#mads' bday bash

[toomuchracket]

Mads it’s me Halla. Can you help a delulu bitch and tell us about b day party Matty celebrating her birthday because…well….you know. I have a friend and it’s her b day and she’s having thoughts.

well halla, your friend ;)) is in luck, because there is actually something in fic form for that <3 here you go!! also there might be some stuff in the mads' bday bash tag you'll enjoy. but generally - you ever seen those tiktoks where the boyfriends are like "if you can fill these baskets in fifteen minutes i'll buy the contents for you" in bookshops? matty does that and then lets you have an extra ten minutes because you're too cute to resist, and then takes you out for the nicest lunch ever. the gift is something thoughtful, maybe a little bit daft, plus a promise to whisk you away for the weekend to be tourists and just relax, accompanied by some beautiful flowers; he just completely dotes on you, even more so than usual, and that's saying something. perfect <3

[tamayokny]

i want to share a very weird dream i once had in honor of gojo satoru’s birthday.

long story short, i was pregnant in my dream world. everyone (mostly the cast of jujutsu kaisen) congratulated me and kept asking me who the father was. however, i was very reserved and secretive, so i wouldn’t reveal the father’s identity. however, gojo was often around and would tease me whilst helping me out. eventually, there were moments where it was just the two of us and we were intimate. not in a sexual way, but we were spending time together. eventually, it dawned onto me that gojo was the father and i was in a relationship with him. the relationship was kept secret for many reasons, but i remember thinking that everyone would be shocked because such a short, sweet, and reserved person was in a relationship and having a child with gojo.

TLDR: i had the weirdest dream where i was in a relationship and expecting a child with gojo satoru.

[pumpkinmich]

hiii queen!! i really love your writing (wow no one is surprised) so i was wondering if i could request something for kiyoko? something very fluff like the moments when she knew she was in love with reader! maybe a scenario or hc (whichever is easier for you!) if you don’t want to do it: it’s okay!! hope you’re having a good day <3

MOMENTS KIYOKO SHIMIZU KNEW SHE WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU (HAPPY BDAY QUEEN!!! <3)

Ft. Kiyoko Shimizu

Warnings: Mentions of scars not related to self harm

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Sorry I waited for her bday because it felt right. This was made with wlw in mind but the language is gender neutral and has no specific body parts (they/them)

It was when she first introduced you to the team and they all loved you so much, you fake consoled Tanaka and Nishinoya about the situation while they were actually really happy for both of you but kept on fake crying and cursing at themselves, you were so serious until you looked at her and a little chuckle escaped your lips, they looked so offended but that only made you laugh harder, and they ended up laughing with you, Tanaka, Nishinoya and Shimizu.

Clear was the love she felt when you kissed the scars on her legs. She doesn’t necessarily feel bad about them but she doesn’t feel good either, kept on pondering the thought about how you were going to react, but knowing that it didn’t dictate her beauty to you made her heart flutter inside her chest and made her feel a little silly for getting insecure over such a little thing.

.

.

.

It was in a cat cafe, when a black kitten approached both of you and there was this silent competition of which one he was going to choose and it went with her, she was ready to show off and rub her victory on her face but you were looking at her with a starstruck gaze, as if you were looking at an angel, her cockiness being replaced with bashfulness, handing the kitten to you.

Happening instinctively before a party, she got dressed but didn’t feel like going at all, you were already dressed waiting for her downstairs and she was in front of the bathroom mirror practicing her points on how you could go alone or maybe she didn’t need to go, and after 15 minutes went to you but all her arguments died on her lips on her last step before meeting your figure. She just mouthed a “Let’s go” and faked a smile. You looked in her eyes, concededly whispering a “Don’t get mad ok? I know we’re already dressed but-” you paused to look away at the floor and gave her the tiniest “can we stay home instead?” and this time looking in her eyes “Please?”.

She never really cared about her birthday, but when she woke up to this sweet smell from the kitchen, ruining your surprise and watching you plan on how to make her day even more special while stuffing your mouth with pancakes got her excitedly wondering how her day was going to be, and the next year, and the next.

When both of you first went to a wedding together, she was so overwhelmed by how promising that was, but didn’t want to scare you off, since you weren’t dating for long, so if it was nothing for you it was nothing for her. She got caught up in her own thoughts and didn’t notice how you were staring at her, when she did notice she was cut off by a “Can we also have white flowers on the tables at our wedding as well?”

It was supposed to be a walk at the park but you said you’d be here and you aren’t. She hears your laughter and tries to follow the direction it came from just to find you playing with a dog and giving the owners second-hand embarrassment over the baby voice you’re using to talk to the dog, it’s really bad. When she teases you for it later you used on her as a joke and she laughed hysterically and every time you use it solidifies in her head how it’s you the one for her.

It was playing on the radio, louder than ever, amazing breakup songs released, sadly, just when you’re in a long healthy and happy relationship; it was inevitable screaming singing the lyrics in the car while waiting for her to finish getting ready, but it was there, running late with her heels on one hand, purse and makeup on another, planning to apply it on the way, but frozen in her tracks watching you scream about how you were cheated on, and your face full of embarrassment noticing you got caught.

She has a strict morning routine and never skips sunscreen before going out. Everyday she tells you not to kiss her face unless you want your mouth full of that sour terrible sunscreen taste and you always peck her lips goodbye. Until you saw her eyes shining over some scene on a movie where the girl gets her hands kissed and you could never have imagined the face she made when you kissed her hand instead the next morning, eyes wide and mouth agape, her breathing fastening and you could hear her heartbeat until she jumped in you, kissing you all over your face senseless. You got covered in sunscreen though.

TAGLIST: @veenxys @sergeant102105

[purrincess-chat]

Under the Moth’s Wing Sneak Peek: Bubbler

I didn’t get around to posting this yesterday because this week has been unnecessarily busy for me, but I wanted to share another sneak peek at the not-so-enemies AU I’m writing that will hopefully come out this summer! In it, Gabriel tells Adrien his evil plans from the beginning and enlists his help defeating Ladybug, but life pulls an uno reverse on him when Adrien falls in love with the spotted heroine. I’m currently working on chapter 4 which reimagines the events of Bubbler~ I can’t wait to share this AU with all of you, it’s the project I’m most excited for right now. 

“Morning, dude!” Nino extended a fist when Adrien met him at the base of the stairs outside the school, and the two exchanged the secret handshake they’d made up—Adrien’s idea.

“Hey, Nino,” Adrien replied, lacking his normal enthusiasm.

“Why so down today? You’re usually stoked to come to school.” Nino tilted his head to the side.

“Happy Birthday, Adrikins!” Chloe sprang from the steps into his arms, shoving Nino out of the way and planting kisses on Adrien’s cheeks. “I ordered you a present, but those stupid delivery guys are taking forever to get it here.”

“Thanks, Chlo.” Adrien unlatched her arms from around his neck.

“Yo, it’s your bday? Why didn’t you tell me, dude?” Nino punched his arm.

“Probably because he didn’t want to pretend to enjoy gifts from you poor losers after seeing my amazing gift,” Chloe said.

“Chloe.” Adrien shot her a warning look, and she turned away with a huff.

“Fine, let the peasants give you cheap gifts, but don’t be mad at me when they all pale in comparison.” She sauntered back up the stairs, ponytail flipping over one shoulder.

“I know you guys are tight, but she’s the worst.” Nino shook his head. “But still, you should have told me your bday was coming up. We’ve got to throw you a big bash! I can DJ, and we can invite Marinette and Alya to get some good vibes going between you guys.”

“Thanks, but I’m not having a party.” Adrien sighed as they made their way up the stairs.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s my father. He barely even lets me out of the house. I doubt he’ll let me invite friends over. I think he’s allergic to joy.” Adrien shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, come on. He can’t be that bad,” Nino said.

Adrien looked him in the eye. “He got me office supplies as a gift.”

“Ouch.” Nino winced. “Okay, so your pops is uptight, but he just needs someone with the right vibes to ask him. Let me talk to him today, and I’m sure I can convince him to change his mind.”

“He won’t, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Adrien smiled. “Really, thanks, Nino.”

“Have some faith, my dude. And get your dancing shoes for tonight.” Nino draped an arm over his shoulders.

“I don’t think I have dancing shoes. Should I buy some?”

“I swear, I’m gonna write you a cool kid dictionary.” Nino groaned.

“You’d do that?”

“Ugh.” Nino shook his head, a gesture Adrien was starting to recognize every time he said something lame. Something told him he wouldn’t be getting that dictionary.

[snackhobi]

pairing: min yoonji x reader / word count: 9.7k / genre: f x f smut, assassin!au

summary: a fic inspired by this post and that’s pretty much it-

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), talk about death/assassination (nothing graphic dw! but they are assassins, so), mild violence, unnecessarily sexually charged lipstick application, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f giving/receiving), use of restraints, overstimulation, squirting, kind of dom!yoonji?

a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic I wrote as a gift to myself for my bday, it’s a lil rushed bc I wanted it done for today! women are so very beautiful and I am so very weak, thank you ladies for all being so amazing ily. this was meant to be a short pwp and now it’s almost 10k but I have no regrets bye

--

la petite mort French literal meaning: ‘the little death’; also an expression used to refer to the brief loss or weakening of consciousness, specifically the sensation of orgasm as likened to death; an orgasm.

--

“It’s just unacceptable.”

The woman in front of you is clearly wealthy. Her dark hair is perfectly styled and her pale nails are perfectly shaped and her subtle makeup is perfectly flattering; she’s starting to get older but rather than shy away from it, she’s leaning into it, and she looks almost imperious in her beauty, eyes sharp and set of her lips severe. Park Dahye was born into wealth and has clearly thrived in the life that she’s been afforded.

“Mmhm.” You try not to yawn. 

“He’s flitting around with some young, silly thing on his arm, with no consideration for the family’s reputation— my reputation,” she continues. Her posture is perfect, from the set of her spine to her crossed legs to her folded hands that rest on her knee, somehow demure and yet highlighting all of her beauty and riches; the jewellery on her wrists and fingers, the expensive heels on her feet, the slit of her haute-couture dress, no doubt tailored for her and her alone. “I’ve already spoken to him about his behaviour, but he’s just ignored my warnings. We may have agreed on the divorce but we’re currently still husband and wife— has he no shame?”

“Awful.” You don’t even try to hide how bored you are, but Dahye is so quietly incensed that she doesn’t even notice as she launches into the next part of her queenly diatribe, and you muffle a sigh.

That’s the problem with rich clients. Sure, they’re willing to fork over stupid amounts of money to you, but they also think that their issues are of paramount significance— like they’re the centre of the universe and their problems are the only important ones in the world. Like you’re interested in what they have to say. Like this is the only job you’ll ever do that holds real weight or meaning.

For them, it’s a life-changing (life-ending) decision. 

For you? It’s another Tuesday.

“Yes, yes, that’s just so terrible, gosh, I don’t know how you manage it,” you say once she pauses to take a breath, using the opportunity to cut her off before she launches into another part of her articulate rant. “Anyway. Would you prefer if his death was embarrassing or quiet?”

For the first time since you’ve met, she seems unsettled. “Pardon?”

Namjoon is much better with people than you, smooth and charming with his boyish dimples. Normally any discussions would go through your handler, but this woman had demanded to meet you personally and had been willing to pay for the privilege: so here you are, with your relative bluntness instead of Joon’s winsome smile.

“You know,” you say, gesturing with your hands. “When they find the body. Do you want him to be caught with his trousers around his ankles—literally or figuratively, that’s up to you— or would you rather it seemed like something natural and unpredictable? Like a sudden heart attack in his sleep, for example.”

When it comes to rich clients, a lot of it is about reputation. When someone’s shuffled off this mortal coil, it’s not just that they’re removed from the equation, it’s also about the ripples that their death leaves in the high society that they’ve lived in. Does she want her (soon-to-be) ex-husband made a mockery of, or does she just want him out of the picture?

She can’t see your face, behind your mask as it is, but you can see hers in perfect clarity. For all that Dahye seems put together and almost impassive, you see the tiny flicker in her eyes. Ah. She’s not just mad because he’s ruining their reputation. She’s hurt.

Man, that sucks. Honestly you bet it’s easier being an assassin than a rich housewife. At least when it comes to backstabbing you can literally involve a knife to sort your problems out. (Well, knives are messy, but you get the picture.)

“I’d prefer something quiet,” she decides. “I’d worry that it could lead back to me, otherwise.”

You’d be offended at the idea that you’d leave any trace that could implicate anyone or that this man’s sudden death was in any way suspicious, but she’s paying you enough that you find that you don’t care. You take pride in your work, but for the amount of zeroes involved in the fee you’re being paid, you think you can take an unintentional insult or two. Or three. Or ten.

You like money, what can you say.

“Sure thing,” you say, giving her a lazy, two fingered salute. You’ve been reclining against the desk of the hotel suite, flicking the complimentary, heavy metal pen between your fingers, twirling it like the world’s most underwhelming baton. You straighten up and let the pen drop back into the pen pot—wait, no, of course it’s a handmade porcelain jar, an alarmingly well-made Joseon porcelain replica. Everything in here stinks of money. “RM will confirm where the money is to be deposited. Half of it now as collateral, and half upon completion of the job,” you say. “If you change your mind between now and then, we’ll be keeping the original 50%, but if for some reason something goes awry, you’ll receive that money back. Sound good?”

She seems surprised at your directness. “I—”

“Fabulous!” You clap your hands together, although the sound is muffled by your gloves. You’re not about to leave your fingerprints everywhere, geez. “Alright, time for me to skidaddle I suppose! I’ve got work to be doing, people to be watching, men to be killing!”

Dahye flinches imperceptibly, but by this point you’ve already slipped out onto the balcony and into the night.

--

Being an assassin is hard work.

Technically, everyone has the capacity to kill another human being. But killing as a job involves a lot more than just caving someone’s head in with a rock—that’s why Cain isn’t referred to as an assassin, what with how he’d just bashed his brother Abel with a convenient stone that happened to be lying nearby. He was just a straight up dick.

No, when you kill professionally you need to be familiar with an array of different techniques, each one far more sophisticated than the last. You need to know how to be stealthy, how to blend in as you watch your target, how to set up the scenes of their death in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion. Or, instead, how to set the scene up in a way that lets any onlookers know that this person had been offed by someone who knew what they were doing, and knew it well. There's a difference between being a killer and being an assassin and you are firmly in the latter category.

So, if your client wants her husband to be shuffled off quietly, then that’s what she’ll get.

They really have pulled out all the stops for this charity gala. Everything is shining, glittering and bright: the surroundings, the food, the people. Especially the people. The rich elite have come together for an extravagant and exquisite night of ostentation and luxury, all in the name of raising money for some needy cause. (You try not to think of the irony and/or hypocrisy behind that.)

It’s almost laughable how easy it is to blend in here. Namjoon had secured (forged) invitations for you both, and so you hang off his arm as you make a slow sweep of the room, trailing unnoticed after your target. You’re not planning to make a move right now but you want to feel out exactly what he’s like: the more information you have about the person you’ve been contracted to assassinate, the better. 

Plus it’s an excuse to dress up nice and eat free food— though that last part is mainly Namjoon.

“God, these canapés are so good,” Namjoon moans quietly to you, hoovering up the flaky pastry crumbs from his fingers with single-minded intent. You dig your fingers subtly into his arm.

“I thought we agreed on not eating tonight, Joon,” you mutter to him, although you say it with a beatific smile in case anyone is watching; the place is heaving with people but you’re always on guard. (Even if Namjoon is right. The hors d’oeuvres that are on offer do look incredibly tempting.)

“You have a glass of champagne,” he points out.

“And you may have noticed that I haven’t drunk any of it.” You titter, as if he’s just told a funny joke, and lightly slap his arm. Again, you’re fairly certain no one is watching, but you can never be too careful. “It’s all about creating a facade, Joonie. It’s what we in the business call a ruse.”

Even throughout your back and forth, you’ve kept your eyes on your man of the night: Park Minjae, a middle-aged businessman who’s been greeting people and getting swept up in conversation, all while a slip of a blonde clings to his arm, stuck to his side like a pretty limpet. She’s cute, sure, but she lacks the poise that Dahye has, so you frankly don’t get it. Then again, not everyone finds strong women as attractive as you do. Weirdos.

You’ve been focused on Minjae but your eyes have also been flitting around the room, drinking in your surroundings, drawing up a detailed map of your environment (of course you’d scoped out the building before tonight, but with all the banquet tables and chairs around the layout is a little different). The people, too, have been subject to your scrutiny, although so far they all seem summarily unimportant and uninteresting, just as you’d suspected. You lift your glass to your lips and pretend to take a tiny, demure sip, glancing up through your eyelashes to scan the room again, and you freeze.

Holy shit.

You take back what you just said about everyone being unimportant and uninteresting. 

The woman who’s just walked in is fucking stunning. Her sleek dark bob is unstyled, but perfectly frames her beautiful face: sharp eyes, soft nose, flushed lips. Her cocktail dress lets you see almost every inch of those perfect legs, the line of her thighs to her calves and— oh, you swear you could shed a tear of joy. She’s already tall and she’s made even taller by the heels she wears, towering above most of the men here, a fucking Amazonian goddess who looks powerful and undeniably elegant at the same time. 

(Thank you for your service, tall women.)

You don’t know who she is, but goddamn, do you want to. She’s scanning the room, and for a brief moment, your eyes touch. A tiny thrill shudders up your spine at the darkness of her keen eyes, that quick and astute gaze. 

It’s only the tiniest of moments that’s over as soon as it’s started. The dark-haired beauty looks away and is already disappearing into the crowd before you realise, and it’s only then you notice that you’re staring, utterly drawn in by her cool poise and presence. You’ve been frozen in place with the rim of your champagne  glass resting against your mouth, and your eyelashes flutter as you blink and glance down.

The imprint of your lower lip has been left on the glass, stark red visible against its edge, and you squeeze Namjoon’s bicep.

“How does my lipstick look?”

He takes one look at you as he swallows down another tiny vol-au-vent. “Like half of it is missing,” he says, and you frown.

“Ugh. I’ll go touch it up in the bathroom. Keep an eye on our guy, I’ll be right back.”

It’s not until you’ve made it to the toilets that you realise that you do not, in fact, have any lipstick in your ridiculously small clutch bag. When it comes to your actual work, you’re meticulous and thorough and well-planned, but for some bizarre reason, a tube of lipstick is never the top of the list when it comes to equipment. Unbelievable. (You knew you should have worn the 24/7 stuff, but it was always such a nightmare to get off.)

You’ve been so busy rummaging through your bag that you’re completely caught off-guard at the sound of a quiet voice from behind you.

“Lost something?”

Oh, fuck. It’s her, your dark haired and dark eyed beauty, meeting your gaze through the mirror when you glance up from where you’re resting your bag against the marble counter  (marble, marble, marble, it’s all marble: the floors, the counters, the sinks; why do rich people always love marble?). She looks altogether too amused at your plight and at how your eyes have widened perceptibly upon seeing her again. But can she blame you? Her presence is so graceful and commanding and she’s so dizzyingly attractive it’s insane. Surely she must get this all the time.

You stare for a little longer than is probably polite, and even behind her fringe you can see how one of her eyebrows rises.

“Sorry for staring,” you say once you notice. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She pauses as she takes in the compliment. You see how her eyes flicker over your face and settle on your mouth; your upper lip, tinted burgundy red, while the lower is faint and smudged.

“Lipstick problems?” She cocks her head at you, still staring at your lips in the mirror. God, she’s so hot.

“Can you tell?” You sound rueful as you glance down at the reflection of your mouth, touching your bottom lip lightly with a fingertip. “I forgot to bring any with me so now I’m stuck.”

She finally looks away from you. You hear a small, metallic click as she unclasps her evening bag— marginally larger than your own— and lifts out a small tube of liquid lipstick. “Would you like to use mine?”

Fuck yes you would. 

“Oh, would that be alright?” You finally turn around, and you have to tilt your head back to look at her, taller than you in her heels. Jesus Christ. She’s going to be the death of you. Why are women so gorgeous? Who gave them the right? “I’m not sure the shade will match, though?”

You watch her beautiful mouth curve up into a small smirk as she pulls out a tiny pack of makeup remover wipes from her bag, and you swear could propose to her there and then. Beautiful and tall and organised? Holy shit. What a woman.

She’s got her bag in one hand, while the lipstick and wipes are clasped in the other; her hand is held up in such a way that you think she means for you to take them from her, but when you reach out she shakes her head.

“I’ll do it for you,” she says. The quiet note of authority in her tone makes you go weak at the knees.

Thank god the toilets you chose aren’t the main ones, because it means there’s no one around to see how she tilts her head at the marble counter in the universal gesture of get on there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but you, of course, immediately comply. You brace your hands against the cold stone before hitching yourself up, careful with the draping folds of your dress; the cold touch of the stone is noticeable through the material of your dress, but it’s instantly forgotten when your enchantress steps closer. 

You spread your knees so she can stand between them. Holy shit, she’s even better up close. Her lashes are wispy but they’re the perfect frame for her gorgeous eyes, which are dark and intent. You suppress a shiver. You hold yourself still as she leans forward and around you so she can put her clutch and lipstick down, trying to ignore how close she is, but there’s no way she can’t realise what she’s doing. Your heart is pounding. You wish you didn’t have a job to do tonight because you would so much rather be getting, ah, acquainted with this woman rather than following some old businessman around.

The only noise in the bathroom is the sound of peeling plastic as she opens the tiny packet of wet wipes before she curls one around her finger, glancing at you through her lashes.

“Open,” she instructs.

Your mouth drops open immediately. She sweeps the wipe over your lips, bottom, then top, touch firm but careful, drawing away the red from your skin; you stare at her as she works, how her eyes are cast down as she stares at your mouth. She’s using her free hand to grip your chin and you feel deliciously powerless in her grasp. 

You purse your lips a little to try and help her, watching the way her eyes flicker as she pulls the wipe back over them— somewhat firmer, this time, with more intent. Lingering. The only barrier between her finger and your mouth is soft and flimsy, the texture of the wipe against your lips like cotton as it drags across them, and it would be so easy to pull it out of her hands.

She flicks the dirtied wipe aside, heedless of how it lands on the unsullied marble, before reaching for her lipstick. She twists the tube in her fingers, motions of her hands precise and deft, and you’ve never been so attracted to how someone’s uncapped something before. 

You watch her hands. (She watches you.)

Your eyes trail over the wand as she pulls it out, dragging the doe foot against the rim to catch the excess before turning it towards you, putting the tube by your thigh, near where your hand is bracing against the marble. She takes hold of your chin once again. You stay quiet as she starts to sweep the lipstick over your lips, painting them the same flushed pink as her own. Once again she’s staring at her work so you’re free to drink her in, almost drunk from her beauty, eyes catching on the tiny moles on her pale skin, the smallest freckles that are only noticeable because you’re this close.

The squelch of the applicator sliding into the tube is almost lewd in the silence of the bathroom, and this time you can’t suppress a shiver when she pulls your chin down to open your mouth so she can go back in again on your lips, drawing a sharp, crisp line. Tracing the edges of your lips, the flushed swell of them, the peak of your cupid’s bow.

She glances up. For a moment you’re both still, staring at each other, tension in the air palpable, but then she smacks her lips and you copy the motion, evening the application of the makeup on your mouth. 

“Perfect,” she murmurs. “One more step.”

A small, confused frown flits over your face. She’s put the lipstick aside but then she lifts a finger and points towards your still parted lips. You take in a small, shuddering breath when she speaks again and you realise what she means.

“You don’t want to get lipstick on your teeth, do you?”

Both of her eyebrows have risen and she’s looking at you like you’re being silly if you disagree with her.

“No,” you say. You’re not about to deny her. “No, I don’t.”

Your eyes remain locked. You lean forwards, taking that perfect, long finger into your mouth, dragging your lips upwards so that any excess lipstick is caught against her pale skin, a ring of deep rose circling her bottom knuckle; you curl your tongue around her, hot and wet, feeling the crease of her knuckles and pad of her fingertip against your taste buds as you slowly, slowly pull away. 

It’s undoubtedly indecent and risqué and you can feel the flush of arousal settling in your lower belly, an almost embarrassing flush of wetness leaking out of you at the taste of her skin. She, however, remains unmoved, although she lets her finger linger just for a moment on your bottom lip, almost rough against their softness— but before you can swallow those fingers back down and ruin her meticulous work, she pulls away, lifting the discarded wipe to sweep it around her finger, catching the lipstick you’d left on her skin.

“Done.”

She steps back and you feel like you can finally breathe, a breath so deep you can feel how your lungs fill, oxygen rushing to your brain so fast you feel lightheaded. You watch as she sweeps everything back into her bag, clicking it shut with a note of finality; the sullied wipe is cast carelessly into a tiny, chrome bin with a flick of a wrist, her every motion regal.

You slide off the counter. You still can’t take your eyes off her and you don’t want to. It feels like whatever heaviness was in the air has dissipated, gone in an instant with a turn of her head— normally you’d let it slide, even if you feel disappointed, but she’s just so magnetic. 

“Thank you,” you say. You can see yourself in the mirror now and to your complete lack of surprise, your lipstick is perfect. The shade is lighter than one you’d have chosen for yourself but it’s beautiful on her, of course.

“You’re welcome.” She’s in the middle of washing her hands, but she glances over her shoulder at you, and the firm set to her face lightens a little as she smiles. It’s a small, sly thing, and you realise with a start that she knows exactly what effect she has on you.

I’m coming back for you, you think to yourself. You have work to do tonight, but—

“What’s your name?”

She pauses. She shuts off the tap with a quick motion, reaching forward for a rolled hand-towel, a neat stack on a metal tray nearby. You wonder if she’s not going to answer but then she speaks, looking at you instead of the soft cotton she’s rubbing over her skin. “Yoonji,” she says. “I’m Min Yoonji.”

Min Yoonji is the most gorgeous fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

“I love your dress, Yoonji,” you say, and it’s true, you really do— but you’d prefer it if it was off. Not that you’re about to say that, of course.

She lets out a breath of laughter. “I know.” Oh, god, you love confident women. “What’s your name, darling?”

You have that same split second of hesitation, similar to Yoonji’s only moments prior. You use a codename when you work, of course, and you have a plethora of fake identities that you use and are intimately familiar with— but the idea of your real name falling off Yoonji’s flushed, petal lips? Woof.

“Y/n L/n,” you say. 

Oh, Joon would be so unimpressed right now, giving some mysterious woman your full, real name just because you think she’s the sexiest thing since sex, but whatever. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Well, Y/n,” Yoonji says. You were right, your name sounds so good falling from her mouth, the mouth that’s turned into a small, almost smug smile. “I certainly hope to see you at the charity ball in a few weeks?”

“Of course.” Your schedule has been magically cleared and you’ll definitely be in attendance for whatever ball Yoonji is referring to, even if you have no idea what it is. You only come to these things if you have to for work but for Yoonji you’ll make an exception. You’ll make a hundred thousand exceptions. A hundred thousand quinquagintaquadringentillion exceptions. “I’ll make sure to remember my lipstick next time.”

And there it is, the thing that seals the deal, the final nail in the coffin: Yoonji glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, a sharp, dark touch that shoots through you as her smile edges into hunger.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m sure it won’t stay on your lips long enough to matter.”

--

The thing you’ve discovered about Minjae is that, with his divorce due to be finalised soon, he’s apparently lost any sense of routine and is revelling in his new found freedom, which is kind of irritating when you’re trying to tail the guy. Sure, you’re still going to take him out, but you prefer it when targets have some sort of schedule that they adhere to— makes it easier to set up a kill.

“You’re certain that he’s going to be here tonight?” You’d been sceptical considering how the guy’s apparently thrown his schedule out of the window, but Namjoon had been certain.

“Positive.” He’d said. “He’s there every Tuesday night. You’ll have plenty of time.”

The house appears to be deserted. The driveway is empty and all the windows and doors are locked tight. It’s just one of the properties that the Parks own in the city, and for all its size and lushness it appears as though this one is rarely frequented; you imagine that the cleaners and gardeners spend more time here than the owners themselves.

It doesn’t take you long to evade the watchful eyes of security cameras to pick a lock and slip inside. You're grateful for the dying evening light that helps cover your tracks from any onlookers from the street, although you imagine the high walls do good work at preventing people from seeing into the grounds anyway.

There’s still enough light to navigate through the house, the golden tinged sunset casting warm shadows across the spotless furniture and fixtures; you take a moment to let your eyes slide across a huge canvas hanging on a wall that spans two storeys, some impressionist piece that’s surprisingly ugly for all the talent that’s obvious in its brushstrokes. Maybe that’s why the Parks are never here? You’d certainly try to avoid seeing this thing if you could. Eurgh.

Even though the building is empty, you’re careful as you start to make your way forwards. You always place your toes down first whenever you take a step, soundless as you start to map the house out in your mind; there are so many rooms you can hide in, but you’d prefer to be close to wherever Minjae ends up. Saves faffing around later. 

You’ll overpower him, inject the toxin into his blood and wait for him to die before setting him up on the toilet— it’s surprisingly common for people to die while on the shitter, the strain leading to an untimely heart attack, especially in older people. The poison you’re using tonight will mimic the symptoms of a heart attack in the case the coroner decides a post-mortem needs to be undertaken.

(Being found on the bog might not be a particularly graceful way to die but when you’re dead it’s kind of hard to be embarrassed.)

You’ve eased the door open into a large bedroom, and you’re just inspecting if it looks like this room sees more use than the others when you pause. It’s deathly silent in this building, the air still minus where you glide through it as you move, but there’s a feeling in your gut, some instinct that makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You freeze, ears straining to catch any noise to let you know if there’s someone else here, when—

There. In the reflection of a burnished pot, the tiniest shifting movement.

You react almost faster than the eye can see. You spin to parry a hit that was aimed for your head, and the strength behind it shudders through your arms. You only have a second to take in the details of your assailant— dressed in dark clothing, masquerade style mask in place, a professional just like you— before you’re deflecting another flurry of blows, flipping backwards out of reach before spinning into a kick, hooking that burnished pot with your foot and sending it flying towards the other assassin.

They dodge it. You both ignore the sound of clattering metal as you lunge forwards, trying to catch them off guard after their sidestep— your fist makes contact with their palm instead of their face, your hand engulfed in theirs, and you startle at their speed. You might not be the strongest but you’re damn fast. 

There’s a pause, and you can only see a slither of their eyes through the sockets of their mask, but you can tell that they’re impressed. And honestly? So are you. 

The moment shatters when they use the hand they're holding to twist you, locking an arm around your neck and putting you into a chokehold; they’re strong, stronger than you, cutting off your airflow. You need to get out of this before you fall unconscious, but if they’re trained as well as you then they’ll know how to combat the usual ways you’d use to get out of this.

So, in a demonstration of your flexibility you kick a leg up, using the strength of your thighs and calves to slam it into the arm that’s around your neck. Your assailant lets out a noise of surprise and pain as you slip out of their hold and cartwheel across the room before spinning to face them.

There’s a beat. The air is tense. You get another chance to take in the details of whoever’s just tried to choke you out; you stare at her as she stares at you, the two of you poised and ready to strike, watching and waiting. 

Knives might be messy but of course you’re not unarmed. You have multiple sheathed weapons in your clothes, though you don’t make a move to draw any of them. Yet. “I suppose you wouldn’t tell me who your employer is, would you?”

Your opponent tilts her head. “You don’t know?” She sounds amused, even through her mask. “Minjae took out a contract on the assassin who has a contract on him.”

Your lip curls back from your teeth. The only way Minjae would have heard about your contract is if Dahye had told him. Presumably to try and shock him out of his behaviour, or something, who knows. “This is the last time I’m accepting a job from these rich old farts,” you mutter. 

“That’s for certain,” she says. 

She starts to move and you catch her arm just as she goes to unsheathe a wicked looking blade, knocking it aside before she overpowers you and you start to wrestle. It’s messy and graceless but sometimes you just have to fight dirty. 

Whoever this woman is, she still has the upper hand because she was expecting you and you weren’t expecting her; she knocks you onto the bed and pins you down, swooping the knife up from where it had been thrown onto the mattress. You go utterly still as she holds it against your throat, towering over your from where she’s straddling your waist and kneeling on your arms. Any sudden movement from you now could lead to your untimely demise— and, unsurprisingly, you absolutely want to avoid that at all costs.

Namjoon would never let you live it down if you were killed on the job.

You hum. “It seems like we’ve reached an impasse.”

She doesn’t respond. The knife doesn’t dip any lower, though; you’re undoubtedly at her mercy but you notice she’s careful to keep the knife still, hovering above the skin of your neck, but not making contact.

“Well,” you continue. “At least I’m going out the way I’d always hoped to.”

Even in the dying light and with how her face is covered, you notice her face shifting behind her mask— a silent, questioning raise of an eyebrow. You give her a cheeky smile that crinkles your eyes.

“In bed with a beautiful woman, of course.”

At this she huffs out a laugh. “Do you flirt with every person who tries to kill you?”

You’re trying to look as non-threatening as possible to keep that knife away from your jugular. The longer you talk, the longer you live, even if you can’t see a way to get out of this situation right now. “Only the pretty ones.”

The small laugh she lets out this time seems more like a scoff. “You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes. “Any woman who can fight like you and knows how to handle a knife? Automatically hot. I don’t need to see your face to know that.”

The knife still hasn’t moved. She continues to stare you down and you go tense when her free hand moves. She tugs the cloth of your mask down to reveal your face, the air of the room almost cold against the suddenly bared skin, your breaths free to curl out unhindered.

“Usually I like to be taken out to dinner at least once before we get this intimate, but for you I suppose I’ll make an exception.” You’re still grinning cheekily at her, but your mind continues to race as you try to think of a way to get out of this, especially now that she’s seen what you look like—but you suddenly notice that she’s gone very, very still.

“Y/n?”

The grin freezes on your face. Oh, you’re so boned. You’re so very boned. Like, yeah, you’ve been seconds away from death for the past, hmm, five minutes, but this is somehow worse. How the fuck does she know your name?

You’re given the answer almost immediately. She withdraws the hand from your chin and reaches for her own mask. Your eyes widen and your breath stutters in your throat once you see who it is.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

Yoonji is staring down at you. She’s every inch as imperious and stunning as the last time you’d seen her— hell, even moreso now that you’ve seen what she’s capable of. No wonder you hadn’t been able to find out anything about her after you’d met at that garish charity gala. Because she’s untraceable, just like you.

“Well.” You stare back at her, not even attempting to keep the surprise off your face. “If anyone has to kill me at least I can die satisfied in the knowledge that it was you. Can I make a request? I’d be eternally grateful if you smothered me to death with your thighs. Just a suggestion, feel free to ignore it if you want.”

Yoonji cocks her head. Her bob is tied back, but there’s a loose lock of hair curled by the side of her face that shifts at the motion. Your fingers twitch. If she wasn’t kneeling on your arms you know you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from tucking it behind her ear. Any excuse to touch her. “Do you always talk so much?”

“Hey, if it means I get to feel your legs around my face before I die, I’ll give a full fledged TED talk,” you say. “I have to admit, though. When I pictured us in bed together I didn’t think it would be like this.”

The knife still hasn’t moved from your throat. She continues to stare, as if considering what to do next, though her face remains impassive. “What did you think it would be like?”

“Well, you know. Less knives and clothes involved and a lot more making out,” you answer. “You, telling me what to do. Me, entirely at your command. Anything the lady wants, she gets.”

The human body is a fickle and strange beast. Ever since you discovered who’s straddling you, you’ve been growing wetter and wetter, even if you’re trying not to let on that you’re steadily growing more aroused— you’re still distinctly aware of the knife that’s only centimetres away from your skin, but somehow your body is more focused of the fact that the woman you’ve been daydreaming about is finally in front of you again. 

(Well, less in front of you and more on top of you, which is an admittedly preferable option, sans the knife involvement.)

You see how Yoonji’s eyes are darting over your face. No doubt taking in how your pupils are dilated, how your breaths are a little shallower, quicker— signs of fear and signs of arousal are surprisingly similar. You wonder if she can identify which it is. Probably. You’re not exactly very subtle in your attraction to her.

“I forgot my lipstick again,” you add, and Yoonji’s passive mask finally breaks when she rolls her eyes.

“Didn’t I say you wouldn’t need it?”

Even the way she throws the knife aside is gorgeous. The sharp undulation of her wrist as she sends the blade skittering across the polished wood floor is careless and fluid. Her hands cup your face as she bends down, and you send up a mental thanks to any god or higher being who might be listening before Yoonji presses her lips to your and your brain goes blank.

Apparently Yoonji likes it messy. One of her hands is grasping your chin in a mockery of the last time you’d met and she’d painted your lips— your mouth is open and she licks past your lips as you shudder beneath her. She’s still got her knees pressed into your arms, pinning you down, but you desperately crane your head towards her, chasing that kiss; you tilt your head to deepen it, and the whine that leaves you when she pulls away is almost embarrassing.

The sun has finally dipped below the horizon and the room is dark, painted in shades of grey and deep blue. You wish you could see Yoonji properly and you can’t help but wriggle a little underneath her, but then you watch her raise her hands and clap three times in rapid succession before the room floods with dim light. Sound activated lights? Damn.

Yoonji’s mouth shines, covered in a sheen of your mixed saliva, her pretty lips flushed rose pink; even without makeup they’re beautiful and their colour is deep, the blooming petals of a flower. Your eyes trail over her face, down her neck, over the fall of her chest and stomach— you’re both far too covered up in these stupid ensembles of yours and you want to strip the clothes off her. You want to see every inch of her beautiful, majestic body, bared for your lips and hands.

Fuck, she’s so gorgeous.

“Not to, um, ruin the moment, but my hands are going numb.” The weight of Yoonji’s body being pressed into your arms has pretty much cut off the blood flow to your fingers and you can feel the telltale sensation of pins and needles spreading through your skin. “Can I have those back, please?”

Yoonji lifts her knees just enough for you to slide your arms out from underneath them. You immediately shed your gloves and go to grab her ass but she gives you a sharp look and you freeze, slowly settling them on her thighs instead, which she allows with only the slightest raise of her eyebrows.

“Watch,” she commands, and who are you to disobey?

She reaches for the tie in her hair, tugging it out and letting her dark locks fall to frame her lovely, beautiful face. You hungrily swallow down each sight that she feeds to you, the skin that’s revealed as she shrugs off her layers of clothing. She unbuckles the weapons hidden underneath her clothes as she sheds them; she’s a veritable arsenal of firearms and knives, all cast carelessly aside until her upper body is finally, blessedly naked. You’ve been staring at her the whole time, the graceful column of her throat, the delicate lines of her collarbones, and your gaze falls to her breasts, small and perfect, nipples dusty pink and hard. You want to put your mouth on them.

“Holy shit, you’re perfect,” you say.

She smirks. You watch as she rolls her body, lifting up from her knees and standing up, towering above you on the bed—your hands fall to the mattress as she pulls her trousers down, tight material dragging against her skin as she slides it over the curve of her hips and down her long legs. There’s a dagger strapped to her thigh, which she unbuckles and lets fall to one side, but god, if she used it to kill you right now, you would die a happy woman. The image of Min Yoonji towering above you in nothing more than some flimsy underwear is one you want to take to the grave.

You can see how the material around her entrance is darkened with her arousal, and you feel your own body react to the sight, pussy throbbing, your own lower lips slick underneath all your layers of clothing. Yoonji hooks her thumbs into her panties and pushes them down, and you’re enraptured as you watch how the wetness clings to them, before that last bit of clothing is cast aside too. 

You moan, unable to stop the sound bubbling up in your throat. From how she’s standing above you, legs spread from how her feet are either side of your hips, you can see everything—how her cunt is flushed, how wet she is, her folds shining. You bet she tastes so fucking good.

You let your mouth fall open, tongue lolling out in a way that’s obscene. You see Yoonji’s eyes flicker as she traces the motion, the way she takes in your expression: wide, hungry eyes, parted lips, wet tongue. Your hands skim up the back of her calves as she shifts forwards and returns to her knees, her naked core so, so close to your mouth, and you dig your fingers into her skin.

“Bon appé-fucking-tit,” you murmur, and then you pull her onto your face.

Yoonji gasps. 

(You were right. She tastes so, so fucking good.)

You’re utterly shameless as you slurp up her juices, the wetness that continues to leak out of her as you bury your face into her cunt, tongue lapping over her entrance as your nose brushes her clit. Your hands have moved to the flesh of her ass and you encourage her to grind against you, rolling her hips towards your greedy mouth; you’re staring up at her, drinking down her reactions, the way her face twists with pleasure and the shuddering breaths she takes in, perfect little breasts jumping at the motion. There’s a flush spreading down her neck and chest, pale skin blushing pink, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You purse your lips against her clit, circling it with your tongue before dipping back down between her folds. Each time you breathe in all you can smell is her scent, heavy and dark, all your senses filled with Yoonji, Yoonji, Yoonji. When you hum against her, Yoonji arches her spine and throws her head back, so when you press your tongue into her you hum again, letting the vibrations shiver through her.

“Yes,” she gasps, rutting against your face. “Yes, yes—”

Her thighs tighten around your head. You redouble your efforts, watching her face as you continue to swipe your tongue up her slit and through her folds; you wish you could swallow each of the noises that are falling from her lips as she reaches the crest of her pleasure, the little gasps and moans each time you move your tongue in a particularly wicked way.

“There,” she says. “There, there, just like that—”

Your jaw aches but you don’t even register it, too intent on keeping your mouth open and hot and wet against her. It only takes a few more swipes and flicks of your tongue before she shudders violently, canting her hips towards your mouth as her legs go tense and she cums. She continues to straddle your face as she rides out the waves of pleasure, and you swallow down the wetness that flushes out of her rippling cunt, ignoring the throbbing between your own legs.

You can’t talk, muffled by her as you are, but your mind is singing. Look at you, you think. Look at how gorgeous you are. God, I could eat you out all day. (What a blessed life that would be.)

You can tell when Yoonji’s edged into oversensitivity, jolting when your tongue sweeps over her swollen clit; she settles back, knees spread as she rests against your heaving chest, legs tensing each time an aftershock shivers through her. Your mouth is open as you pant in air, but she watches as you swipe your tongue over your lips, catching the lingering taste of her on you, your chin opalescent with her arousal.

“Okay,” you say, breathless. “I’ve done everything that’s worth doing. I’ve peaked. Everything is downhill from here. You can kill me now.”

You’re only half joking, but your thighs instinctively go tight to rub against each other when you see how Yoonji’s eyes darken.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she purrs.

Yoonji might be naked while you’re still clothed, and so still armed, but she’s undoubtedly the one who’s in control right now. You are so, so okay with that. You watch with wide eyes as she shifts back, her hands grabbing the material of your jacket to tug you upwards, but before she can strip off your clothes you capture her lips with your own.

The taste of her is still heady and deep in your mouth and you nip at her bottom lip before pressing your tongue forwards. The kiss is already slick from Yoonji’s wetness and when you pull away, there’s a thin string of saliva that connects you for a moment before it breaks, which Yoonji wipes away from your chin with the pad of her thumb.

“Dirty girl,” she says, and you bite back a moan at the unabashed lust in her voice. Her grip on your chin is firm. “Did I say you could kiss me?”

“No,” you answer. “I couldn’t help myself.”

She tuts, as if disappointed, and every one of your nerve endings feels electrified, ready and anticipating whatever Yoonji is going to do next. “Such a shame,” she says. “You just can’t keep your hands or mouth to yourself, can you?”

“Can you blame me?”

Yoonji huffs out a laugh through her nose. She strips your jacket off in one sharp motion and then your shirt is similarly pulled off with single-minded intent, along with every other piece of equipment cinched to your arms and body. When you reach for her, though, she captures your wrists, her face stern.

“If you keep moving without permission, I’m going to take that privilege away from you.”

You don’t have to see your own eyes to know how your pupils will have dilated from that statement, blood thrumming through your veins, and you can tell Yoonji has noticed when her expression shifts.

“Oh.” A small, triumphant smirk appears on her face. “I see.”

You lift your arms up so she can pull your sports bra off (of course if you had known you’d been running into Yoonji again you would have worn something nicer). Rather than touch your heaving chest, however, she pushes you down onto the mattress, a hand around your wrists so they’re held above your head.

“Keep still,” she says.

She reaches for the holster that you’d had around your upper arm, lazily casting the knife aside before looping it around your wrists and pulling it secure.

Yoonji’s fingers ease under the nylon as she checks the fit. It’s tight, but not so much so that it’s painful or dangerous, and there’s a hushed moment when the realisation hits you— Yoonji and yourself are both skilled enough to know that you could easily free yourself if you wanted to. It would only take a little motion of your wrists and hands and you could slip them out of the makeshift cuffs in an instant.

You melt into the mattress. Yoonji’s eyes shift away from your wrists as she takes in the way you’ve gone utterly relaxed and limp below her, staring back at her. You see an expression flit across her face faster than you can see, before she slides down your body so she can push your legs apart.

You lift your hips to help her strip your trousers off. Her hand lingers on the concealed holster around your thigh, eyeing the small pistol nestled inside it, before that too is stripped off and cast aside. Her hands trail over the soft skin of your hips and stomach, eyes skimming over the bared length of your body before settling between your legs, the slickness of your inner thighs.

“You got this wet just from eating me out?” Her pretty mouth is curled into an expression that’s almost mocking, and your legs jolt as she runs her fingers lightly over your lower lips before rubbing her fingertips together to feel the wetness she’s gathered. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your nails dig into your palms as your hands twist against each other and you shift your legs further apart. “Please, Yoonji,” you plead, shameless from desperation and arousal.

She laughs at your obvious hunger. “I suppose I should return the favour, shouldn’t I?”

You watch breathlessly as she lifts her fingers to her lips, swallowing them into her mouth to get them slick and wet. The motions of her tongue are languid as she licks across her fingers. You’re like a livewire, thrumming with electricity, and the sensation of her finally sinking one of those fingers into you sends sparks throughout your body.

Yoonji’s maddeningly slow. Your body takes her readily, her long finger gliding easily in and out of you, but she makes no move to speed up; you let out a small noise and she moves upwards to kiss you, as if indulging you, and you’ve just relaxed against her mouth when she plunges a second finger in.

She swallows your gasp as her fingers speed up, before she starts to kiss across your jaw, your neck, between the valley of your breasts and then closing her mouth over one of your nipples— she times the flick of her tongue with the thrust of her fingers, and then you feel how she takes her thumb to press your clit at the same time and you’re gone, falling over the edge faster than you’d expected. Your orgasm is fast but deep, your walls clenching tight around the fingers that continue to curl in and out of you, but she doesn’t stop.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “It’s too— oh—”

Those two fingers continue to rub your sweet spot as you edge into oversensitivity but Yoonji doesn’t let up. She continues to lick and bite at the skin of your chest, putting her mouth to your other breast and circling the hardened bud of your nipple with her tongue before kissing down your stomach, your pubic bone, and then pressing her lips to your swollen clit.

You whimper. Her pace of her fingers has quickened, and she curls them each time she almost pulls them out, the squelch of their motions obscene as they slide through the cum of your first orgasm. She stares up at you, lapping at your clit with her tongue, and you can feel the saliva that’s dripping from her mouth and over your flushed core, every inch of you oversensitive but screaming with pleasure.

It’s almost painful, but you can feel an orgasm creeping through that ache; you wring your hands together and sob as Yoonji continues to finger fuck you without mercy, her pace almost bruising, the thrust of her knuckles against you each time she bottoms out just one more layer on top of that overwhelming pleasure.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “I’m g-gonna cum again.”

She hums against you, and you make an incoherent noise at the feeling of that sound against your clit, almost too much— and then she presses one more finger into you, and that’s it, that slight burn and stretch sending you hurtling over that edge again. When you cum, your hips buck and you gasp, air rushing into your lungs before it escapes you in a moan of ecstasy; the only sensations registering in your mind right now are the ripples of pleasure spreading through your cunt as Yoonji pulls her fingers out of you, pressing down on your clit in a way that’s almost cruel, and you sob as your legs instinctively try to tighten but are prevented from doing so by Yoonji’s unyielding presence.

She’s staring down at you as you start to go lax, and you think she’s finished with you, but you watch with widening eyes as she takes her ring and middle finger to run them through your sodden folds. You sob again when those fingers plunge back into you, palm pressing against your clit each time she curls her fingers, and you squirm underneath her.

“Yoonji, it’s too much,” you cry.

“One more.” Yoonji’s leaning back and staring at you, taking in the sweat that’s beading across your skin, the tears that are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill down your face and into your hair. “You’re doing so well, darling, you can give me one more, can’t you?”

Your reply is incoherent, a small noise that shudders out of the back of your throat. You’ve never been thrown so thoroughly into pleasure like this, overstimulated and aching, but there’s that flicker of pleasure still between your legs, growing each time Yoonji beckons with her fingers, curling over your abused sweet spot again and again and again.

“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Yoonji says, the wet plunge of her fingers into your abused pussy so messy and loud but not enough to drown her out. “One word and I’ll stop.”

You don’t say anything. You just let your eyes roll back into your head as you cant your hips towards her, trying to latch onto that thread of pleasure that’s thrumming through you below all your screaming nerves, and the noise Yoonji makes is pleased.

“There we go,” she praises. “Look at you, so good for me. Pretty darling.”

You can feel how your pussy clenches around Yoonji’s fingers, how the coil in you is squeezing tighter and tighter, how another orgasm is somehow creeping up on you— you tilt your hips towards that feeling, towards Yoonji’s hand, and then she’s pulling her fingers out of you in an almost rough motion and you’re cumming harder than you ever have before.

“Oh, fuck!” You sob. 

It’s indescribable. The sensation rips through you as your back arches off the bed and you’re cumming and squirting and gasping and you can feel the wetness that slicks out of you, your toes curling as your brain goes blank from the staggering pleasure and static consumes every one of your senses. Your entire body feels like nothing more than a vessel for the ecstasy that’s shooting through your veins, spreading out from your core and to every corner of your insides and limbs.

It takes you a while to come back around, aftershocks wracking through your body. You feel sluggish and slow as your mind slowly clears, focusing on the sensation of warm hands stroking over the skin of your stomach and hips and thighs; your eyes flutter open and when you glance down you can see the shine to Yoonji’s skin, evidence of your pleasure painting her in a thin sheen of liquid.

“Oh my god,” you moan. “Holy shit.”

She smiles. “You were so, so good for me,” she says. She leans down to press a light kiss to collarbones and you shiver. “So beautiful. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve died and gone to heaven before coming back again,” you reply. “Oh, that was so good, Yoonji. I’ve never squirted before. I didn’t realise I could. God.”

Yoonji laughs lightly. You can’t help but watch the way it transforms her face, the way her chest jumps at the motion, every inch of her gorgeous and majestic and cute and pretty. “You did so, so well,” she praises, before she kisses you, her mouth so soft; you barely notice the sudden easing of pressure around your wrists as she releases you, more intent on the sensation of her soft petal lips against your own.

You stare up at her as she pulls away. Powerful, amazing Min Yoonji, kneeling between your legs, naked but not helpless. Definitely less vulnerable than you right now. And yet she’s still making no moves to grab one of the many weapons littered around the bed so she can finally finish her contract by completing the kill. It would be so easy for her.

The silence of the room is suddenly broken by a tiny buzzing noise. You both glance over at the sound, one that Yoonji doesn’t recognise but you do— the communicator in one of your wristbands, the one you use to keep in contact with Namjoon.

You watch the twisting of Yoonji’s body as she leans over the bed to hook the band with a finger before proffering it to you. You pause, but then grasp her wrist and lightly pull so she ends up pressed against you, softness of her breasts against your own, and you hold the communicator between your faces as you accept the call.

“Thank god you answered.” Namjoon’s voice is obviously frantic even through the tinniness of the small speaker. “Dahye cancelled the contract because Minjae wants to reconcile with her, but apparently he’s already put a hit out on you— tonight was a ruse, Minjae isn’t going to be there, you have to get out of there—”

“Bit too late for that,” you interrupt. Yoonji’s hair is tickling your cheek. “Don’t worry. I have it in hand. Send some flowers to Minjae for me, will you?”

“Flowers?” Namjoon sounds understandably confused. “Why?”

“As a thank you for taking out a contract on me,” you say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a little busy.”

“With what?”

“With me,” Yoonji says, and you hear Namjoon’s surprised intake of breath before you cut the line.

You end up laughing to yourself. “Oh, he’s going to hate me for that,” you giggle. Yoonji’s hand trails up your stomach and you continue to giggle at the ticklish sensation. Her skin is still slick against yours, and you suddenly realise how cold it is in the room, the air touching the cooling liquid that’s rubbed off against your skin, and you shiver. “Mm. I think it’s time to clean up. Want me to scrub your back in the shower? I give very good massages.”

Yoonji’s eyes are dark and warm before she presses her nose to your neck, lips soft as they touch the delicate skin of your throat. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

[retrievablememories]

make a wish | lucas

title: make a wish pairing: lucas x reader genre: fluff, a little angst request: hiii! can i please request something for wayv lucas where you dont answer his calls or texts for a day because you and the other wayv members were setting up a surprise bday party for him. thank you! word count: 1.7k warnings: hmm none that i can think of... a/n: not sure if i like how this came out, let’s pretend i didn’t post it if it flops 🤡 i felt like this was maybe a little more ~angsty~ than it needed to be altho i wasn’t sure how else to maneuver the surprise bday thing without them blowing the cover lmao...also yea it’s not his bday anymore but life is busy lol

To: Y/N Helloo~~? Y/N, are you ever gonna answer me back?

Seriously, did I do something wrong…

If you’re mad at least tell me why.

Lucas knows you’re not in any kind of danger or distress because he’s seen you be active on your social media accounts, but he can’t understand why you haven’t answered a single one of his calls or texts. Especially since tomorrow is his birthday.

Lucas feels frustrated at not being able to get through to you, and none of the other members seem to know what’s going on even when he asks. They’re close enough to you to have your number and talk to you regularly, but they all claim they haven’t heard anything from you either.

Ten looks up from his phone, seeing Lucas standing in the middle of the room looking bewildered as he stares down at his own phone like it’ll give him an answer. “Maybe Y/N wants a break from you right now,” he suggests, which makes Lucas sweat a bit despite himself. Ten wouldn’t know that. Right? Unless you’d told him something to suggest that.

“Stop trying to destroy happy homes, hyung,” Xiaojun says. “I’m sure it’s not that. Maybe she just needs alone time. Everyone does sometimes.”

“I guess,” Lucas mumbles. But he also knows that you’d usually tell him in advance if that were that case—not just ignore him completely. He thinks about going over to your place to find out what’s going on, but if what Xiaojun said is true, it’d probably be better not to disturb you or make you upset. “Are you sure she hasn’t contacted any of you? You look like you’ve been texting someone all day.”

Lucas tries to lean over Ten and look at his phone screen, but Ten is faster and leaps off the couch and away from him. “Don’t invade my privacy! Stop before you see something you don’t wanna see.”

Xiaojun laughs from where he sits on the ground playing with Bella. “Yeah, remember last time? No one needs a recap of that.” Ten rolls his eyes at that.

Lucas throws himself over the couch where Ten just was, sighing deeply. “Sure, sure. I’ll just suffer here then, lost in the dark without a clue what’s going on...”

Xiaojun brings Bella up to the couch so she can peer up at Lucas with her huge dark eyes, resting her forepaws on his arm. The corner of Lucas’s mouth turns up in a smile and he reaches out to pet her soft furry head. Xiaojun grins when the other man does, and he presses his face into her fur.

“I promise tomorrow will be better. It’s your birthday, after all...just watch.”

Despite Xiaojun’s reassurance, Lucas feels even more uncertain when he wakes up the day of his birthday, especially when he has no idea what the day has in store.

The other WayV members had all left the dorm early in the morning with the reasoning that they had individual schedules or needed to run urgent errands. Though they gave him their birthday wishes and said they’d come back as soon as possible so they could all celebrate, Lucas was more than a little disappointed about being left alone on his birthday. At least he had the pets to keep him company...and the manager and dorm auntie. Although they were nice to have around, they weren’t exactly who he was expecting to spend the day with.

He spends a while throwing toys around for the cats and Bella to play fetch with as he lies on his stomach on the floor, his phone a few feet away from him in case someone decides to call. Maybe someone like you.

Lucas tries a few more times to get in touch with you and still can’t get through, which makes him even more stressed than he was yesterday. Maybe the situation is something more serious than he initially thought? But still, you retweeted a couple things on Twitter just that morning, so it can’t be anything dire or life-threatening.

Lucas tries not to let his feelings bleed into bitterness, though he thinks you’ve picked a fine time to suddenly want to be isolated from everyone else.

A couple hours pass, but the time seems to go even slower than humanly possible. When even the pets become tired of the games and decide to wander off or take a nap, Lucas finally decides to just get dressed and go find something to do on his own for today; he doesn’t know what just yet, but there must be something to do. Just as he’s leaving the dorm, something happens that he previously thought was impossible; he gets a text from you.

From: Y/N Yukhei!! Can you come over?

To: Y/N ?? After ignoring me for a day and a half?

From: Y/N Please. It’s important.

I promise I will make it up to you, but you have to come over right noww 🥺

To: Y/N 😪 Fine, I’ll come over

Lucas makes it over to your place not too long after he finishes texting you. He’s not sure what to expect or what you’ll have to say to him once you see each other—or what he’ll say to you. His interest is piqued even more when he gets a text from you as he’s making his way up the stairs to your apartment.

From: Y/N Just come on in, the door’s unlocked. I’m a lil busy so I can’t get it myself!!

“Busy with what?” Lucas says to himself out loud. Now more curious than he was before, he continues up the stairs until he’s at your door. When he pushes it open, he’s taken aback by the sight of you and the other WayV members standing in front of the entryway.

You’re standing in the middle of them all, holding a cake with lit candles on it and smiling widely at your shocked boyfriend. “Surprise!” you and the other men exclaim all at once. “Happy birthday, Yukhei!!”

Lucas freezes in the doorway with a growing smile on his face, looking at all of you—and your surroundings—incredulously. Your apartment has been done up rather extensively with birthday banners, balloons, streamers, and every other kind of decoration you’d expect to see at a birthday celebration. 

You all sing happy birthday to him then, and he watches you and his friends with his eyes sparkling with delight and a bashful smile on his face.

“Wait...is this why you wouldn’t answer me back?” A laugh slips out of him as he covers his mouth, and he feels a bit silly, like maybe he should’ve seen something like this coming. Obviously, you’d never freeze him out on a day like this without a really good reason for it. “Y/N, you did all this for me?”

“Of course! I mean, the guys helped with decorating and setting everything else up ‘cause it was hard to do all that and bake a cake—but you know what I mean.”

Lucas leaves the entryway and steps forward now, still grinning widely. “Wah, you guys told me you didn’t know anything!”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise anymore if we told you.” Hendery laughs.

“Sorry we kept you in the dark for so long, hyung,” Yangyang chimes in, “but as you can see, we did a really good job putting everything together. So it paid off!”

“Now, blow out your candles,” you tell Lucas, bringing the cake forward.

Lucas shakes his head in happy disbelief as he looks down at your creation and chuckles to himself. “You must’ve really worked hard on this...I know baking isn’t your favorite thing to do.”

You laugh sheepishly. “Yeah, well, it took a few failed attempts to get this result, that’s for sure.”

Lucas thinks to himself for a moment, then closes his eyes and blows out the candles. Everyone claps and cheers after he does, and his answering grin is possibly the sweetest thing you’ve seen all day.

Sicheng grins mischievously and suddenly breaks up the moment by saying, “Now, can we eat?”

The rest of the day is spent with you all talking about any and everything, playing games, and watching movies, which eventually ends up with everyone falling asleep in various spots of your living room. You and Lucas got the honor of taking the couch, with Kun squeezed in beside Lucas and currently knocked out, head leaning against the back of the couch.

You and Lucas are the only ones still awake, although it probably won’t be long before you’re off to dreamland too. You can feel yourself getting sleepier, though you try your best to stay conscious. Lucas glances down at you where your body rests in his arms, and he grins to himself, placing his lips on the top of your head for a gentle kiss.

“I want us to stay like this forever, you know. Just the two of us,” he whispers close to your ear.

“Me too…” you murmur, already half-asleep against his chest despite your best efforts.

“It’s what I wished for.”

You perk up a little at that and swat at his arm where it’s wrapped around you. “Noo, don’t tell me or it won’t come true!”

Lucas giggles, and his laughter makes your body shake.

“You don’t have to worry about that when it’s already fated.”

[silverkoushi]

haikyuu!! headcanons

⇢ scenario: how you’d spend the holidays with them!! | read pt.2 here! ⇢ feat. : suga, hinata, & kageyama (karasuno) x gn!reader ⇢  wc & warnings: 1.7k, none ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ this is me trying to psych myself up for the holidays aha... thinkin of doing more if i get the inspo and make it in time ><

sugawara koushi ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ the holiday spirit with him is unsurprisingly soft and domestic!! he’s the kind of guy that loves to uphold traditional celebrations like the holidays, your birthdays, new years— things like that because it’s important for him to create memories that you can look back on many years later. you bet the holiday decorations will be up mid-november, so once you see him struggling to hang multi-colored lights along the exterior of your house, you have no choice but to laugh at him at first but eventually help him out!! his cheerfulness and child-like excitement nearing the holidays becomes contagious so the two of you start matching everything: penguin sweaters, (ugly but comfortable) red/green pajamas, mugs that have those cringey couple labels on them— basically, you name it, you and suga have two versions of it to wear/use!! suga would be in an extra-baking mood, too!!

if there’s a holiday party (probably at the school he’s teaching at) that you would be attending with him, suga will volunteer to be in charge of baked goodies! sugar cookies, brownies, donuts with cinnamon sugar, maybe even a raspberry choco cake roll?? the possibilities are endless with your pastry chef of a man, and ofc you make it your duty to help him out in the kitchen!! baking til 2 or 3am, sometimes just goofing off with the flour, cookie dough on the tips of your noses, and suga stealing a kiss (or a lick) here and there. all the while your favorite holiday playlist hums in the background of your colorfully lit home, pictures of the two of you hanging around a tree, santa hats bouncing up and down atop your heads the way you dance everywhere, his arms snug around your waist. while you wait for the last batch of cookies in the oven, suga has already prepared his original hot cocoa for the two of you, making sure he adds extra mini marshmallows in your elf mug tonight— you sit by the couch overlooking the decorated frenzy of your surroundings. and you know you made the right choice spending it with him. :) when the actual party happens, o god the kids love you!! calls you his partner for lifey!! sth cute like that and u don’t know if suga taught them that or they just made it up lol either way, you’re so very excited to see how the love of ur life interacts with his students as, you guessed it, he’s so so good with them!! they run up to him, bouncing up and down just to get a bite of his baked goodies and while he’s handing them out, he also gives them a handwritten card. for each n every one of them!! when did he do that?? you question to yourself, but when he seesn you giving him an incredulous look, he just sheepishly smiles and says, “when you fell asleep on the couch last night, i wrote them last minute.” o,, that’s why when you woke up, u don’t even remember lying down in the bed but you surmise suga had carried you all the way there too :’) 

they sing a lot of holiday songs, play those party games like trip to jerusalem or once the music stops, you have to stop dancing or you’re out type of game and just overall lots of fun filled moments and you feel thankful for witnessing such a pure, innocent sight right around the holidays!! ofc once it’s all done and he bids them goodbye with a hug, a hi five or a pat on the head, suga doesn’t forget about you and puts up a mini mistletoe by the door when everyone had left. he has that teasing smirk on his face and you’d do more than just kiss him bec of it but uh, you’re still in the classroom so you give in with a chaste yet sweet kiss on his lips. he returns it a little deeper, but you push his chest off playfully, and boop! him on the nose. “later, sir,” you reprimand lightly, yet cheeks blushing at your interaction with him in his workplace. he shows that toothy grin, and intertwines ur fingers together as u walk to your car and finally spend more time together again <333 his most favorite part of this season!!

hinata shouyo ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ be prepared for a very hyper and energetic holiday week with this guy!! imagine you two are still in college, he has a break from playing professional volleyball to spend these times with his family. and he chooses to spend most of those days with you!! he is actually very excited to bring you home to meet his mom and (not-so) little sister, and it’s very nerve-wracking knowing that it’s an important holiday for them to be together as a family— and then you’re just gonna crash it like that??? BUT sho doesn’t see it that way! he already sees you as a person he’ll definitely experience even more holidays the next year, and the one after that, but in order to ease up the anxiety that has been building up in your system, he tells you of his extravagant plans for the two of you before going back to his parents’ house!! think amusement parks in the winter, ice skating in frozen lakes, walking on boardwalks with two styrofoam cups of hot choco for him, and a peppermint mocha for you!!

o, and if there’s some downtime with your adventure, he’ll drag you outside where the snow is ankle deep, tells you to take a picture of him in the cold, earmuffs hugging the sides of his temple so warmly that you find so adorable. you’re about to pull your phone out until you feel cold, wet, melting ice smacked onto your cheek!! “SHO, WHAT THE HECK—” you don’t even have time to protest because WHACK, one more snowball, but he missed and it got to your jacket this time. luckily, your phone was still okay but your boyfriend definitely won’t be once you find him as he had started running, your voice calling out to his name in the breezy wind. so that whole afternoon, you were seen having a ridiculous snowball fight around campus (you guys stayed in the dorms until you were ready to leave), laughing when you threw one directly at his open, cackling mouth. shouyo started choking on the snowball, but you were still wiping tears from your eyes at the hilarity of the situation. “STOTPF IM LITERALYLYL DYUINGGG” “don’t be ridiculous” “JDFSKFDJH” and that’s when you actually run towards him, patting his back rather forcefully because oh god what if you did make him choke and his family won’t have a son coming home this time around?!

while you worry in your head, shouyo had already tackled you to the ground, snow engulfing your bodies together. “let’s take a picture here, this is the perfect spot!” he’d chuckle, peppering you with winter kisses, sending shivers down your arms not just because they were cold but also wow, you’re so lucky to be with a guy like him during this season. suddenly, you anticipate meeting his family :)

kageyama tobio

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ you know what you’re very excited for that kags isn’t? his birthday falls on the week of christmas, and any other normal person would just think, “ah, i can just combine his gifts into one!” but for you that’s a big no-no. and kageyama knows it, and he’s flustered and shy because everyone in his life up until the point he’s met you had always just given him a 1 for 2 type of gift. not that he minded, that’s all he’s ever known in his life so when you promised him a big birthday bash and a special holiday gift, he’s scared for what’s to come,,, although, you know he’s not big on surprises or bigger gatherings, but you wanted to see his reaction as to how you planned it all out! in reality, you just wanted to spend precious time with your bf on his bday and an early christmas before he leaves to go visit his family :(

after tiring hours of vball practice and finals (he’s gotten better at studying, don’t underestimate this guy!) he sleeps in on the day of his birthday, not even realizing the night prior he’s turning a year older that day!! you creep up to his dorm with the spare key he has given you, place the milk and berries cake you ordered yesterday on his desk, and surreptitiously clasp the paper birthday hat on his sleeping head. the guy doesn’t even stir!! stifling your laughter, you pull out your phone and snap a picture of him and you together, your lips puckering to kiss his cheek and— you forgot to turn your phone into silent mode! apparently the click was loud enough for his eyes to flutter open, and when he realizes you’re next to him he feels a sense of relief, but at the same time the rubber around his face became bothersome… only when you start singing happy birthday did it dawn on him… and he can’t get mad, it’s you, how can he??

you eat a piece of the milk n berries creme cake on his bed, talking about the day you’re gonna spend with him.. and you ask what he wants to do bec it’s his special day!! this gets him blushing since he thought you had this elaborate party with lots of people come, and now he feels guilty and grateful as to how thoughtful you’re being for him… he asks if he can sneak in a practice session for vball for at least an hour and you agree, guessing that would’ve come up sooner or later. anyway, aside from that his birthday was spent strolling around the town center near campus, snow underneath your boots and snowflakes showering your hair,,, he places his beanie on yours so it doesn’t get messed up and you thank him with a nose kiss… rudolph, is that you??

you take him to shops so you can buy matching sweaters <3 and he OBLIGES, seeing the gleeful expression in your eyes and smile, how can he resist the beauty radiating off you today? this is the best birthday gift he can ask for. you end the day by grabbing some milk tea, spending the rest of the night getting cozy under blankets, and watching cheesy romcoms to which kags just shields his eyes away… the embarrassment!! >< you end up sleeping in his arms, the ending credits with christmas music playing in the background. the next day, you both wear your holiday outfits (he has polar bear and yours is a panda!!) and take lots of pictures bec you know you’ll miss him when he goes back home :(( he immediately makes one of the selfies u took as his lockscreen: the two of you squish yourselves in between the snowman you both created. your face is lit up with utmost happiness, and kags is just looking at you with a loving grin to his smile as well. :)

[toomuchracket]

matty buying you a sexy birthday outfit and then ripping it off of you 🤭

oh my god... this is so fun. buckle up babies, it's a long one

ok so i fully believe matty's the type of boyf to ask you like 5 million times if he can pick out an outfit for you, very like "i love you and i love when you take my outfit recommendations so much but i don't wanna do a kanye and take full creative control, cos your autonomy is so important and besides i always think you look beautiful no matter what you wear" - you're like "matty i've said yes to you picking my outfit for my birthday night out eight times already. i don't even know what i'd pick anyway i've never been to this bar you're taking me to lol" (in my head it's either here, the library bar at soho house's electric house in london, or here at swans bar in maison assouline also in london). and so i think on your birthday you'd wake up to not only breakfast in bed and some flowers and gifts, but to some massive luxury shopping bags perched on the end of your bed beside your extremely excited fiancé (this gives fiancé vibes!), who you take a couple of minutes to berate for spending so much money on you before kissing him and thanking him (because you're lowkey hyped about it lmao). and matty's sensible enough to buy you things you'll be able and willing to wear more than once, so i think he'd probably buy you a cute little black dress (i like this ysl one) and heels (inspo), as well as a handbag and obv some new lingerie. you knew about the latter, because he made you bookmark everything you liked from agent provocateur and send him the links, but you were like "you can pick which set, you're the one who's going to be looking at it and taking it off after all" (which made matty short-circuit lmao) - he's opted for the one you secretly liked best, anyway, so it's all good. but yeah, matty's done well with the outfit choice, mostly due to the fact that he's picked things he knows you'll feel good wearing, which he thinks is the sexiest thing, and he gets all blushy when you give him lots of little kisses and tell him he's done well (praise kink simp that he is).

and you feel SO good about how you look when you go for drinks that night. you spend a fair bit of time on your hair and makeup and getting ready and accessorising, just listening to some good music and generally vibing, and you steal one of matty's leather blazers from his wardrobe when he leaves the room - when he comes back in and sees you ready (without the jacket), he loses all coherent thought and the ability to speak for a little bit, just staring open-mouthed at how incredible you look. and you're smirking like "yeah i think i look alright", and matty's spluttering like "alright? ALRIGHT? you're the fucking pinnacle of beauty, darlin'. 'i look alright?' next clothing item i buy you'll be a pair of glasses. christ", and you giggle and blush and matty comes up behind you to look in the mirror and he's like "seriously, you're gorgeous. far too hot for me. look". and you're like "ok now YOU'RE being blind. you look so handsome in that shirt. and look how good we look together (incredible btw hottest couple alive)! we need to take pictures". and matty's like "oh absolutely" and then he takes like 85849 pics of you both looking sexy as hell (some a little bit risqué, because he's him lol) and another 5838558 pics of you alone (he makes one of you smiling cutely at him his lockscreen) before his phone vibrates to tell him the uber's outside - you quickly grab his jacket and slide it on like "ready!", and matty just closes his eyes and takes a deep breath like "you're trying to kill me, woman. i am going to turn into a puddle of goo because of how much i fancy you", and you're like "ok but could you wait until AFTER we've gone for drinks to do that please lol" and matty's like "whatever the birthday girl wants" and you leave the house (after you've kissed mayhem on the head and told him you loved him lol).

drinks are SO FUN - the bar is incredibly beautiful, the atmosphere is great, and the cocktails are GOOD. you and matty have so much fun picking out drinks for each other and trying them, as well as just chatting shit and kissing at your secluded little corner table. and he just cannot get over how good you look!! he's constantly touching your hand or your leg or putting an arm over your shoulder, almost as if you're some perfect figment of his imagination that'll slip away from him if he lets go at all - between that and the kisses and the drinks and just the incredible way matty looks and smells, though, you get pretty turned on after a couple of hours. and you kiss him slowly and you're like "i really do like this outfit on", and matty's like "fuck, so do i, sweetheart", and you lean in to whisper in his ear like "however, i would also quite like you to take it off, preferably soon". and matty's eyes darken a little bit and he kisses you slightly more roughly, before he says "again, whatever the birthday girl wants. finish your drink, let me settle this bar tab, and then i'll take you home and take that dress off you, darlin'. ok?", and you're like FUCK ok, downing your cocktail and booking an uber for the two of you. and it's a fairly quick drive home, thank god, you kissing matty's neck as he tries to be polite and chat to the driver, before you're hustled out of the car and into the house.

as turned on as you both are, i'm convinced it's a somewhat romantic evening - matty scoops you up bridal-style ("i'm getting my practice in") and carries you to the bedroom. and i think he goes down on you before he's even gotten you out of your dress - sets you down on the edge of the vanity and crouches down to take your shoes off, then thinks "fuck it, i'm down here anyway" before shoving your panties to the side and eating you like you're his last meal, until you're almost crying from the overstimulation of two consecutive orgasms and pulling him up by his shirt collar and undoing the buttons. while you do that, matty's got his hands on your back, pulling the zip of the dress down and coaxing you to step out of it, just as you simultaneously undo his belt and push his trousers down. when you're both in just your underwear, matty steps back to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at you with an interesting mix of lust and total adoration like "you're stunning. i can't believe you're mine" - you giggle and straddle his lap, kissing him before you cheekily say "of course i am; if this is how well you treat me on my birthday BEFORE we're married, i'm so excited to see what you do next year when i'm your literal wife". and that does it for matty - he groans and kisses you passionately, hands going straight to the clasp of your bra and undoing it, before shimmying the garment off you and kissing all over your boobs for a minute then going back to making out with you. he pulls away after a second to be like "i love you. i'm so excited to marry you, and to treat you even better on your birthday next year than i did today. have you had fun, though, sweetheart?", and you're like "i love you too, and i've had the best day ever. you know what would make it better, though?" and matty's like "tell me" - you grind down onto his lap and whisper "if my extremely sexy fiancé fucked me like i've wanted him to for hours". and matty grins and says "don't need to tell me twice", before flipping you both over and fucking you hard and deep and passionately until you're both euphoric and exhausted - after that (and a quick bathroom break and a cup of tea), you snuggle up in his arms and go to sleep, dreaming of the amazing day you had and the amazing wedding you'll have soon <3

[derireo]

bday event fic masterlist

return

none yet!

TENMA SUMERAGI

banzai! ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ tsumugi gives tenma a bonsai tree

the cake.. an imposter ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ izuomi bake a cake for tenma

dumbdumb ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ tenma receives a gift from his crush

double surprise! ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ tenma’s s/o has the same bday as him

emptying the pockets ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ tenma & banri go bday shopping

bonk ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ tenma & reader’s first kiss on his bday

fun day out ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ ouka high students celebrate w/ tenma!

YUKI RURIKAWA

little people ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ muku drags yuki to a sweets shop for a surprise

after marriage, please ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ hand holding isn’t really yuki’s thing

a ball of only women ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ yuki isn’t wearing a dress. all is for naught

lightheaded ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ taichi succeeds in getting a present, but he wasn’t ready to give it

pretty woman ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ azuma is yuki’s model for his new project

score! ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ banri, taichi, and yuki go on a shopping trip

KAZUNARI MIYOSHI

the cake is a lie! ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ cake fight at mankai! watch out, omimi!

sosig ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ kazunari gets a breakfast in bed for his birthday

feelings hidden on canvas ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ each summer troupe member makes an art piece that reminds them of him

where’s his contract, simon cowell ↦ [ slight humor ]

☆ banri, tenma, and kazunari go to a karaokeban for some fun

another takoyaki ball gone ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ you and kazunari try to recreate your first date

giving mads mikkelsen a run for his money ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ you gift kazunari a collage/photo album full of his candids!

uh. pining? dunno what that is. ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ you confess to kazunari that you’ve had a crush on him since middle school.

MUKU SAKISAKA

oh, prince charming! ↦ [ slight humor, fluff ]

☆ banri dresses as a prince for muku

fresh pages worth hundreds ↦ [ slight humor, fluff ]

☆ sakyo & muku shop for manga

the wall have ears (it’s juza) ↦ [ slight humor ]

☆ banri doesn’t know what to get muku for his birthday

liddol puppy ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ birthday pats & praises!

one prince, two prince ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ tenma & muku street acting on his birthday

copper flowers ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ yuki & muku making each other crowns

heart change ↦ [ humor ]

☆ haruto bumps into muku at a sweets shop

BANRI SETTSU

….surprise! ↦ [ slight humor, fluff ]

☆ the a3ders try to surprise banri

family man ↦ [ slight humor, fluff ]

☆ sakyo is being awfully nice

e-boy banri comes to life ↦ [ slight humor ]

☆ yuki decides that today is the day for banri to change it up

the ride home ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ masumi wants to listen to music with banri

more than i wanted ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ s/o surprises him on his bday with the autumn troupe

you askin’ for a fight? ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ s/o wipes icing on his face!

ufo! ufo! ↦ [ humor ]

☆ kazu, taichi, itaru & banri go to the arcade!

bitter sweet tooth ↦ [ humor ]

☆ juza’s grumpy that banri’s got so many sweets for his birthday

attendance: check ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ sakuya and masumi celebrate his birthday at school

JUZA HYODO

macmacmac ↦ [ humor ]

☆ banri tries to make juza macarons in secret

sugary sweet ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ banri is being awfully nice

another surprise ↦ [ humor ]

☆ mankai decides to throw juza a surprise party

the cake saviour ↦ [ fluff, humor ]

☆ there’s a huge cake and they want a picture of juza beside it

papa’s gift ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ sakyo gifts juza a thoughtful present

got a crush! ↦ [ fluff, humor ]

☆ someone gifts him a present with a confession inside

storge ↦ [ fluff, humor ]

☆ kumon and muku follow juza around the whole day, showering him in love

ALL RED. ↦ [ fluff, humor ]

☆ his crush gives him a present for his birthday.

i wish... ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ you grant him three wishes

in gordon we trust ↦ [ fluff, humor ]

☆ you take a masterclass for two with juza

purinpurin ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ juza’s a bit bothered by how much time you’re spending with banri

(stars) in the sky ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ you give him a jar full of notes that praise him

the future is sweet ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ "I want to grow old with you and spend many more birthdays together"

TAICHI NANAO

big bro now little bro ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ headpats for taichi from juza!

personal hair dye specialist ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ kazunari gives taichi hair dyeing and fashion tips

it’s hard to be a man ↦ [ humor ]

☆ taichi just has to know. how did juza get so manly?

flattery gets you somewhere ↦ [ fluff, humor ]

☆ ouka high students give taichi compliments on his fantastic choice of wardrobe!

mankai’s resident dad ↦ [ humor ]

☆ sakyo gives taichi a present.... thanks, bad.

dumb, but he’s got spirit ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ it’s odd... why does your ideal type sound just like taichi?

OMI FUSHIMI

switch it up ↦ [ fluff, light humor ]

☆ juza tries to bake something for omi as thanks for everything he’s done for him.

leaning tower of pisa ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ autumn troupe tries to make a cake. it is... okay.

love outweighs the booboos ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ you make felted puppets of the company for omi. 

shopping...? ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ izumi invites omi out for a day of shopping. or is it a date? (an excuse to see his muscles bulge in the clothes she chooses for him?)

SAKYO FURUICHI

she’s so lovely ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ izumi invites sakyo out on a date, but he doesn’t know.

no manners! ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ sakyo’s got cake on his face and azuma encourages you to get it off.

sike! lmaooo ↦ [ humor ]

☆ banri refuses to personally give his present to sakyo.

ame no dialogue ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ izumi and sakyo get caught in the rain. a confession happens?

peepaw. . . ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ akigumi pretend sakyo is their father for the day and drags a half asleep izumi into the fray.

still a kid ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ yuzo invites sakyo out for a drink when he finds out it’s his birthday

A N I K I ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ an all out birthday bash planned by yours truly, sakoda ken!

cats ↦ [ slight humor ]

☆ sakyo and izumi binge watch some musicals.

club day ↦ [ fluff ]

☆ the shoujo manga club want to celebrate sakyo’s birthday!

mama’s boy ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ izumi spends sakyo’s birthday at his mother’s house.

HISOKA MIKAGE

penpen and friends ↦ [ fluff, humor ]

☆ the winter troupe and izumi bring home some friends for penpen.

a small family ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ izumi brings chikage along to celebrate hisoka’s birthday.

hisoka’s annual competition ↦ [ humor ]

☆ it’s the yearly spooning contest! who’s winter troupe’s lucky winner?

a mystery with no answer ↦ [ hurt ]

☆ hisoka receives a marshmallow plushie from a mysterious gifter.

sweet, familiar face ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ hisoka receives a gift from his crush.

cweam ↦ [ humor, fluff ]

☆ you share your first kiss with hisoka on his birthday.

[lamptracker]

can you pls do a cute lol v day blurb where tom is super focused on the twins bday and kinda forgets about Valentine’s Day? and you like Valentine’s Day so you’re sort of upset but not angry bc you know he didn’t mean to but once he finds out he feels really bad bc he knows how much it means to you. you assure him it’s no big deal and you’re not upset but he does everything he can to make it up to you

You knew this ahead of time. You knew that Harry and Sam were born on Valentine’s Day, and that this year they’d be turning 21. So Tom wanted to make sure they had an epic birthday.

However, as he was deep in the planning stages of their 21st birthday bash, you couldn’t help but feel a slight tinge of disappointment. It was, after all, Valentine’s Day. It’s said that it’s the most romantic day of the year. 

Tom shows you how much he loves you every single day, so you knew it was silly to be disappointed. But you were, a little.

Two hours into the party, you’re on the couch talking to Sam’s girlfriend Elysia. Tom is making his way over to you, drink in hand, when Sam stops him.

“Great party, Tom,” he says. “Hey, what’d you get (y/n) for Valentine’s Day?”

Tom freezes in his tracks. In all his excitement planning this party, getting together with his parents to pick the perfect gifts, even making a playlist... he forgot all about Valentine’s Day.

He forgot all about you.

“I.... oh, shit. Sam, I gotta... I’ll be... I think...”

You look up from your conversation to see Tom, panicking slightly. You chuckle as you make your way over to him. 

“Hey, babe. What’s wrong, huh?”

“I... it’s... I forgot it was Valentine’s Day! I forgot to do something for you! I’m such a shit boyfriend, I...”

You laugh as you gently take his hands in yours. “Tom. It’s okay, really. I’m not mad.. Harry and Sam only turn 21 once, I get it.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise, I... wait, you’re not mad?”

You shake your head. “Disappointed, maybe, but I’m not mad. This is a big day for them, I understand.”

“You are such an amazing girlfriend.” Tom gently presses his lips to yours. “And I’m the worst.”

You laugh again. “You are not. Now, don’t worry about me, go enjoy the party.”

“You’re sure you’re not angry?” Tom’s brown eyes are wide with regret and worry, regret that he forgot about you and worry that you really are mad at him.

“I’m fine, babe, I promise.” You kiss the tip of his nose and sit back down on the couch, resuming your conversation with Elysia. You’re so deep in conversation you don’t notice Tom slip out a few minutes later.

**

After everyone leaves (and you and Tom have scraped a heavily inebriated Harry off the sofa and into his bed), you are picking up the last of the trash in the living room. Just as you’re tying the bag shut, Tom comes into the room.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Got a surprise for you.”

you shoot him a confused glance. “I... huh?”

“I know you said you weren’t angry about my forgetting it was Valentine’s Day,” Tom starts, “but I still felt horrible. So... just come here, yeah?” He holds out his hand, gesturing for you to take it; curiously, you do.

Silently, Tom leads you down the hall and into the bathroom, where you gasp at the sight: Every square inch of surface is covered with candles and rose petals; he’s drawn a bath with your favorite bath bomb. Soft music plays from a Bluetooth speaker.

“Tom,” you whisper, “you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.” He shrugs. “But I wanted to. You mean the world to me, you know? And yes, the twins are important to me, but you’re more than important to me. I love you so much, and today of all days you deserve to know that. Now, go ahead and get settled in the bath, yeah?”

“Oh, Tom. I love you too.” You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you as you capture his lips in a deep kiss. “Why don’t you come in with me, huh?”

Tom raises his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his face. “Well, if you insist.”

[lightskinrry]

Uggggh I need help or someone else’s opinion idk what to do. I currently work in a bakery and I NEED this job to pay for school and my housing and food and my car and phone bills. I’ve looked around and in the area I live in no one is hiring at the moment but I wanna ducking quit so badly. My boss is like a raging racist and homophobe, does not support BLM and has bashed me to my face because I’m bisexual but am dating a girl rn. She also thinks covid is fake, she just threw herself a bday party with 50 people at her house for her 33rd birthday (not even a milestone lmao) and she called me stupid today cause I can’t spend Easter with my dad cause he takes care of my grandparents rn like gets them groceries and drives them to doctors and shit and they’re old as fuck so my dad doesn’t wanna risk anything (which I totally understand) and she says I’m wasting my life cause I’m not hanging with friends and family and going to bars right now. My moms also high risk so I’m being as careful as possible , I only really leave the house for work and my on campus school days , and my gf and I only hang at my place or hers. She called protesters thugs last summer and said that the white guy that killed all those Asian women was just having a shit day probably ??????????????? Anyway, we are so morally different and she makes me so mad when we’re working together but like I need the money rn and idk what to do cause no where else is hiring but like it physically pains my heart and brain to be here with her

HELP!

tw racism tw homophobia/biphobia

First of all I am so sorry you have to deal with this piece of shit every day it must be a really awful work environment ... I would only advise you take this decision carefully if this job is essential to your livelihood it’s best you make sure you have a back up so you don’t end up in a situation that might be even harder for you trust me not being able to make rent/bills etc is terrifying and sometimes sadly it’s best to stay in an unhealthy work environment for just a little longer rather than finding yourself not being able to pay for your necessities now if you have a back up (someone who can help you financially/another job opportunity etc) you should 100% quit!!! And not stay one minute longer with this bitch .

[garrotejima]

Circling him, steps sure-footed across the cracked and bloodied pavement of an idyllic part of town, Zoro reevaluates, appraises the buttoned down look and the Mad Dog's signature grin, and—returns a smile of his own full of terrible, terrible glee. "Oi, oi, heard you're celebratin' something today. C'mon old man, I'll give a free shot since yer gettin' on your years." Gesturing between them, sporting his fair share of bruises, Zoro crooks his finger. // a bday brawl for majima, as a treat

"Ohhh? Lettin’ me enjoy this birthday bash, ain’tcha? Then how ‘bout I show ya how ya really blow a guy’s candles out?” Hahaha. Entendres abound. Majima’s already smarting where his bones jut too thinly at his skin, and yet, for all of his fifty-some years -- winding, they were; are the ‘80s truly gone? -- never has nasty been worn so well, like Givenchy or Armani or Coco Chanel. He undoes his tie. Zoro’s got the chutzpah to rev him to a hundred lightning quick, and his blood's roaring in his skull all thunder-like: thump, thump, thump, it’s pounding. Knock the fool dead! Cracking a bloody grin, Majima, eyeing the split at his lips, throws the tie his way. It’s but a mere second later before he’s following in eagerly himself, still faster than his age should ever allow, and dammit! That frantic glint in his eye, that whisper of mania...! “Got me feelin’ special!”

Kamurocho chimes prettily. It deafens the blow of bone.

[djmashsworld]

3 days to my bday bash!!!😍😍😍 . #prive #shatti #qurum #2020 #music #oman #muscat #bongoflava #remix #new #africa #afrobeats #urban #mix #love #turnup #lit #work #hustle #lagos #newmusic #parties #Event #Jan20 #djmash #turnup #havefun # #beats #studio #madness #remix #birthday (at Seeb, Muscat, Sultanate of Oman) https://www.instagram.com/p/B67noMeHlnj/?igshid=stvfmwhiokzo

[newdawnfarcry]

Far Cry Birthday Bash Gift

Jacob Bunker AU - this is trash I’m so sorry T.T, you deserve better but I tried 💗

Thank you @edensgay for organising this!

Far Cry Bday Bash @fantasmagoriam

Word Count: 1.181k words

Warnings: Swearing

There was a long silence which lasted for almost half an hour, each passing second was torture to her ears. A smell artificial chemicals polluted the dense air and Rose hoped if she breathed it in long enough she’d pass out and finally get some rest. The past few days had been forever ongoing, as if they never ended. In all honesty, neither Jacob or Rose knew when the days had ended and when a new one began. There was no natural light that crept into the bunker and the dust had started to get thicker.

Rose rested her head on the metal bed frame which she was locked up too. Her wrists ached from the heavy steel which weighed them down. Her mouth was dry and Jacob was cautious to feed her, his trust with her had wavered. She wasn’t sure when her next meal was going to be but she was sure it wouldn’t be soon.

The hunger worried her, that last time Jacob had been left hungry he cannibalised Miller. There was a gut-wrenching feeling that the next time her eyes would lose concentration, he would end her life.

Rose lifted her head and looked around the damp room which was only lit with a lantern which looked like it wasn't going to last much longer. Her eyes drifted to the hallway, she heard hard footsteps. Jacob was slowly walking towards her. The closer he got the more unsure she was of him. She wasn't too sure of what he was going to do next. He came close to where she sat, she daren't make eye contact with him, instead choosing to stare at the floor. Jacob said nothing, he uncuffed her and nodded, indicating he wanted her to follow him. Rose didn't want to be alone for the next 6 years even if he's the alternative, she chose that she would just follow him, see what he wanted then go back to her room and go to sleep.

She dragged her tired feet to room Jacob was walking towards, it had a blue glow from the fish tank and an old yellow phone on a wooden desk. "What is it Jacob, it'll be a lot better for both of us if we just keep out of each other's way." She said scratching her neck. Jacob walked towards the splintered table and leant on it. "Hm, you think so?" He said. Rose was staying cautious, what was he playing at? She didn't speak back to him for she wasn't too sure of how to respond. Jacob looked directly at her, "don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you. I know what you're capable of and you know what I'm capable of. However, I called you in here cause we need to talk." Jacob's voice was hoarse and seemed painful. Rose's posture got tense as she crossed her arms on her chest. She picked up a packet of cherry flavoured cigarettes, it had been a few days and the stress with the craving had been killing her. She wanted to quit but the lighter was already up and the smoke was already out. There was a moment when the smoke flashed in front of her eyes that she saw Vera. She remembered her daughter's soft face and she remembered the smile. Now up in smoke.

Rose focused in on the situation and what Jacob had said. A man like Jacob does not talk. "I've seen what we've got and there isn't enough food to last more than 5 years. Do you know if Dutch has any hidden stashes, it's either that or we die in here." Jacob said cracking his knuckles. Rose suddenly realised how little time she had spent in the bunker, and with Dutch in general. She walked around in fear that after the food had run out, Jacob would return to old routine and kill her.

She had been looking for some time, picking up letters from and to Dutch, which were interesting to read. She moved an old cardboard box to the left and saw a little hatch. Her nails managed to get it open. There were quite a few tins of tomato soup, maybe not a years supply but it was better than nothing. "Good I see you've found something," Jacob said from behind. He took the tins in groups of 6 to the bunker's little kitchen. Rose helped out.

Once each tin was put back Jacob looked at her. They had returned to the blue room and Rose was keeping to herself. Jacob sat next to her on the sofa, he wasn't uncomfortably close nor was he uncomfortably too far. They both sat with legs wide apart, Jacob rested his elbows on his knees and Rose leaned back on the chair. Another silent moment passed and Jacob let out a large sigh. She glanced at him and back to the fish tank. "Deputy, If it were up to me you'd be dead now." He said making her feel extremely unsafe.

"I'm not one for God but you can't deny, he was right," Jacob said standing up. He stretched his back and started walking around.

"It's funny, you seemed so sure he was talking shit. And now look at you. Stuck in a bunker waiting for the madness outside to cease." Jacob said. It made Rose sick to her stomach to think that Joseph was right. That fucker, who she wanted to kill so badly turned out to be right all along. Think about how many people were made martyrs of, how things would be different if Marshall decided to turn away. No-one to make Josephs destiny true. But she must admit, it was fun while it lasted.

"Come on deputy, not even a little remorse?" He said teasing her. She gave him a cold look that lasted no more than 5 seconds. "I could ask you the same question." She said standing up close to him.

"Did you enjoy starving people? How about when you made them kill for fun? Or how about when you had your men drug innocent animals huh? How much remorse do you feel for them?" She said, not losing her temper. She remained quiet about it, she knew she was skating on thin ice. One wrong step and she would fall. It was almost more effective when she didn't shout. It left a sinister aura between them. Like God watched them that very second.

Jacob didn't respond for a moment, he knew what she thought of him and understood what it meant for him. This would a very quiet six years.

"Maybe I do. Maybe when I look now back on it I do." The response took Rose aback. That was not what she expected to hear from Jacob. Whose stance was wide and aggressive. "Really? Jacob Seed and regret were not the words I'd put in a sentence but here we are." She said, she took a step back from him and remembered the history of them. Maybe he wasn't the man she initially thought he was.

[saintvintage]

idk y im posting this here but

i’ve had the night from hell. i had said my partner walked out on me yesterday morning. like, he literally walked out the front door with a trash bag containing some of his stuff. he’s a bad alcoholic with so much trauma it’d break your heart. i was angry. i’ve been trying to get him to stop drinking, it’s killing him. he’s got mental illness like you couldn’t believe. i just want him to get better. he drank all night and i caught him that morning, tried to de-escalate by locking myself in the bedroom. told him point blank “i won’t talk to you now. don’t drink anymore. sober up. i’ll talk to you when i wake up” it was about 6-7 am. i don’t sleep well. he had been up all night drinking. he wouldn’t leave me alone. knocked and knocked on the door. i refused to open it. he did this for so long, eventually asked me to let him in to get some clothes. with toothbrush in his mouth, he said he was gonna go to his therapist. it was sunday. i told him. i was angry. i threatened him to get out. he wouldn’t. he kept acting exasperated that  i was upset and wanting him to leave me alone, like he hadn’t done anything. i couldn’t take it. i know i shouldn’t have, but i didn’t know what else to do. i grabbed his arm and pulled him hard to the door, then shoved him with all my might through. he had had enough then. called a good friend of ours to pick him up. friend was going to church, wouldn’t be there til the afternoon i figured. ugly fight in the kitchen. i went out back to cool off. eventually, after he told me he was gonna move out, i went and helped him get his things. i was fuming. i took our pictures down out of the bedroom, told him to take everything. i would be bagging it up anyway. he refused. after he had gone back downstairs with his stuff, i locked myself back in the bedroom. i thought he was going to wait to be picked up. i heard him go out the door, but i thought i heard a voice so i figured he left. no, he did leave, but he just took off walking down the road, down the busy roadway outside our neighborhood. i told my family this and they went out to look for him. wouldn’t tell me where he was. eventually i got him on the phone, telling him my family’s out looking for him, crying and telling him they were worried about him and they love him and he was so drunk he kept interrupting me telling me he was fine, like it was stupid for us all to worry. i heard our friend was with him, so i knew he was going over there now, that he was in a car and off the road on foot. 

i was a mess, understandably. i tried to go out and not think about it. i got through the day alright, but that night was when the real horror started. our other friend, who is 1 friend’s gf, calls me to check on me. apparently she had been over there with them for a while and she told me all the terrible things were going on. he had been drinking hard liquor all day. friend 1 said later that he had probably drank $300 worth of liquor. i eventually got a call from him, and he told me he was going to kill himself. i texted her (friend 2) to tell her to tell her bf (friend 1) to go check on him because he was by himself outside. F1 did, and he hung up on me when it happened. in between the time i hung up and the time i took a call with F2 trying to get more info on what happened that day and generally see what was going on, my partner had gone into the kitchen and tried to slit his wrists. F1 and his brother drew guns on him to make him stopp. idk but it worked. they called the police who called the EMT. he refused to go to the ER (naturally) so it was up to me to go get him. which, the state my partner was in, it would’ve been a disaster. he had been talking shit about me all day, talking like that whenever he was drinking over there, had made the plans to move out already the last time we were there. he had been hitting on any female around (mostly F2 & F1′s bro’s gf) just.... it was a mess. i got my mother, a nurse, and my teenage brother who is a big kid, to go with me. it was horrifying when i got there. he was so drunk it was shocking. i had never seen him like this before. he was trying to get naked (which i also found out from last time we all hung out, i HAD done) the cops weren’t very helpful (shocker) they had been called twice and were gonna leave again if F1′s bro hadn’t said he’d just call back and have them sent out. they were supposed to escort us to the hospital but just drove off. 

partner’s being belligerent, combative, but randomly would get calm. it took a long time, but F1 was able to coax him into the car. child lock on doors and windows. good thing. he tried to get out several times on the ride to the ER. it was going fine until about a couple minutes away he wigged out. it was a literal fight to keep him still. he tried punching the windows out, kicking them, eventually bashing his head into it (there’s blood on my from something and i hope it wasn’t that). he started clawing my brother, tried to knee him, pulled his hair, and i couldn’t help myself but hit him back, try to stop him, it was terrible. when he pulled up, it was three of us trying to subdue him. my mom ran in and asked for “hands” per instruction of F1 who’s in med, a skinny little nurse comes out with a wheelchair. it took me having to scream out help someone help get someone out here to have three men come out there and detain him. i think one of those men might’ve just been a patient or someone in the lobby. as soon as he was out of our grip, he calmed down. i went in with him and checked him in, and talked with everyone a long while about what happened. i’m trying to forgive the flirting and shit-talking because he was drinking. they said he broke his phone, his toothbrush, broke some of their stuff, was trying to fight F1 and his brother, hit on F1′s bro’s gf, did smth to F2 that was inappropriate. it was a nightmare. i called the hospital this morning, and all they could say was he was okay, he was asleep. 

we didn’t leave that hospital until about 4 AM. i feel like i’m in a soap opera. i feel drained. it was awful, seeing him so drunk he couldn’t even talk straight. he glared at me. he mocked me. the hatred he had for me then was terrifying. i’m no saint. our relationship is far from perfect. but i didn’t think he had that much hatred for me in his heart. i think i’m a hypocrite for saying that, because i’ve said nasty things to him that i shouldn’t have. i feel partially responsible. i feel like i’ve failed him somehow. everyone kept telling me to stop apologizing and i wasn’t to blame, but that doesn’t feel true to me. i hate what happened. i hate that i couldn’t help him myself. i hate that i’ve been so mean to him in the past. i know, in essence, this anger and hatred isn’t for me, it’s for the abuse he suffered, but it’s still a painful thing to experience. i’m not mad at him, i’m so pitifully drained and tired and sorrowful i don’t even know who i am. 

now i’m just waiting for him to wake up and call me. i hope he does. part of me is afraid he won’t even want to talk or have me visit. he’s going to have to go in-patient somewhere. i’ve been trying for about 4 years to get a handle on this, to stop the drinking, get him to therapy, research ways to help him. i should’ve been kinder. i shouldn’t have let my anger explode out of me like that.  i’m ashamed to learn of what i did last time we were over there on his bday. what a disaster set of friends we are. i’ve got to learn how to make the both of us healthy. i’ve got to figure out how to get us as independent, healthy-minded people. i’ve got to help him get to where he can fortify himself and heal. i’ve talked myself blue in the face about how his past still haunts him and how he lives in this agony everyday and how he HAS TO process his troubles before he can move on. there’s been such little effort on his part. he blamed me for trying to stop him from drinking, at least that’s what they said he was saying about me. i nagged him. i just am gonna need a distraction and support and i don’t even know what i’m going to say when he calls. i won’t tell him what happened yet. i know for a fact he won’t remember it, and he’ll wake up in the hospital not even knowing how he got there. this is just so sick to me. but i have to help him. if i don’t, no one else will be able to. i’m just so grateful for our friends and my family helping out. if it wasn’t for them, i have no idea what would’ve happened. it wouldn’t been horrible, though. 

[shadow-gate-to-love]

Suggestion: since you obviously worked hard on previous birthday bashes for all the girls you should link back to them on their bdays so people can enjoy your previous hard work

Ngl that might be all I do cuz keeping up with these birthdays is mad stressful lmao