gone too and we both end up grounded.” Turning your sister to her side as you drape one of her arms over your shoulders and wrap ur arm around her waist.

Your struggling to even walk with how drunk she is. She finally takes you both down. “Goddamn lys, your too fucking drunk. You cant even walk straight. You cant go home like this.” You let out a huff brushing your hair out your face. Sitting in the ground contemplating life at this point. Your stuck you dont know what to do.

“Yo lys?! You good?” You hear a guy call out. Looking up you see him. Christopher Sturniolo. Sure you know of him. You know he’s friends with your sister, and some of the girls in your school have hooked up with him, you’ve just never met him in person or spoke to him. That also maybe because you don’t even go to the same school as your sister. You wanted a better education and talked your parents into letting you go to a private school.

Chris leans down and helps her up. It takes your sister a minute but once she realizes its him she lets out an excited squeal wrapping her arms around his neck “CHRIS! Where have you been?! Ive been looking for you all night… oh my god were you with one of your slu- okay kid your talking to much” he cuts her off. He looks over at you raising an eyebrow.

“And who are you?” He asks looking you up and down. “Y/n… Lys’ sister.” You answer bluntly. He looks at you like you have 3 heads. “OH YEA! Chris i forgot to mention it. Like ever but this is my sister y/n! Shes in a private school so shes like never home but shes home for thanksgiving break! And i missed her so much. You little shit why did you leave me here?!” She reaches out to you now crying stumbling causing you both to fall again.

“Fuck!” You yell out as she lands on top of you heads clashing together. “Lys get off of me dude. Cmon get up. You cant go home like this. Fuck am I gonna have to sneak you into grans?” You push her off of you standing up again. This time Chris helping you stand her up straight. “She can stay at my place. She usually does when shes like this. My parents dont mind. They always help make up an excuse when it comes to your mom and dad. You can stay too if you’d like.” He says draping lys’ arm over his shoulder looking at you.

“I dont know… shes like messy drunk… i wouldnt want anything to happen.” You say looking up at him. “Hey shes been to my house worse. She broke my moms favorite vase once. Its okay. You guys can sleep in my bed ill crash with one of my brothers.” He says as he looks around finally he spots a boy that looks just like him? Twin maybe?

“Yo Matt we gotta go. Project get Lys inside before she runs off is a go. I’ll start the car get Nick.” Matt sighs walking over looking at Lys “you really need to lighten up on the alcohol kid.” He says brushing her hair out of her face. “Nick went home already. Something about having to finish his project for the yearbook.” Matt finally looks your way “who’s this? Chris your not bringing a random girl back to- Nah bro its Lys little sister apparently” Chris cuts Matt off.

“Maaaatttttt I missed youuuuuu” Lys says giving the boy a peck on the lips your eyes widen Lys looks at you “y/n… remember the guy that i told you about that ive known for a very long time and thought he was cute and sexy and hot and i wanted to date him. Its Matt. Hes my boyfriend now. Been for like a year now!” She beams over at you grinning ear to ear.

“Ohhhh so your Matt, she talks about you A LOT. Didnt know you were brothers with him.” You say pointing at Chris “let alone twins” you add. They both snicker “Twins? Nah were triplets kid. The other one just went home early.” Chris laughs. Triplets?! “Hate to burst yalls convo but i reallllyyy have to pee and i wanna sleep in matts bed y/n can sleep with Chris!”Lys exclaims.

“Uhm no its okay. Ill just sleep on the couch. Im gonna follow behind you guys in my car.” You say pointing back at your 2018 Chevy Malibu. “No our mom would light us on fire if we let you sleep on the couch. Did you drink? How much? Chris can drive you.” Matt speaks up. “Ive had like 3 seltzers. I should be fine.” You say pulling your keys out of your bag. Chris snatching them out of your hand. “Yea im not letting my best friends little sister drink and drive. C’mon plus its better than driving alone” he shoots you a small grin.

The car ride was silent. The faint sound of pyramids by Frank Ocean playing in the background. “So what private school do you go too?” Chris speaks up breaking the silence. “Oh uhm i go to St. Marias all girls school.” You say as you dig in your bag looking for your phone. “Ahhh thats pretty far. Like a 2 maybe 3 hour drive from here?” He says “wouldn’t you know” you mumble back.

“What did you say?” He says looking over at you “I mean for it to be as far as it is from Somerville you sure do got a rep there.” You say. This time taking your seatbelt off and turning the light on in the car searching for your phone. “So youve heard about me?” He asks. Still looking for your phone you lean into the back over the middle console not really paying attention on how chris gots a full view of your ass.

He takes in a sharp breath looking back towards the road. “I mean its really not that hard to hear about you when all the girls on campus FOUND IT!” You cut yourself off in excitement turning back around and putting your seatbelt back on. “But yea all the girls in campus talk about you.” He lets a little hum. “What do they say?” He asks.

“I mean im sure you know, that your you know good at stuff.” You say scrolling through your phone. “What kinda stuff.” Hes nudging the answer out of you. You know he is. Your not dumb. “Im not answering that. Im sure you have context clues. Unless you’re some brainless jock of a senior.” You say shaking your head looking towards him. He lets out a little laugh.

You guys finally make it home and see that Matt and Lys have already beat you guys there. Heading inside tiptoeing up the stairs you walk into Chris’ room. He grabs a pair of plaid pants and a white tee and hands them to you. “You can change in here ill step out.” He says. “Thanks” you mumble back. After getting dressed you tell him he can come back in.

He grabs a pillow and a blanket off the back of his gaming chair throwing them on the floor. You assumed its for you so you kneel down. “What are you doing?” He says “going to sleep?” You question. “Nah you can sleep on the bed. Ill sleep on the floor.” He says “oh okay” you say getting up and climbing into the bed.

After about 30 mins of hearing Chris huff and puff and stir around on the ground you finally sit up. “Chris. Just sleep in the bed. I dont mind. Its yours anyways” you say. “Are you sure. I dont wanna make you uncomfortable” he says. “Yea just stay on one side ill stay on the other.” You say as you lay back down and turn facing the wall. He crawls in behind you. “Goodnight y/n” he says. “Yea goodnight Chris” you say closing your eyes. Drifting to sleep.

BOW!

I feel like this was very long idk. But update wooooooo.

🏷️: @grace-sturnz , @matts-girlfriend , @courta13 , @r0set0y , @chriss-slutt

[https-florals]

you said, baby, no attachments - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 2k

summary: after a very stupid, very impulsive night with rafe, you make a lot of  questionable decisions.

warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive!!! friends-with-benefits but without the friends, mentions of drinking, cursing, little angst, little fluff.

a/n:  FIRST EVER RAFE FIC!!!!! i have such a massive crush on drew starkey and tbh i’m shocked ive waited this long to write my bae rafe. anywayssss if this doesnt flop lol there may or may not be a pt 2 im working on!!! my plan is for this to have four parts, but that could change and i might condense it. this is based on casual by chappell roan!!

Stupid things have good outcomes all the time. JJ lives by that phrase, and after hearing it for years, it’s rubbed off on you. But apparently, that’s not a good excuse in an argument with him, and here you are, palms sweaty and slipping off your bike handles, repeating the words over and over and over like you’re trying to convince yourself they’re true.

Today’s stupid thing? Responding to a text from none other than Rafe Cameron. Okay, that’s been your stupid thing for about a month.

You had a little thing going with Rafe. It started at a party, a drunk hookup, neither participant quite realizing who the other was until they woke up in bed together. You had practically run from Tannyhill like the house was on fire, only after both of you fought a little, fucked a little more, and then promised never to speak of it again. You had thought that this pact also entailed speaking to each other, but about a week later Rafe caught you at work, smiled at you, and hit you with some stupid line you couldn’t quite remember. Something about being the prettiest girl in the room, which wasn’t exactly hard, considering you were indeed the only girl in the room as you worked the counter at the country club’s pro shop. When he slipped back his signed receipt to you, there were 10 digits scrawled across the bottom below his signature. 

“Rafe, what is this?” you had to ask, tone a mix between a laugh and a sigh. 

He shrugged, and attempted to grab his bag and run out, but you slid the fancy paper bag away from him. “I thought that we said we weren’t gonna talk to each other anymore,” you had stated softly, smiling at the way his cheeks tinted a little pink.

“Nah, I said I didn’t wanna talk about it,” he stressed, “But talking to you is way different.”

You just rolled your eyes and pushed the bag back to him, and he waved you goodbye as he left.

You can count on one hand all the interactions you’ve had with that boy, and that had to be the oddest. Well, maybe not as odd as having sex with him.

A week passed before you texted him. It wasn’t for anything really important, a scolding, if anything. All you did was remind him that again, he can’t just randomly take his shirt off while golfing. It’s a sophisticated establishment, the old ladies complain, blah, blah, blah. His response?

rafe c. - so you’re saying i distract you?

Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what you’re saying.

The situations just get weirder, when the first time the two of you hang out is when you call him for a ride to the grocery store. No one’s at the Chateau, you’re out of gas, and every form of transportation you could possibly steal for a bit is with their respective owners. You doubt you could’ve balanced on JJ’s bike anyways.

The ride is a little awkward, but by the end you feel.. Comfortable. At peace, almost, in the Kook prince’s passenger seat with his hand ghosting over your knee. In the grocery store, it’s painfully obvious Rafe has never been shopping for food in The Cut. He’s wrinkling his nose at the cheap prepackaged salmon you buy, with generic bread crumbs. But then he helps you comb through the bell peppers to find decent ones, and carries your groceries to his truck. He even lets you play whatever you want over the aux.

You’re waking up with him in your bed the next morning, pushing him out the window so no one sees him.

And that’s how it starts, and how it continues- brief text convos, long hangouts, good sex and fake nonchalance. He stays true to what he said, and you don’t talk about it. To anybody. That was the whole thing- it was understood that it was a secret. No strings attached, forbidden kind of kook and pogue relations that would have your friends livid.

So why are you so nervous on this particular evening? Maybe it’s because Rafe let it slip to Sarah that you’re hooking up. Maybe cause Sarah just had to say something to John B, who then told JJ, who then fought with you in front of the entire group. Everyone knows, and everyone is telling you you’re crazy. It’s not something you can handle, so when you see that Rafe asked you to come over, you’re hopping on your bike and speeding to Tannyhill. 

When you get there, you automatically rush into Rafe’s room, a sweaty mess.

He’s laying on his bed, in just boxers as he scrolls on his phone. He jumps when you walk in, setting his phone down quick and standing up like you’re the queen or something.

Your gaze tracks to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on his nightstand, and you groan and fake gag as you flop facedown onto the mattress. 

There’s an almost soundless little intake of air, but you do hear it, and cut Rafe off before he can even speak. 

“I’m not helping you get off!” you declare loudly, and the boy visibly deflates.

“Come on,” he whines, like a little kid not getting his way. “You came in at the perfect time.”

You roll over so he’s in your peripheral vision, and huff. “I’m mad at you.”

He sticks his bottom lip out, a little mocking as he crawls onto the bed beside you. “Awe, what’d I do now?” Rafe lays on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches you. He likes to watch the way his lamp reflects in your eyes, and how you roll your eyes everytime you catch him staring at you. His fingers creep up your side, but you push him off. Oh. You really are mad, he thinks.

“Why would you tell Sarah?” you ask, voice quiet as you stare him down. The apples of his cheeks turn a little pink, and his eyes widen.

“Uh, what did I tell her?” Rafe lies, because he remembers exactly what he said to Sarah, and the way her jaw dropped after he spoke.

“I just- I really like her, Sarah. Forget about the sex and all that shit. When I’m talking to her, it feels like…” He’s stumbling over his words, not quite able to say what he wants. “She’s fresh air, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a room without windows, or some shit.” 

He was never much of a poet. He also remembers the vise-like grip she had on his arm as she told him she would kill him if he ever hurt you. Rafe promised he could never.

But right now he lies, lies and tries to level his voice. He’s a little shocked that you believe him, or at least don’t press the topic further.

“You told her we were sleeping together!” You hiss, lightly smacking him on the side of his head.

He winces, but internally he’s heaving a sigh of relief. He makes a mental note to never get drunk with his sister ever again as you continue to rant. It’s something about the Pogues wanting to kill him (nothing new), along with a couple of jabs about how he’s just the worst, and that he's annoying, and blah, blah, blah. Rafe isn’t really listening, rather just thinking about his stupid decisions. One of which is looking real pretty as she yells at him. Pretty enough to fall in love with. He absentmindedly tucks your hair behind your ear and you instantly exhale, losing your train of thought altogether in record time. It’s like you have the attention span of a damn goldfish around him.

You just groan again, and murmur, “I can’t stand you,” right before you press your lips to his.

Rafe laughs against you, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. “Good thing you’re sitting on top of me then.”

His hands slip under your shirt, and your fingers push through his hair. The calluses on his hands scrape against the soft skin of your stomach and catch on the lace of your bra. Hard hands for daddy’s money, you think. Your fingers tuck against his jawline, cradling his face while his tongue slips against yours, his lips curling up when you make any little noise.

You pull back to catch your breath, and Rafe just stares up at you, kind of punchdrunk.

“Rafe?”

“Mhm?” He reaches up to brush his thumb over your lips.

You’re silent for a second as you think about what you’re about to say. ‘What- What are we doing?”

Rafe’s mouth is parted, and you can’t quite decipher his expression as you watch his eyes flick over your face. He swallows, and says, “Whatever you want.”

You don’t really hear him, and blurt out, “I need this to be casual.”

“Casual?” he repeats.

“Strictly like, sex. No strings attached.”

He sits up, pulling you with him so you’re still on his lap but he’s eye level to you. He’s hard underneath you, but you ignore it as you continue to speak. 

“Okay, just sex. Why?”

It’s actually very hard to ignore, literally and figuratively. Rafe is thinking the same thing when you clear your throat and move a little on him, subconsciously. 

You shrug. “Listen, I don’t have the time for anything more than that. Plus, we know we couldn’t date, like ever.”

He nods, fake-stretching as a means to buck up against you. “And why couldn’t we date?” When you give him an incredulous look, he continues, “Just to play devil’s advocate. Not that I don’t agree with you, cause I totally do. I just wanna know what you’re like, thinking, if we’re on the same wavelength, or whatever…” He trails off, knowing he’s babbling and should stop.

You laugh a little nervously. “Okay, Cameron.” You take a deep breath, and hope that what you’re about to say makes sense. “I have an itch to scratch, and the only thing I want to do is scratch that itch.” You pause to think. “Itch that scratch?”

“You had it right the first time,” Rafe laughs, but the lilt of it is a little annoyed.

“Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’re good at scratching that itch.”

He grins with pride, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and just the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm.

“Really good at scratching that itch,” you exhale a little shaky. “But y’know, I don’t really like you as a person.”

His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. “The fuck? Thanks a lot.”

“You’re an asshole, Rafe. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but come on.” You’re thinking of all the times he’s been an absolute dick to your friends.

He’s thinking about all the things he’d lay down for you. “Not to you.”

Your words evidently sting him a bit, and you go red. You hadn’t really meant to hurt him.

You groan. “You know what I mean. My friends hate you. We just couldn’t work.”

Rafe doesn’t really know what to say. This isn’t really the way he thought this would go, but then again, what did he really expect? Everything is jumbled in his head, and all he wants to do is get high and forget about the conversation. But, even though you basically just told him that he's unlikable, you’re still regrettably pretty, and still on top of him. He grips your hips hard, holding you in place as he rolls against you. “So fuck buddies, but we can’t stand each other?” One hand snakes underneath your shirt to unclip your bra, and he does it faster than you can blink.

“Exactly,” you say somewhere in between both of your shirts coming off. “Just stress relief.”

His hands are hot all over you. There’s a hardness in his gaze that’s so different from the softness of his touch.

“We have to have rules,” you manage to state when you’re shimmying out of your shorts, breathing hard while Rafe toys with the little pink bow on your panties.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

It’s a filler phrase, you think. He must desperate for you to shut up and fuck him, so he’s saying anything. 

He’s still thinking about how he’d do anything for you. Anything.

You still for a second to catch your breath, and say, “No feelings. No staying overnight. And we can’t go anywhere together that we would be seen.”

“Why not?” Rafe groans as your clothed heat slips over him.

“Rafe! People will talk. They’ll think…”

He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. “That we’re fucking? Well, hate to break it to ya, baby, but we kinda already are.”

“And no calling me baby.”

Rafe ignores you and slips his hand between your legs, and you forget that you’re supposed to hate him.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[youuuimeanmee]

SxF Chapter 95 Thoughts

The drought is over.

And HOLY MOLY

AAAAAA I know we're nearing the end-semester gala but I never thought we'd get it on THIS chapter AAAADHJDJSKDN

When I saw the chapter is 21-pages long, I made sure to savor it well sskskjs

"Guardians will not be attending the gala." DAMMIT. Oh wait, Twillight can just disguise himself as a volunteer. I forgot.

Lol this is really not good for Damian's poor little heart.

WOHOO Becky cute!!

Huh, looks like Henry and Martha had a history together. Maybe they used to be classmates in Eden? Or something else, maybe.

The party is different than I expected. I thought ALL students will mingle in one place. I thought we'd meet Demetrius here. Oh well.

Damn this is depressing. Reassignation class based on academic performances. It's really happening. Anya will be separated from Becky. Hopefully their classroom will not be that far off 🥲

Damn Damian. Looking fine there, like a true young chaebol.

ANYA IS CUTE!! She's a princess!! 😭💕 I was surprised with her hair, I thought she'd keep the haircones. It's almost like as long as the little bundle of her hair is protected, any hairstyle is fine. Her dress though... It's darker than I expected; I thought she'd go with light color. But this is fine too. She's cute either way. (lowkey reminds me of a little witch, lol). It's also cute how she and Damian looks matching with black-and-white outfits, hehe. (Then again, this is b&w manga. Will their outfits have different color in the colored illlustration?)

Nicee Ewen, you do know when to give credits when it's due.

Nah Damian you're just making up shit now. You have excellent eyes, you know her dress is not cheap.

Of course Damian would fo anything for any imperial-scholar related. Cute.

Now this is interesting.

Some people say it's a reference to Harry Potter, so I wonder if some of it will turn out to be true. Especially the last two: "the cursed underground maze in section 4" and "the sealed chamber in the tower of wisdom." Sounds like hella suspicious places for a school filled with top political figures in the country. What if those are the places Donovan entered often? Hmmm. *sus glance* Wonder if DamiAnya gang will tackle the 7 mysteries like in Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun and see something they shouldn't see like in Promised Neverland, lol.

Anya, you got this! It's the name you learned in the school's interview! She already forgot, lol. But at least she got the "Ben" right!

Wonder if any of these kids will become Anya's new classmate, lol. Endo really used his break time brainstorming new characters here.

OMG IM DED. Narcis Hubrisse. Brayzen. These fucking fitting names I swear 🤣🤣🤣

Yesss you go Becky. Set your standard high. Don't mingle yourself with these lowly boys.

YAAASS. A GENTLEMAN ASKING ANYA OUT. YOU GO BOY. Even if it's a facade at least it's better than these Hubrisse and Brayzen boys.

OH.MY.GOD. FFFUUUUCKKK AJDNSKDBKDJDJSKHDUDJXNJDKDHDJJSJKSJSJSYEEEESSSSSS

HE'S HEREE HE'S FUCKING HERE. His hairstyle is ugly but HE'S HERE. I was wondering if we're gonna meet him soon. I was righttt, he iss gonna be a recurring character. I mean look at the name reveal from chapter 93. Look at that damn edgy hair. Hopefully he will be Anya's new classmate. But I never thought he'd put an interest in her as a runner-up in the classical language test. What is his background? How is he so good with the classical languange to even reach 90-ish points even though it's rarely taught? Does he have a connection with Anya with his gift in classical language and weird hairstyle? Why does he have such unsettling bow tie? I need to knooww

And he even pull off such a strong reaction from Damian too, skskjsksk. 2nd ML candidate? Lmao

Good to know Arnold's family is B tier. Not bad.

Twillightt you got soft. Letting Anya and Damian do whatever they want? What happen to the mission?

Lowkey sad to see Anya trying hard because Twillight didn't trust she would do a good job in plan B.

Oh mah gahh these preciouss kiddss 😭True homiess 😭😭💕💕

At least this will ensure Anya to get her place fair and square.

I wonder if Twillight realize Anya is approaching Damian for the sake of world peace she mentioned. Or he's simply motivated with Anya's motivation.

But at this rate, the dance will be over the moment Damian got his partner, lmaoo

Great comeback chapter! 🔥🔥🔥

*Edit: Screw what I said that Arnold might be the 2nd ML. I don't trust his hairstyle, his droopy eyes, his bow tie, and his polite manners. So far we've seen only adorable children but he could be evil for all we know. Better be cautious than sorry.*

[4channerguy]

let loose / kunidazai

hayyyy so im just gonna repost this from my ao3 because ive been lacking in tumblr posts lol!! i hope you enjoy :3 xoxo (。・∀・)ノ i used this prompt when writing this: person B tossing snowballs at person A's window, not knowing the window is open and has no screen. also this is probably ooc but idgaf! and also kind of cringe but i also dgaf!

wc: 1057

warnings ✎ : boyfaliures (´･ω･`)  ➜ ┊ pairings: dazai x kunikida

𓂃 ☆ ⋮ doppo kunikida thinks of himself as a precise and sharp man.

he gets a full seven hours of sleep with no distractions, eating a full breakfast precisely at 6 AM, and then meditating. today was his free day off, and all he could think about was doing work. he’d offered fukuzawa to do more paperwork, to discard the load that was on the old man’s shoulders, but he at first declined saying, “you shouldn’t do too much. this day is possibly your only day off.” kunikida only shook his head, pulling his notebook and pointing at it. “i must follow my ideals, sir,” he said firmly. “i must retain the quota of doing seventy-two pages of work.” fukuzawa stared at him for a moment before sighing slightly. He opened his drawer to obtain a tuna can from his secret-stray-cat-stash (SSCS), because it was his free day too. The man didn’t even bother to protest against the golden-blond, and only wished him luck in his assignments.

now at his apartment, kunikida was prepared. he had a neat stack of paperwork with his laptop and of course, his notebook. he adjusted his glasses while gazing out the window. it had snowed last night, with inches of thick snow covering the pathway. since his desk faced the window, decided to open it to at least have some cool breeze in while he worked. it would give me some form of productivity, he thought while also fully opening the window screen as well. He sighed contently, opening his laptop and started typing.

unbeknownst to him, a troublemaker was walking by.

osamu dazai, who just had a typical failed suicide attempt, was mopeing around like a teenager on a winter break, tossing his empty can of tomato juice around his hands. he was thinking about what he wanted for dinner. canned crab probably. with cheap beer. ten cans of beer, maybe. he whistled to himself and then stopped.

he saw kunikida. But, alas, kunikida did not see him. dazai felt his heart skip slightly, seeing him with a furrowed brow working diligently. His glasses were perched on top of his head, which made dazai slightly swoon-

nah. dazai thought. maybe my body is just wired to tease and bother the shit out of him. typical dazai-centric thoughts. dazai crept up towards kunikida’s apartment and started to slowly form a snowball (with his bare hands of course, because he hoped to also catch hypothermia). “KUNIIIIIKIDAAAAAAA!” dazai yelled, which caused kunikida to snap up his head to see the perpetrator. unfortunately, the snowball hit him.

square in the face.

the snowball slowly dripped from his face and onto his desk. dazai only grinned.

“...”

“...surprise?”

kunikida slowly got out of his chair, grabbed his coat, scarf and gloves, put on his snow boots and walked calmly outside where dazai was waiting with a cheshire-like smirk. he took and breath and screamed, “DAAAAAAZAAAAAAIIIII!” he started forming half-assed snowballs and started pelting dazai with him. dazai, on the other hand, was laughing maniacally like a person high on drugs, with a grin reaching his ears. the snow-covered ground became a battle-ground, the two engaging into a chaotic snowball fight. kunikida’s annoyance gradually turned into amusement as he threw, turning uncharacteristically carefree. the two laughed like children on a playground, the chunks of snow glistening, making it look like a hallmark christmas card. to a passerby’s eye, it looked like two grown assed men who were on drugs.

as the snowball fight continued, it got more competitive. kunikida had the sudden urge to outwit dazai, and started to become strategic, hiding behind various things and even building a snow fort. He began a pattern of throwing each snowball while dazai skillfully dodged his attacks and snapped back with his own. in the midst of the laughter, they found a shared joy of letting go of their burdens (well, mostly on kunikida’s part) and embracing the lightness of the moment. kunkida’s mind shifted away from his ideals, and dazai from his future suicide attempts. they just became two individuals enjoying each other’s company in the purest form of fun. Eventually, fatigue caught up to them, leaving their laughter to only breathless chuckles, with fog coming out of their mouth. they stood facing each other covered in snow with comfortable silence. dazai’s grin turned into a warm smile, brushing snow out of his hair. kunikida did the same with his coat.

“you know, kunikida,” dazai began, still trying to get a chunk of snow on his coat. “it’s good to let loose sometimes.” kunikida nodded, cleaning his glasses. “yes, I suppose you’re right,” he paused and cleared his throat, “for once.” dazai only laughed and went towards him, making kunikida hesitant and step back a little. he brushed more snow out of kunikida’s face which caused him to slightly flush. “you’re always being so uptight,” dazai said softly. “you should loosen up more.”

“...well, um, i-”

“also I have a confession to make,” dazai said seriously, which caused kunikida to twitch, making his ears turn red. “since you were (assuming) doing work, could you do…mine?”

“what.”

“okay here me out, so, um, i was busy having-”

“a one night stand,” kunikida interrupted. “or a suicide attempt. or drinking beer and zoning out.”

“...that’s not true! i was fooling around-, no, wait, um, i mean MENTORING, atsushi for his job with kyoka-”

kunikida turned around and started walking away. “H..Hey! Wait, PLEASE KUNIKIDAAA,” dazai went on his knees. “PLEASEEE, I PROMISE I’LL-”

kunikida sighed and stared back at him, his expression unreadable. “i’ll do it for you. but you have to do something, for once.” dazai beamed and dusted off the snow on his pants. “thanks, kunikida.”

awkward silence.

“...i’ll have to get going.” kunikida said, breaking the silence. “hm? oh, yeah.” dazai replied, sort of red-faced. probably the cold. kunikida guessed. “see you tomorrow! we should do this again,” dazai grinned. kunikida nodded.

they both go to their respective apartments, both smiling (kunikida’s almost barely noticeable). kunikida arrived back, taking off his shoes and closing his window for any further cautions. he was about to start his work, but he decided to take a small break, because after all, maybe the troublemaker, osamu dazai, was right.

⋆｡𖦹 °✩ 06.09.23, do not repost or translate my content :^)