#it has lived in my head for 5 slutty slutty years

[nanoa1foryou]

Ben: Would it help if you screamed my name and I screamed your name? Patty: It might, let's try it out

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

chapter 3.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

The party was at 5, so I made sure to wake up at 3 to get ready. I dug through my closet, romaging around the very bottom drawer where I put the shit I don't wear anymore. I eventually found the dress I wore to homecoming my senior year. To say it was slutty would be an understatement. I was against wearing it at first, but why not go into the new year with a bang. Ew, I hate that. 'with a bang.' whatever. I slipped on the dress and it fit better than it used to.

I did my usual makeup, just adding eyeliner and darker lipstick to match the dress. I pulled out my phone and texted johnnie.

y/n: ready when you are

johnnie: alr, me and Jake should be on our way soon I think, idk

y/n: lol ok just lmk when you're here

johnnie: ofc :))

I slipped on the beat up converse I've been wearing since middle school and waited in the living room for them to get here. I was a little nervous for the party.

my phone dinged.

johnnie: herrrreeeeee

I read his message and ran out the front door.

Who I assumed was Jake sat in the front seat, while Johnnie leaned against the car facing me. "hey." I smiled.

his eyes grazed over my whole body. "you look really good."

"thank you." I smiled, tilting my head down towards him. he was wearing a pair of ripped, black skinny jeans with a white button up that he didn't tuck in. Something clicked in me, maybe because he was wearing something other than pajama pants, but I shoved that feeling down.

he smiled sweetly and opened the backdoor for me. I hopped in and was quickly followed by johnnie. "Damn, Johnnie, leaving me to sit in the back of my car with a pretty girl."

"shut the fuck up, fuck face." he rolled his eyes.

"sorry, we've never really met. I'm jake." He reached over the seat and stuck out his hand.

I shook it. "I'm y/n. it's really great to meet you. Johnnie has talked about you."

"yeah, talked shit." Johnnie joked.

"Johnnie has talked about you too." Jake replied nonchalantly. Johnnie's gaze quickly met Jake's. He gave him the death stare before returning to his phone.

"you've never been to a party?" Jake asked me, beginning to drive off of my street.

"yeah, my parents kind of kept me locked in a cage my whole life." I looked out the window, watching as snow began to fall to the ground. The bright white snow contrasted against the dark sky, making it extremely visible.

"you're going to have the night of your life." Jake said with a southern accent.

I turned to look at johnnie, who was still on his phone. I admired the way his dark makeup contrasted against his pale skin. ill admit, he was just as gorgeous as the snow. I smiled slightly to myself before responding to Jake, mimicking his accent. "Let's hope so, little missy."

johnnie looked up at me with a goofy smile on his face. he had a certain look in his eye that I couldn't quite read. my stomach errupted with butterflies. I was usually able to read anyone, it didn't matter if I knew them or not. Johnnie was different, and it was confusing.

Jake had turned up the radio and I looked back out the window, racking my brain for what that look was for. was it because I was being funny? was I getting along with Jake more than he liked? was he happy I was getting along with jake? I came up with every possible answer, but none made sense. whether positive or negative, why would he look at me like that?

we eventually arrived at the party, parking down the street from the house. "I'm going straight for the drinks." I commented. "I will never be the one to turn down free alcohol."

"I second that." Jake said, sticking up his pointer finger and pursing his lips.

loud music radiated from the house. it was still decorated for Christmas. lights were strung all over the house while the roof held a porcelain Santa and reindeer.

I grabbed Johnnie's arm. "Look! no one told me Santa was still in town!" I made a shocked face.

he began to jump up and down. "oh my god, Santa! Jake, it's my dad!" he said in a childlike voice.

"you're finally reunited!" Jake patted his back, making two rough slapping sounds.

we waited on the doorstep while Jake was talking to someone out on the yard. "it's nice seeing you not so stressed because of your job."

"I guess I do seem pretty stressed." I admitted. "but I do love my job."

"still, I've never seen you in something other than jeans and a t-shirt with an apron." he smiled.

"well, I've never seen you in anything other than pajama pants. you look very-" I paused, thinking of a not so obvious word to describe him. "good. sorry, I'm not the best with compliments."

"it's the thought that counts." he playfully nudged me.

"A for effort, I guess." I rolled my eyes at him.

"those shoes look like they've been through hell and back." he looked down before making eye contact with me again.

"I mean, technically they were. I wore them in middle school." I kicked a rock out from under my foot.

"I dropped out in middle school." he snickered as Jake walked up to us.

"Sorry, guys. the ladies love me."

"I'm sure they do, jake." I replied sarcastically.

[goaliekisses]

we had a breakdown over some Unwholesome slutty sid content yesterday so here’s some wholesome content from the athletic on sid

It was 2016 in Minnesota and an aggravated coach Mike Sullivan was searching for the captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins following a loss to the Wild. Sullivan needed to speak with Sidney Crosby and was walking briskly on the event level of Xcel Energy Center.

Then, he stopped in his tracks.

Around the corner outside of the Penguins’ locker room, Crosby, minus his jersey but otherwise still wearing his equipment, was sitting on the floor. Speaking with a child in a wheelchair, Crosby sat so that he could better make eye contact. He often does this. Sullivan executed a U-turn while his captain sat with the child for 20 minutes, a scene that unfolds countless times across North America every season.

Thousands upon thousands of people have flocked to arenas for decades to watch Crosby play hockey since was a boy. Crosby’s greater mission, though, has always been to comfort the sick and unlucky among us with an uncommon grace and thoughtfulness that is uniquely his own.

“There’s never been anyone like him before,” former Penguins general manager Jim Rutherford said. “And there will never be anyone like him after.”

The widely held belief that the world of professional sports doesn’t showcase any authentic role models is inaccurate so long as Sidney Patrick Crosby walks among us.

“You always hear that saying,” Bobby Orr said. “You know, that so and so is a better person than he is a player. Well, the great thing about Sid is, he’s one of the five greatest players in history. There’s no question about that. But he actually is a better person than he is a player. Now, think about that. I love him.”

On the ice, he is a living legend. The massive legs, the impenetrable ability to protect the puck, the greatest backhand ever, the cannon-like burst of speed through the neutral zone, the rare playmaking ability, the tenacity, the intelligence, the determination, the precociousness as a teenager, the longevity as a thirty-something and the ability to score goals on hockey’s biggest stage are all indelible trademarks of his greatness.

The mythology of Crosby off the ice, however, may be even more worthy of inclusion in the history books and it is very much rooted in reality. He’s not just an ambassador for hockey, but an ambassador of kindness.

“He was like that even as a little boy,” said Troy Crosby, his father. “He was getting so much attention when he was little, and then as he became a teenager. It could have gone to his head. He could have gotten a big ego. All Sidney ever cared about was taking care of other people.”

Crosby made his NHL debut on Oct. 5, 2005, in New Jersey. It was a zoo after the morning skate. Hockey was back after a year-long lockout, Crosby’s debut was being made in the New York area against Hall of Fame goaltender Martin Brodeur and it was Mario Lemieux’s 40th birthday. While he was the center of attention, Crosby, who had turned 18 two months earlier, wasn’t concerned about himself.

“He was giving these interviews and there were people everywhere” said Tom McMillan, the former Penguins’ vice president of communications. “But he noticed, in the hallway outside of the locker room, that his mom was being surrounded by reporters. He was worried about her. She was fine, but he was worried about her. So he comes up to me and says, ‘Hey, can you make sure my mom is OK?’ From the very beginning, he was worried about everyone but himself. He never changed.”

Including his salary and endorsements, Crosby has earned in the neighborhood of $200 million in his career. His father isn’t the only one who says Crosby hasn’t changed. His teammates agree. Team employees agree. Even living legends like Orr agree.

There is a simple explanation for this, Crosby insists.

“I don’t think money ever gives you the vehicle to treat anyone differently or to be disrespectful,” he said. “I get to do what I love to do and I’m very appreciative of that. I don’t take that for granted one bit, regardless of what my pay is. I get to do what I love. The least I can do is treat people well along the way.”

Crosby’s legend in the Penguins organization is such that his contributions to society draw biblical comparisons.

Literally.

“I always say that he’s like a child of God,” former Penguins broadcaster Paul Steigerwald said. “That’s how I’ve always seen him. He has a certain light in his eyes that I always notice. He’s a genuinely good soul. People often give credit to a person’s parents for raising a great kid. I totally get that and they did a great job. But I also see a natural soulfulness to Sid that is innate and not necessarily learned.”

Crosby is a role model, and he knows it. He embraces it.

“I’ve been around a while and I’ve met a lot of people,” Rutherford said. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He only does things for the right reasons. And he cares about people so very much. Other players of his stature don’t always act like this. But he’s different. And you see it most when it comes to the way he treats children.”

The Penguins are the NHL’s oldest team, thus, many players have children. During the Stanley Cup years in 2016 and 2017, it was commonplace for Matt Cullen’s children to be hanging on Crosby after playoff wins, as they would naturally gravitate to the best player in the world who just happened to be the nicest guy in the room.

Crosby, in fact, has been known to have spirited mini-sticks games with Nikita Malkin. And yet, his treatment of children isn’t confined to the children of his teammates.

One story lives in Crosby lore.

It was Jan. 11, 2014. The Penguins had just won in Calgary, 2-1, in the weeks leading up to the 2014 Olympics in Sochi. After the game, the Penguins departed to their bus on a frigid Alberta evening.

While sitting on the bus, Crosby noticed a handful of teenagers standing behind a fence, which was located on a steep hill beside the Saddledome. They were chanting Crosby’s name and had signs wishing him well in the Olympics.

Upon seeing this, Crosby, dress shoes and all, sprinted up the steep, icy hill. He not only signed all of their jerseys but talked hockey with them for a few minutes before slowly coasting back down the hill.

“I’ll never forget seeing that,” Steigerwald said. “Who else does that?”

Not many people would do such a thing, it can be presumed. But Rutherford saw it every day while he was the general manager of the Penguins.

“The way he treats children is the single most impressive thing I’ve ever seen in my career,” Rutherford said. “When you see those groups of people who want autographs, you have to be careful. A lot of those groups have people that are there every day and looking to sell autographs. But I’ll tell you this about Sid: Never, not one time, has he ever passed by a child who wanted an autograph. No child is ever left behind. I’ve seen him sign autographs and then get on the team bus. Then, he sees a kid pop up who didn’t get his autograph signed. So, he always gets off the bus and makes sure the kid has an autograph and a picture with him. He understands the effect he has on people, but he’s the farthest thing from arrogant you could possibly imagine.”

Crosby is a regular at the UMPC Pittsburgh Children’s Hospital. While the Penguins do occasionally orchestrate team visits that Crosby naturally takes part in, he’s a regular at the hospital. He does so on his own time.

No cameras. No reporters. No attention.

“I’ll be honest with you,” Troy Crosby said. “That’s the way he wants it. It means a lot to him to spend time with kids, just him and the kids. He doesn’t want people knowing about it and he goes to lengths to keep it that way.”

Crosby seems miffed when others are blown away by his character. To him, to be polite, generous and thoughtful is simply natural.

“Treating people the right way has always been important to me,” Crosby said. “Whether it’s your teammates, people you see at the rink, fans, kids, whatever. You’re supposed to be good to people in life. You’re supposed to be respectful. So, that’s what I try to do every day. It’s always been a very important thing to me.”

[becauseheartsgetbroken-hs]

Masterpost pt.2

Hey there! So this is part two! 💞

| Collages |

Harry and button up shirts

Harry boxing

Mulletrry

Harry in autumn vibes

Harry is a ray of sunshine

Harry is a muse

Something in the way Harry walks..

Harry and his t shirt collection

Harry and his slutty shorts

Harry wearing his sunglasses on his head

Harry with kids

Harry never beats the main character allegations

Harry in a jumper

Harry and Stevie Nicks

Italyrry (new edition)

Harry's expressions

Harry's cute head pt. 2

Harry and that one ring

Harry as Alex

Harry as Jack Chambers

Harry as Tom Burgess

Harry in Italy (the famous yacht day)

Weddingrry

Harry and that pair of sunglasses

Harry in Italy (chaotic version) pt. 2 pt. 3

Harry at the Capital's Summertime Ball 2022

It's not the same as it was

Harry is adorable and that's a fact

Harry and his boots

Harry in tank tops

Harry's big hands

Harry entering his 30s has been nothing but a constant realization of how beautiful he is

Harry's Photoshoot

Harry at the My Policeman premiere

Harry's an old soul

Japanrry (harry and his friend kunichi)

HS1 is 7 years old

Softrry pt. 2 pt. 3

Harry's House is 2 years old pt. 2

Harry's arms pt. 2

Harry's back

Harry wearing his vans pt.2 pt.3

Harry at Venice Festival

Harry's two moods

Harry for Another Man pt.2

Harry for Gucci’s Cruise 2019 Men’s Tailoring Campaign

| Gifs |

| Harry's Gifs |

Made in the a.m. pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

Wet Harry

Harry's hands pt.2

Harry on Beauty Papers

Harry's nose

Harry boxing

Long Haired Harry pt.2

Harry being cute pt.2

One Direction- Live Lounge

Love on Tour- Manchester n.1

Love on Tour- New York n.1

Live on Tour- London

Harry joining Lizzo

The three stages of Harry realizing that he hit a fan with a bottle

| Narry Gifs |

Made in the a.m. promo interview pt.2

MITAM promo

Jimmy Kimmel rehearsal

This is us promo

Narry being besties pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

Narry hugs pt.2

Narry being dorks

Narry being cute

Narry in b&w pt.2 pt.3

[myfaveisfuckable]

Captain Jack harkness:

No bury your gays, immortal omnisexual. Kill him and he gets back up and keeps fuckin. The only dr who character with game. He’s immortal, he’s a criminal, he’s a spy, he’s from the future, he’s American, he turns into a giant head and lives for millions of years, he’s omnisexual, he’s a terrible boss, he’s a fixed point in time. Girly is everything.

* He mentioned being pregnant?

Ace:

Ace is trans To Me and also an icon. Has slutty bisexual vibes and by the number of fanfics you can tell a big portion of the fandom wants him carnally. He also has fire powers which is the coolest power ever. I want to give a hug to every artist who draws Ace as sexy and with tits out (aka the way he should be drawn).

* not proven to not have one* canon in my heart

[msmargaretmurry]

Hello hello, I am intrigued by this vampire Leon idea (what are Mtkachuk's slutty ripped shirts and bitable neck for if not sinking teeth into, hmm?) and I was wondering if there were any other ideas re: vampire Leon or other Matthew/Leon plot bunnies or WIPs you felt comfortable sharing! Also, are there any other characters/ships that have grabbed your attention and you are thinking of writing about (or just thinking about?) After HAW I am of course having oblivious disaster Brady/mournful Quinn (why does he always look Like That, like he's a trusting kitten someone abandoned in a rainstorm who has had to learn far too quickly that the world is a cruel and heartless place) feels, and now we have Drouin/MacKinnon reunion, and Matthew/the rest of the NHL b/c he is also Like That, Brock Boeser/joy, etc etc etc and I would love to hear who's been occupying your thoughts lately!

hello anon!! thank you for this nice message! in case you missed it, i have now posted some vampire leon thoughts here and here, i hope you enjoy them ❤❤

i started grad school this fall so i have tragically not had the time/energy to write much, but i have done a LOT of rotating ideas and concepts on the hot dog roller of my mind. the main matthew'leon one i have right now is a futurefic set at the very ends of their careers (because sometimes it takes that long for it to be the right place and the right time). i am really interested in the very complicated feelings that come with a professional sports career coming to an end, not entirely on your own terms, and facing down the scary reality of the next phase of life, so i hope that i can eventually do something with that. the other, less serious one is a fantasy au based loosely on robin hobb's farseer trilogy — not really following the plot of it or anything but stealing the worldbuilding and magic system and some of the court intrigue concepts to put my guys into situations. it is quite silly but it's fun for telling myself bedtime stories.

other than them, i am at all times feeling brady/quinn feelings. obviously there is the brady/quinn HAW sequel, with poor pining quintin and oblivious brady finally figuring their shit out after only 5–8 business years. and i have my eldest daughter quinn hughes cisswap fic, which i know isn't everyone's cup of tea but i am having so much fun with it and that's the important thing. (eldest daughter quinn hughes anon, i see your follow-up message and i will reply soon!)

mackinnon/drouin reunion — absolutely living for it. deeply deeply want multiple people to write long angsty feelingsly second chance romance fics. would prefer for those people to not be me because i have enough on my plate already 😂

matthew/the rest of the nhl — look, i am a not an OTP kind of girl no matter how much i love a ship, i will ship widely and voraciously. love thinking about a nice long slow burn with matthew and sasha falling in love over the course of matthew's first season in florida, from matthew signing all the way through the stanley cup final. LOVE thinking about matthew/quinn concepts because who doesn't love a story about sneaking around with your best friend's hot older brother. honestly would love to hear about other people's matthew ships OR leon ships. i love to contain multitudes.

brock boeser/joy — my sweet boy 😭😭😭 he deserves a great season so much. i'm so happy for him and proud of him. way back on the backburner i do actually have a brock/petey futurefic idea that i really love, and also in general love pondering concepts involving any pairings or moresomes from the canucks polycule (brock, petey, quinn, thatcher, and i guess beau is kind of in there now too, or at least as much as he can be while mourning his lost long island love).

honestly this is all pretty much where my head is right now! other than thinking about the dark comedy that has been the start to the caps season (bless their hearts) and the absolute clownshow that is the nhl (welcome back pride tape!). thank you for the ask though, this was fun to reply to! ❤

[thebestestbat]

@twinkubus tagged me in a writing project game a long time ago, thank u! im gonna focus on original work for this bc ive been getting back into that and im excited....

im going to tag @hyumjim, due to heavily references to our catboy world

1: what are you currently working on? 

i am mostly working on RPs right now! the main one is what the tag #bread cats on this blog is about. my character is named doe and he is a catboy. then the other RP is in the much shorter tag #dragon elfs, where my character, chassis obeisance, is a cyberpunk elf who wants to become a dragon.

also! i want to get back to a writing project with @twinkubus which is for elf erotica (#fucky elfs).

the other things ive been meaning to get back to are:

horror story about being a shitty older brother and childhood trauma (surprise)

necromancer wartime erotica

2: summarize your current project 

let me go with the necromancer wartime erotica. this is about a bunch of dudes of various young ages (19-35) being sent as offerings to a necromancer for protecting a collection of villages from the most recent clash between two warring empires. the necromancer is sexy.

3: summarize your current project poorly 

bunch of guys from different villages have to band together to fuck a necromancer to keep him from fucking the teenager who wants real bad to fuck the necromancer

4: describe your favorite character or characters

i quite like doe, who is a catboy whose greatest childhood wish was to work in a textile factory but he grew up to be a thief. he is part cougar. he never had a mom. he has recurring nightmares of being in a building that is burning down, and now any time he has a dream with fire he immediately knows its a dream. most of his closest friends are slutty and he is a virgin. he thinks about sex all the time. he has never been kissed! he is afraid that if he has sex something very horrible will happen to the world. he can read and write but not very well.

5: post a line from your current project without any context 

It was as if the thoughts were placed into his head by something else, pressed into the grey mush of his brain until they stuck there.

6: how do you get through writers block?

not writing for a while, and reading more things / watching more things.

7: would you want to live in the world of your current work? 

i would not like to live in catboy world. elf cyberpunk world would be great though because i could become a dragon

8: briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline 

i don't outline... i sometimes do timelines and character descriptions to keep track of worldbuilding, like for the necromancer story. i learned these skills, especially the timelines, from playing The Quiet Year by Avery Alder

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project?

here is a picture i have saved for the necromancer idea.

10: what song sums up your current work the best?

moving to catboy RP, the song i listen to on repeat to write that is paranoid by black sabbath. modern au doe, whom i think about also, has bad music taste.

[unnursvanablog]

The Euro songs we have lost, part two.

Now the national final season has ended and so the carnage of the eurovision national final season has come to an end, where so many of people's fav songs didn't get into eurovision... which will still be an amazing show in Liverpool regardless. It's a diverse lineup, it should have something for everyone which is what it should be about, because eurovision is about togetherness and enjoying some music and the staging is probably going to be fire. It's going to be such a well produced show.

And while we did loose a lot of good songs that did not make it all the way to eurovision, we can always just bop to them on your playlists. Now we just celebrate all the songs that we lost and cherish them forever.

Benjamin - Hoida mut: One day I actually want one of these "slutty synth song in Finnish" to actually win UMK and go to eurovision. When will Erika Vikman return?!! but it didn't happen this year, just like it didn't happen for cicciolena or Kuuma jäbä. I adored this song from the very first listen. I love synth and 80s sounds so of course I was extatic about this. The live could have been better, but this was a bop and a half.

KUUMAA - Ylivoimainen: we got a lot of bands this year in eurovision, but not many of the good ones that I was rooting for. This song is maybe a bit too low-key and monotone both in the video and on stage. But it has a good beat and the chorus has been stuck in my head since the release. It's a banger on spotify.

Ruta Mur - So Low: Idk what europe has against synth this year, but pretty much non of those songs made it through to actual eurovision. For the last three years Lithuania has been in either my top 5 or top 10 in eurovision and I've been quite impressed by how much risk they've been taking. And So Low by Ruta Mur was a song I thought would be interesting and would stand out on stage in Liverpool. It's a lowkey song, but in a good way.

Silja Rós & Kjalar - Ég styð þína braut: A duet in Icelandic has always worked well for us (Iceland) in Eurovision, so the statistics were with us in this song. It's dreamy and beautiful and I feel like with a little polish when it comes to staging it could have flourished and stood out in Liverpool. It would have been more of a risk, added more to the lineup than Power did.

Celebs - Dómsdags dans: Ah, glimmerdómsdagsskrímslið my beloved. I love this song. To me it was the best song in söngvakeppnin and I would rather have picket it than Power because it is just more risky, it's more of a show on stage, it's more fun... which is what I want out of Eurovision.

Jann - Gladiator: The people of Poland has taste, but not the jury (as always, fuck the jury). This would have been different, it would have been a risk that was bold and would stand out. Jann is a promising young artist and I know that one day he will make it to eurovision... even if this is much more a song that maybe Ukraine would send than Poland. Hopefully one day he will just represent San Marino... or Poland can just get it together. This would have been a moment in Liverpool.

Filip Baloš – Novi plan drugi san: This is a better song than the one that won the Serbian nf final... but the other one had much better staging imho. So I am happy about Serbia's choices for Eurovision because I love good or interesting staging. But this one is great as well. Both would have added something to the final lineup.

Tone Sekelius - Rhythm of My Show: this was been a lackluster Melfest tbh and this song is just one of these nice melfest pop songs that are always in the competition and are just nice. Tone is really charming on stage and it was a really good performance even though she may not the best dancer. The staging does do so much for the song, which is a bit basic... but that's how many Swedish Eurovision songs are. Nice, basic pop that is staged very well. And I am not that mad about it.

Jon Henrik Fjällgren - Where You Are (Sávežan): If this was a Keiino track it would have been more charming of a song and just a bit... better. But I still really like Jon Henrik Fjällgren and his songs in Melfest, even if this one is my least fav of his entries. His part in the song is what makes the song not bland. But this is a little different, but still good Swedish pop, for melfest so I respect it. It's very Keiino-esque, but I don't mean that in a bad way.

Marcus & Martinus - Air: I don't really understand why these Norwegian twins were in Swedish national selection when they could have so easily destroyed the competition in Norway with this song. This is again, a really good, well produced pop song from the Swedish pop machine. It's well staged, it does get stuck in our head but it's nothing new. This would also have been good entry for Eurovision, but would have had no chance of winning. But who cares. Eurovision isn't all about winning. It's about enjoying the show.

Emil Henrohn - Mera mera mera: This was never going to get out of its semi, although I had my hopes up for andra chansen (which is no longer andra chansen). This is just such a Swedish schlager that might have had a chance in 2003… but not today. Songs like this, as much as I love them, don't do very well in Melfest. But for me this is the best song in Melfest after Air and Tattoo.

part one

[bitterunicornwisdom]

When I was taught Japanese, I was taught a lot of weird things about the word "no" that were very culturally different than in my culture (dirty low-context culture American).

They'd say, "No is too forceful. Instead of saying いいえ (no) say それはちょっと。。。 (that's a little.../that's... well...). The listener will understand that you're politely indicating a No and will drop the subject and possibly apologize for making the request, since it was their fault for not reading the signs that you may not be interested in what they're offering."

One of my female Japanese friends would tell me that during sex when the woman says No, that "いいえってはい" AKA "no means yes". Which is fucked up to Americans, but for Japanese women, wanting or liking sex is considered unbecoming and slutty. So they say "イヤ!" or "ヤ!" or "ヤダ!" or "ダメ!" (informal no, no, don't wanna, and it's wrong) during sex as a way of saving face. OBVIOUSLY this isn't great, it perpetuates rape culture in Japan, but it's something I HAD to get over when I would get with with Japanese women while I lived there. I'm a lesbian! We were having lesbian sex, and they would still say it.

The Japanese language and culture has rules for stuff like this that they teach from a very young age directly and indirectly. I was a teacher in Japan for five years, I would see kids get in big trouble for not reading the room and not following all these rules. I would get in trouble on occasion for not reading the room, even though I didn't speak Japanese fluently and I had no idea what was going on.

Example: I got stuck in an after-hours all teachers meeting. After an hour and a half (mind you, it was like 7:30PM and my contract only required me to be there till 4:30PM), I quietly excused myself. I bowed my head, bowed apologetically to everyone I pass in silence, hunched over in shame, silently opened the door and closed it while bowing profusely. APPARENTLY, one of our students had DIED OF CANCER and I had left while the teachers were discussing how to approach the rest of the students with the news and how to honor boy and his family at graduation. Some of the teachers complained about how disrespectful I was. More teachers thought it was reasonable that I left, but there was still grumbling from the more traditional teachers.

So I imagine Toshiro growing up, the oldest son of a warlord, having to follow all these rules, bending over backwards his entire life trying not to bother anyone. And in bounds Laios, not a single fuck given about any of that, completely steamrolling Toshiro constantly. Watching their fight gave me flashbacks to all the times I had to consciously avoid "ruining the harmony" in Japan when I really wanted to say or do something. I felt like I couldn't be authentic and honest and up-front.

Example: Standing in the back of the classroom, looking out the window at the butterflies in the goya flowers, trying to ignore the POS newbie teacher yelling at his homeroom 10% because they were goofing off a little, but 90% because he hadn't had a cigarette break in 4 hours. I couldn't say anything, I couldn't bring attention to myself, I couldn't leave, I just needed to pretend to not exist. Otherwise I'd undermine his authority. I wanted to ring that teacher's skinny little neck and tell him to leave the poor 14 year olds alone. They were having fun during English class!! That's a good thing!!

Another Eample: Seeing a salaryman on the train hit his subordinate multiple times for fucking something up earlier in front of a client. The train wasn't empty, everyone just looked at their phones and ignored the commotion. My friends and I whispered to one another in English if we should help the guy, or if that would make it worse. I wanted to tell the guy to fuck off and leave the man alone.

When I came back to America after living in Japan for 5 years, it took me a while to stop trying to read the room to gauge how to talk and act. Americans don't want you to act like that to the degree that Japanese people want you to, it's more of a pain in the ass to them because you should just be able to tell people what you want or need. Making yourself as small as possible just to avoid possibly rocking the boat isn't an ideal trait here.

Toshiro and Laios' fight really hit me with both context systems I had to navigate while living in Japan. Navigating the differences between their communication styles doesn't have a right or wrong side. I was actually impressed that someone like Toshiro was able to be honest, and was glad Laios' finally learned what Toshiro really thought of him (even if it initially hurt his feelings). At least they're on the same page now.

Anyways, uhhhh, yeah. The mangaka is Japanese. The fact that she's aware of both sides is great, and I love seeing a popular manga/anime outright address it from both sides.

My stance on Shuro discourse

[mostlymalena]

October 14th 2024 10:04am

I'm at Coffee Time for old times sake, and the sake of time. On Monday's I take bunny Jo to school and pick her up so sitting here is more efficient than Ibis.

I have had the best week in a while. Yesterday was out of a movie.

I woke up and got Waffle House with Ethan and then we got home and bottle flipped and did cartwheels with O outside for like two hours lmao. After I laid out a blanket and me and Ethan watched an episode of SVU. Hayday came back into town until Tampa is done being rained on, so he came over and Dylan joined and we all played bad mitten in the back yard for a while. It was so fun. We all just hung out outside and on my porch for like 6 hours haha. We had dinner and then everyone left and Brooklyn Bridge came over and we watched SVU till 2:30 am hehe. It was perfect.

The past week has been so fun as well. Thursday me and apple boy hung out and ran errands and such together. We lounged in the park and watched someone do a halloween shoot with purple smoke and everything haha. I went to beach bars that night dressed in a trench coat, head scarf, and big sunglasses. It was so fun!! I don't drink at the bars so I was being a lunatic for the plot I guess. Friday I spent most my day at concord with Jo and apple boy met me there. He taught me a new games called Go which was basically connect 4 but on a grid and you connect 5. I beat him in that and then we played a round of chess that I also beat him in. He is good at chess and I think he could be better than me if he played with someone else besides me haha. He snuck a film picture of me, well knowing him he did not care if I noticed or not. I did notice. I wonder if he will ever show it to me. I know he has taken pictures of me before and most of them I will never see.

Saturday night we went to a Brat dj set my friend put on a Palate. Jo and I have grown to enjoy Palate during the day. Anyways I wore something I NEVER wear. I'll add pics:

It was slutty ngl but it was the vibe of the night and hell I never wear a bra so YOLO. Anyways me and the gang go to the show and Grace is there. I, of course, instantly get sick LMAO. But we did not talk but we did look at each other. I also did blonde brows for that look and they are growing on me NGL. A lot of people told me a while back not to dye them bc I wanted to so bad and my boyfriend at the time told me I would look ugly so I didnt but COME ON. I think it looks sick.

I was a little upset seeing Grace of course, especially since she got into a relationship so quickly after she tried to patch things up with me. Bay is the best at talking me out of my head when it comes to that. She tells me I am much calmer and happier and I have to agree. My life is calmer and happier. It also sucks bc for 9 months it was chaos and I thought something was wrong with me because of that.

Im so excited for my halloween party!!!! It's going to be so so so fun. I have to remember to write everyday bc if I don't I'll forget the fun little details that make my life worth it all.

25 has been the best year of my life honestly. I'm so excited for 26 and beyond. I'm so glad I was unsuccessful at my suicide attempts when I was younger.

I want to live a long time.

Thats all for now, gotta review applicants for a content creator I'm hiring. Idk if me and apple boy are hanging today school is busy for him. I havent told him when I'm leaving, gonna Irish goodbye it.

[fruitbatvalentine]

Posting my MH OC's because I care about them So Much. They're part of my Valentine Redemption AU that I'm currently working on getting out of my mind palace and into writing form.

Ruairi Bloodgood

Son of Headless Headmistress Bloodgood and another OC, Tavish Bloodgood (Vampire from Scotland)

Pinterest board

18years old

5'6" 

Half vampire, half? Headless horseman?? ig

Dating Aero 

When he's pissed off or stressed out, his Scottish accent is THICK. Like who tf knows what he's saying. Only his father could possibly comprehend. He usually doesn't have much of an accent due to being raised in the U.S. and having one parent without an accent. It's like there but also not.

Lives at home with Bloodgood and vampire dad. 

Has his own demon horse named Darknyss

Can and will launch his head across a room for any or no reason at all.

Drinks blood

His head does come off but also because he's half thing-that-has-head-firmly-attached, it's this gross flesh tearing, little bit bloody mess. Doesn't hurt at all though. He usually has to stitch it back on to hold it in place. The stitches are a mostly permanent fixture because he rips it off so often. It takes about 1 1/2 - 2 weeks to heal back together completely. He can go maybe 5 days without ripping his head off if he tries.

He has zero reservations about ripping his head off and throwing it at someone (tearing sounds are horrific, he's flinging blood everywhere. Usually results in Jackson throwing up if he's around.)

He and Abbey are basically siblings. Abbey lives with them during the school year.

He can be very boisterous, and loud but knows when to chill out.

incredibly horny. Very slutty. "But only for you, babe." (Also super believes in enthusiastic consent. He will violently kill anyone who doesn't understand consent. Has been held back from ripping a classmate's dick off once before due to them making unsavory comments.)

Aero

Son of Raven and Crow shapeshifters.

Pinterest board

18years old,

5'10"

Goth King

First person Kieran befriends. They bond over dark attics, gothic literature, and having shitty parents.

Likes to bring his friends little gifts/trinkets/shiny things he finds.

Enjoys Visual Kei a Normal Amount.

Has and will jump out fifth story windows because he saw something shiny in the grass and needs to go get it.

*Returns with a paperclip.* "Found this for you :)" 

Literally just me if I was like. 10% more unstable and had shit parents.

"Quit your job." "What?" "Join my band"

Plays the drums in a band with Claire and another OC who will be in another post. Think like, TOOL or Puscifer +

He ran away from home and made his way to MH after hearing rumors about it being very open and accepting. Upon enrolling, he was given a dorm in the clocktower.

Thought it was insanely hot when Ruairi attempted to maim a classmate for being pervy and disgraceful. Fully supported ripping that guys dick off but some teachers unfortunately intervened. 🙄

[sometimesanalice]

The way Emma is living my dream! Where’s my beefy, blue-eyed, big-handed surfer man??

If I started talking about all the perfect prose in this, I’d probably never stop. It’s 3k of perfection! (Did I quote most of this fic back to you beneath the cut? You bet I did!)

You tried to kill me with the smut, but it was all the casual affection that did me in! If anyone needs me, I’ve checked into a resort at the seaside 🫡

(more for you!)

Golden sunlight follows after him as Harrison ducks into Bluebird Coffee— like, I’m not even a whole sentence in and you’ve got me needing to comment. This is such a pretty image and how dare you. The immaculate word choices here right off the bat? Ma’am I love it.

half-a-size-too-small shirt stretches deliciously snug across his broad shoulders and wide abdomen – across muscles firmed by years of surfing and heavy lifting— stoppp! This is such a delicious mental image. I need a moment or 5 to recenter myself. HALF SIZE TOO SMALL SHIRTTTTTT. It’s so soft and he wears it so well, he did that for all of us!

He looks so good, in fact that Emma almost forgets to be surprised to see him.— this is genuinely so precious. I love her just ogling this beefy surfer man she’s hardcore crushing on (and banging, good on you Emma babe!)

an eclectic record store that somehow always manages to have rare pressings of her favorite records. — “somehow” 🤭

the cute and charming regular with the ocean blue eyes who always orders a Red Eye and chokes it down at the counter like a man in severe pain. — the way when I first read this I was like struck by how HIM that coffee order was, and then sent giggling over the idea of this man wincing down trying to pound down scalding, hot coffee in one go 😂

"Can I get a honey latte from my honey?" Harrison asks with a lopsided grin, nacho levels of cheese in his deep voice. He's so... stupid and adorable, and Emma's so damn fond of him.— I’m still swooning and sighing over this one! Like he’s so precious and goofy, but it works so well for him! And he’s just so smitten!

“I didn't want my girl biking home in the rain." My girl. Her grin is stupid wide. "Thought I'd hang here and watch you work and drive you home after your shift." — sweet boy 🥰 I simply cannot! And if he gets to flirt with his girl and enjoy the view of the pretty interior of that coffee shop so be it!!

She's wearing shorts underneath, but god, Harrison's smoldering attention makes her kind of wish she wasn't wearing anything at all underneath. — HE’S WISHING IT TOO LMAO

She breaks one of the for-here mugs and sloshes almond milk all over the edge of the counter and onto the floor because Harrison is here with his big biceps and his broad, freckled shoulders and his knowing smile and his slutty gold chain.— she’s so real for this!! I’d be spilling syrups, forgetting orders, and stuttering my way through every interaction 😂 BICEPS! FRECKLES! SLUTTY CHAINNNNNNNN! What’s a girl to do?!

He pulled her spit-soaked panties down to her knees and worked her open with his clever mouth and his big fingers and wouldn't let her have his beautiful cock until Emma begged him.— she’s a stronger woman than I because I would have simply CEASED TO EXIST. But also pretty boys, have pretty cocks. And I love her thinking of it as ‘beautiful’ (it could grace the September edition of vogue!)

"There. That's better, isn't it, honey?" Harrison cooed against her shoulder, pushing into her from behind, his grip on her hips just shy of bruising.— all rational thought and feminism has left my bodyyyyy

He's always so much, so good. - 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

It’s a flashback and I’m already losing my mind. Ames you did the most! Thank you for doing the good work 🙏🏼

He seized her hair with one hand and tugged her head to the side, licking a stripe up the side of her neck, licking the sweat from her skin. —THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT (read: the squeak I squoked)

And Emma had to shower and go to work before Harrison could make good on his promise to make her come around his cock, but it's... fine.— TO LEAVE A GIRL HIGH AND DRY SIR CONSERVE THE WATER THAT GIRL DESERVES HER ORGASM! She deserves a Nobel for how she managed to make it through the day without losing her mind.

(The “it’s really so fine” had me cackling, miss ma’am is at her wits end and he knowssss ittttt)

She'd probably be embarrassed except Emma's so fucking wound up that Harrison could probably rock her down on his broad thigh and make her explode. — hello, yes, I would like to read about this next. Catch me tossing a coin to the Witcher. 🪙

pulling back with his hand on the front of her neck, his broad fingers spread wide— AMELIAAAAA NEXT HE’LL BE SPITTING THAT HONEY LATTE INTO HER MOUTH AND I OOP—-

It's so cute of him to ask – so scandalized, as if Harrison hasn't fucked her on the beach multiple times by now, laying her out under a blanket of stars on the longest night of the year. — 🤭🤭🤭

She kisses up his neck, his strong neck, nibbling at the constellation of freckles and beauty marks on his tan skin. Licks the next words against his hammering pulse, against the width of his shoulder. — it’s been a steady descent into madness, it’s been real but I’m shipping myself off to the seaside now 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

He knows the answer, but of course, Harrison wants to hear her say it out loud. — CHEEKY BOY WHAT A TEASE

He knocks her legs wider, pushing his strong thigh between hers again, knocking her off balance, and it's enough that Emma needs to lean into him even more. He's practically holding her up now, practically pinning her up against the locker, shielding her completely, just in case. — like it’s so hot, but then he’s also such a gentleman?!! Like manhandle me please, but also he’s making sure she’s not totally exposed to anyone that might happen by. I mean, did that front door even get locked?!

Emma's never been more grateful for the downfall of One Direction and the subsequent launch of Harry Styles's solo career than in this exact moment. Thank fucking god. — am I Emma?!!

Watching the door carefully, Harrison cradles the back of her head in the crook of his bulging arm, holding her close, and pumps his fingers in and out of her with obscenely wet sounds.— he’s shielding her, he’s watching the door, and I’m losing my mindddddddd! 🫠🫠🫠 ITS WHAT SHE DESERVESSSS

He peels off her shorts, then her soaked panties, slipping them into his pocket.— lmaooo a causal souvenir from their first hook up at her place of work 💁🏼‍♀️(I’m sure there’ll be more 🤭)

He grips her ass with both hands and spreads her even wider and when Harrison presses into her to circle her clit with his tongue, Emma's done for.— KEEPING THE HARRISON EATS IT FROM BEHIND AGENDA ALIVE AND WELL 🫡🫡🫡

Harrison drops a wet, grinning kiss on her cheek and pulls her into his side, his arm over her shoulders. //"Yeah, honey. Let's go home." — oh the casual affection of it!! My tender heart can’t take it!!

As usual, your prose and smut makes me want to drive off a cliff thema&louise style 💁🏼‍♀️ this sent me in a tizzy and I’m obsessed with every bit of it! (Formal petition for Emma and Harrison 2.0 feat. his thigh 🫶🏻 kbyeeee)

dip you in honey (so i could be sticking to you)

synopsis: harrison drinks honey lattes and has big hands.

pairing: harrison knott x emma coves (oc)

warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni, swearing, explicit smut (semi-public sex – in the back of a coffee shop, which is probably some sort of health and safety violation; harrison also eats it from the back; dirty talk and praise and overuse of pet names and all that good stuff because it's him) (wc: 3K)

note: i named the fic after daylight by harry styles, and i named emma after chateau lobby #4 by father john misty because "you left a note in your perfect script, stay as long as you want, and i haven't left you bed since" is such a harrison coded lyric. enjoy! 💛

Golden sunlight follows after him as Harrison ducks into Bluebird Coffee, his presence announced by the little gold bell that hangs above the door, a joyful chime.

Emma watches him make his way to the counter with her balled fists shoved in the pockets of her robin's egg blue apron, one of the many spots of bright color in the small, color-packed space. A string of incandescent bulbs glow above her head – as cheery and bright as the wide smile that fills Emma's freckled face at the sight of her boyfriend.

He looks good, so good.

A half-a-size-too-small shirt stretches deliciously snug across his broad shoulders and wide abdomen – across muscles firmed by years of surfing and heavy lifting. It's an ocean blue that makes his pretty blue eyes shine and gleam, like bursts of sunshine, dancing on a building wave.

He looks so good, in fact that Emma almost forgets to be surprised to see him.

Her dark brows dip ever-so-slightly as Emma peers up at him with a shy smile. "Hey you. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

He works down the street at Lost and Found – an eclectic record store that somehow always manages to have rare pressings of her favorite records.

Emma had just started working at Bluebird when Harrison started coming in – and later, Harrison admitted to spotting her in the window and wanting an excuse to talk to her. She remembered him and his order almost immediately: the cute and charming regular with the ocean blue eyes who always orders a Red Eye and chokes it down at the counter like a man in severe pain.

After a while, Emma took pity on him.

She convinced him to expand his horizons and move him away from his usual Red Eye  – a brewed coffee with a shot of espresso, basically a panic attack in a cup, Emma gently explained to him – and you know... drink coffee he’d actually like.

Lately, Harrison's been partial to a honey latte.

He loves to order them in this one particular way.

"Can I get a honey latte from my honey?" Harrison asks with a lopsided grin, nacho levels of cheese in his deep voice. He's so... stupid and adorable, and Emma's so damn fond of him.

She makes a big show of her rolling her brown eyes, but really, she adores him, and Harrison damn well knows it.

Grabbing a wide-mouth jar from the row of clean glasses and multi-colored pastel mugs, Emma gets to work.

It's a ritual Emma knows well. Two shots of espresso. One cup of oat milk. Two heaping tablespoons of honey because after years of consuming coffee purely for the caffeine, Harrison likes his drinks on the sweeter side now.

She fills the glass with ice, pours in the milk and espresso respectively, and gives it a quick dusting of cinnamon for a pinch of something extra.

She slides it across the counter with a smile and bends forward to lean on her elbows, resting her chin on her bridged fingers and looking up at him through her dark lashes.

"Thanks, Em," Harrison says warmly, fondly.

Her boss usually isn't in on the weekends, but just in case, Emma looks around for her, craning her neck and checking her corners. She doesn't see her anymore so Emma dares to sit on the edge of the counter and dash a quick kiss across Harrison's lips.

He tastes like sea salt and sunscreen and honey.

His lips part in a smile. A warm, radiant smile that warms her down to her toes and makes her feel like Emma's been down at the beach, laying in the sun for hours, and not in the AC-chilled shop since the crack of dawn.

"What're you doing here?" Emma asks him with a grin. She can still feel the pleasant scrape of his stubble on her chin. "Taking a break?"

He is still smiling, lip pulled between his teeth. "A storm's coming so Cooper's closing the shop at noon, and I didn't want my girl biking home in the rain." My girl. Her grin is stupid wide. "Thought I'd hang here and watch you work and drive you home after your shift." A hint of mischief quirks the edge of his lip. "Unless I'll be distracting?"

"You?" Emma feigns shock. "Distracting? Never."

Smiling to herself, Emma goes back to the register to help the customer who is coming in, and Harrison finds an empty stool at the counter to drink his coffee.

But damn, Harrison really is distracting.

She can feel his flame blue eyes on her, burning hot, and – when she reaches up to grab more coffee grounds from one of the high shelves – on the hem of her dress, sliding up the backs of her legs.

She's wearing shorts underneath, but god, Harrison's smoldering attention makes her kind of wish she wasn't wearing anything at all underneath.

So okay, Emma's a little distracted. But really, it's fine.

She breaks one of the for-here mugs and sloshes almond milk all over the edge of the counter and onto the floor because Harrison is here with his big biceps and his broad, freckled shoulders and his knowing smile and his slutty gold chain.

And god, all Emma can think about is this morning when Harrison woke her up with his head between her legs, pressing an enthusiastic trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses across the insides of her thighs, mouthing messily at the dampening fabric of her panties until her searching fingers found their way into his silky hair with a breathy, half-awake moan.

God, Harrison, please, Harrison, oh-oh-oh my god...

He pulled her spit-soaked panties down to her knees and worked her open with his clever mouth and his big fingers and wouldn't let her have his beautiful cock until Emma begged him.

Please, Harrison, please, I need it, ah-oh, need you, need...

"There. That's better, isn't it, honey?" Harrison cooed against her shoulder, pushing into her from behind, his grip on her hips just shy of bruising. He was so big, stretching her around him, so gorgeous, moving slowly so Emma could get used to his size.

He was pressed to her back, warm and absolutely everywhere, and sweat dotted her brow, beading and running down the side of her neck. He's always so much, so good.

He seized her hair with one hand and tugged her head to the side, licking a stripe up the side of her neck, licking the sweat from her skin. "God, honey, you're dripping all over my cock, absolutely soaking." He rolled his hips, moved slow slow slow. "That feel good, honey? You're taking it so well, baby..."

Iced coffee runs over and spills over the sides of the glass and down the back of her hand, shocking her from the daydream, and Emma swears under her breath. She wipes the puddle from the counter with a wad of paper towels and presses the back of her clean hand to her forehead.

Jesus. Is it warm in here?

She feels warm.

And also sticky.

It's fine.

Her fourth alarm – or the back-up-to-the-back-up alarm – rang as Emma was about to fall over the precipice Harrison was painstakingly working her toward with his hand between her legs, all but folding her in half on the mattress.

And Emma had to shower and go to work before Harrison could make good on his promise to make her come around his cock, but it's... fine.

Harrison drums his fingers on the sunshine yellow counter and noticing her eyes on him, gives her a long and borderline inappropriate-for-public once-over. He ends his appraisal with a cheeky smile, crinkled blue eyes glimmering knowingly.

It's really so fine.

Her shift passes agonizingly slowly, and by the time Harrison follows her into the back at a quarter-after-one, Emma's coming out of her skin. She is fidgeting endlessly, running the sun-shaped charm on her gold necklace up and down the length of the chain, gathering her shoulder-length dark curls one-handed against her nape and letting them down again.

"Which locker's yours?" Harrison asks conversationally.

But Emma's so done with conversations.

Ignoring the question, Emma grabs the collar of his shirt with both hands and pushes him into the nearest locker and kisses him.

She catches the corner of his mouth more than anything else, an inelegant mash of lips and stubble, because she caught him off guard and he's so damn tall that he really needs to bend down to meet her, but it doesn't really matter; she just needs to be closer to him.

His big arms wrap around her, lifting her onto her tiptoes, as Harrison deepens the kiss and swallows the half-moan that escapes her mouth. She'd probably be embarrassed except Emma's so fucking wound up that Harrison could probably rock her down on his broad thigh and make her explode.

"Someone missed me," Harrison croons, pulling back with his hand on the front of her neck, his broad fingers spread wide. "It's only been a few hours, honey."

He grins, and god, Harrison really is so handsome, big and strong, strands of sun-kissed hair curling at the ends, cheeks ruddy from sun and laughter. His eyes darken as Harrison really drinks her in.

And what a sight she must be, practically drooling over him, needing him so badly, so desperately.

"Fuck me," she whispers against his mouth, voice husky, and Harrison shudders, practically crushing her against his hard abdomen.

"Here?" Harrison asks, a mix of disbelieving and unbelievably turned on. "Don't you want to go home?"

It's so cute of him to ask – so scandalized, as if Harrison hasn't fucked her on the beach multiple times by now, laying her out under a blanket of stars on the longest night of the year.

She kisses up his neck, his strong neck, nibbling at the constellation of freckles and beauty marks on his tan skin. Licks the next words against his hammering pulse, against the width of his shoulder. "I can't wait, baby, I need you right now. I'm so fucking wet for you, Harrison, please."

"Jesus," Harrison groans.

A large hand presses in between her shoulder blades, bringing her closer, bending her into him, and Harrison's leg slides in between hers, pushing at the hem of her dress.

He makes quick work of the apron around her waist, crumpling it into a ball and flinging it away from them without looking. She'll need to look for it later, but right now, Emma doesn't care because Harrison is running his hands over the soft fabric of her dress, over the curve of her hips, palms hot and burning like an iron.

"Is this dress new?" Harrison asks, so casual, so patient. "I haven't seen it before."

God. He can be such a fucking tease sometimes.

"Who cares about the dress?" Emma snaps.

He only chuckles, a low and gravelly sound, rich like good coffee. "Don't be impatient, honey."

He reserves their positions so Harrison can press her against the locker. His rough palm slowly slides up her leg, lingering on her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp, until Harrison is cupping her through the spandex shorts. Her head drops back against the metal with a dull clang.

"Ow," Emma breathes, more surprised than in pain.

He pauses immediately and asks, "You okay?"

"Mhm," she hums, not trusting herself to form real words right now, and he presses a tender kiss against her temple and works his way over to her ear.

“You’re soaked, honey. I can feel it through the shorts,” Harrison murmurs, hot against her ear. A purposeful flex of his fingers makes her whimper, pressing in the exact right spots through the layers of fabric, and Emma rocks into his hand. "Oh, baby..." He sighs into her hair, stirring the curls. "You need it so bad, don't you?"

She nods, biting her lip so hard it almost hurts to hold back a loud moan.

Finally, Harrison slips his hand down the front of her shorts.

She holds onto his arm, sunflower yellow nails digging in, leaving half-moon circles in his skin, but Harrison doesn't seem to mind. He works his way underneath the scrap of lace, the only thing left between him and her dripping core.

One finger slips inside of her easily, and Emma can actually hear how wet she is. She grows warm, and Harrison swears again. "How's that, honey? That enough for you?"

Of course not, she wants to scream.

He knows the answer, but of course, Harrison wants to hear her say it out loud.

She grips his nape with one hand, running her fingers through his hair, mouth gaping open. "Another, please, Harrison, please."

He always likes that word, please.

Harrison adds another. And another.

He curls his fingers into her, swearing under his breath, murmuring sweet and filthy nothings about god, you're so wet for me, so responsive, baby, fucking perfect and all for me, my sweet and perfect girl.

He knocks her legs wider, pushing his strong thigh between hers again, knocking her off balance, and it's enough that Emma needs to lean into him even more. He's practically holding her up now, practically pinning her up against the locker, shielding her completely, just in case.

"God, I must be the luckiest man alive. You're so sweet, so wet for me, soaking my hand, honey," Harrison praises.

His wide palm grinds against her clit, sending a whole firework show's worth of sparks across her skin. A familiar feeling starts to wash over her, a kind of weightlessness, like Emma's floating on her back in the ocean.

"Such a needy little thing. You couldn't even wait for us to be alone, be home? Y'needed my fingers filling this needy pussy as soon as possible, didn't you?"

He doesn't need an answer, but still, Emma nods mindlessly, makes a kind of half-audible ye–holy shit–ah noise. She needs him to keep going, needs it like air.

His chest rumbles with a satisfied sound. "Don't worry, honey, I'll make it all better."

Moisture gathers in her eyes and streams from the corners, smearing her mascara, and Emma buries her face in his solid shoulder, looking for something to ground her. She inhales deep lungfuls of his familiar scent, citrus and sea salt and musk, breathing in the smell of the ocean that somehow always seems to cling to his clothes, to his skin.

Her mouth falls open in a muffled moan, which is mercifully drown out by the upbeat pop music her coworker Adrienne put on for the afternoon crowd.

Emma's never been more grateful for the downfall of One Direction and the subsequent launch of Harry Styles's solo career than in this exact moment. Thank fucking god.

Watching the door carefully, Harrison cradles the back of her head in the crook of his bulging arm, holding her close, and pumps his fingers in and out of her with obscenely wet sounds.

"Look at me," Harrison says. A gentle order.

Head swimming, Emma lifts her chin, eyes glazed over, and Harrison leans down and devours in her mouth in a ferocious and enthusiastic kiss.

His fingers work harder, rubbing her harder and faster, coaxing her over the edge. And when Emma whines against his mouth, so close, Harrison grows rougher in his ministrations, pinching at her clit with two fingers and not letting up as Emma goes off all over his hand, lips sealed against his, crying into his mouth.

He doesn't let up until Emma's sagging in his arms, shaking and over-sensitive.

A rosy pink flush spreads across his collarbone and up his neck as Harrison pulls his fingers out of her with a pornographic squelching sound.

His eyes are bright as Harrison looks down at her, gaze flicking between her glassy eyes and her mouth, kiss swollen. His voice comes out a little gravelly, a little hoarse, a little strained. "Was that good?"

A blissful nod, and Harrison's lips curve into a smirk.

"Good because I'm not done with you quite yet. Turn around."

Emma blinks at him, still dazed, and asks dumbly. "What?"

"Turn around," Harrison repeats, regarding her with half-lidded eyes, "so I can get on my knees and clean up the mess you've made of those pretty little panties with my tongue."

A shiver runs down her spine as Emma's brain catches up with his words. She faces the locker and rests her forehead on the cool metal and breathes.

"Stay real quiet for me, honey," is all he says before he drops to his knees and lifts her dress. "Can you hold this up for me?" She white-knuckles the fabric. "Good girl."

He peels off her shorts, then her soaked panties, slipping them into his pocket.

And hell, Emma really does want to stay quiet for him, but Harrison bends her forward ever-so-slightly and audibly groans at the sight of her. He parts her cunt with his fingers and leans in, licking into her with enthusiastic and searching strokes of his eager tongue, living up to his promise of licking her clean.

He grips her ass with both hands and spreads her even wider and when Harrison presses into her to circle her clit with his tongue, Emma's done for.

She slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of his name, shaking against his face and sagging forward, practically boneless.

He slowly stands and wipes his hand over his dripping chin and sucks his shining fingers – sticky like honey – into his mouth with a satisfied hum, deep in his chest, and hooks his hand around her jaw to pull her into a kiss.

She licks into his mouth. Licks her taste from his lips, relishing in his deep groan, seeing stars.

Half-slurred, Emma asks, "D'you want to go home now?"

She could use a nap – or four.

Harrison drops a wet, grinning kiss on her cheek and pulls her into his side, his arm over her shoulders.

"Yeah, honey. Let's go home."

note: you know what else is harrison coded? eating it from the back. okay bye!

tagging a few mutuals and people who interacted with my posts about the fic and also harrison lovers (my boyfriend, real): @sometimesanalice @theharddeck @callsignspark @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain @ryebecca @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @attapullman @sebsxphia

[a-slut-for-smut]

GUYS I DID IT I DID IT I MADE A SMUT!!!!

*whispers* but...its for gojohime XD

Oh lawd some horny ass demon has possessed me because these 2 idiots be living rent free in my slutty head 24/7, the brainrot got so bad it somehow manifested into a (my very first fic actually) fluffy smut fic!

Anyway, my brainrot has convinced me that Gojo is so madly in love with her it makes him stupid, Utahime loves him too but doesnt know it...yet. She's just so over his shit. As for Gojo...well he can be unhinged/super cocky at times but i never saw him as mean or cruel, maybe emotionally stunted like a big baby crying for any attention he can get lol

Here's a preview so you can turn back now of whats in store:

----

"Is this what you want?" She asks darkly, as she grips him with more pressure.

Gojo whimpers, looking up at her in shock, disbelief and surprisingly, awe. "...yes", he barely manages to breathe out.

----

As she sprung his cock free from his pants, she let out a low, appreciative whistle.

“Well well well...looks like we got ourselves a chonky boi here.”

Gojo felt his chest swell with pride- he couldn’t stop himself from beaming.

----

Poor little kouhai had finally bitten off more than he could chew, she thought. She’d give him something to chew on for years to come.

----

Also in dedication to the 5 Song Lovers nickname (derived from GoUta) I've decided this will be 5 chapters, with each chapter title named after a beloved song that embodies them, their relationship and the overall chapter theme. Just know I have eclectic music tastes! The first song is "I Got You Under My Skin" cover by South Korean singer Jihae, featured in the show Altered Carbon (which unfortunately only exists in the show as producers decided not to release it- i will die be mad about this)- its exactly how I imagine Utahime singing it, its a stupidly sexy rendition:

So if you like what you see, than buckle up bitch it's gonna be a wild ride hehehe. I'd suggest reading on Ao3 HERE as i give more fun background about the fic, but here it is too:

Call Me By My Name: The Taming of the Insufferable Manwhore Sorcerer

Summary: Utahime hits her breaking point with the insufferable sorcerer- copious amounts of hilarity, pining fluffiness and bean-flickin good smut ensues :D

Rating: E (duh)

Utahime was having a shitty day.  The cafe she normally frequents for takeout coffee served her the nastiest burnt-tasting coffee, which she proceeded to spew and get all over her white miko outfit.  She really needed that coffee too- she had passed out after showering last night, exhausted, only to wake up with bedhead that refused to be tamed.  And why was she exhausted, exactly?

Because she spent the past 3 weeks preparing for her meeting with the elders about a promotion -a meeting set months in advance- which they decided to oh so considerately cancel the morning of with no reason, postponing it without a predetermined date.  She just wanted the day to be over so she could escape in front of the TV with the 3 bottles of fancy red wine she had splurged on in the hopes of a celebration.  The last thing she needed was a chance encounter with the walking, talking giant hemorrhoid that was Gojo Satoru.

“UTAHIMEEEEEE” the familiar yet disrespectful greeting pierced through the school courtyard, grating her nerves and making the vein on her temple throb.  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, deciding to ignore it and kept walking, the last classes had just been dismissed with the students quick to flee the premises to embrace the weekend. She marched on, needing to grab her bag in her desk to escape, only to collide with a solid form that made her stumble back.

Gojo apparently lowered his Infinity and teleported right in front of her, grinning his Cheshire grin.

“Utahime!! Where are you going with so much purpose, hmm?”

She grit her teeth, she was in no mood to play his games.  “Home” she said simply as she breezed by him.  Gojo turned and followed, undeterred by her lack of reaction and decided to dial it up because if there's one thing Gojo would not abide by is that he would not be ignored, especially by her.

"Hey Utahime! Why are you so weak?” Gojo inquired annoyingly, “is it because you're so small and short? Why do you refuse to acknowledge my greatness in everything? Huh?huh?huh?huh?"

Utahime whirls around to face him, fuming. "GOJO, ENOUGH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??? WHY DO YOU KEEP HARASSING ME LIKE THIS?? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME???"

Gojo grinned, victory splayed all over his face. “Oh, the Elders called for some meeting with me, probably over something stupid, honestly its such a waste of my time I’ll probably just ghost them and keep them waiting, haha!  Then I saw you and thought oh, Utahime would be a better use of my time!  You’re so much more fun.”

“And...” he leaned down slightly, as if speaking to a child “...as to what I want, it should be obvious!” gleefully cheesing so hard she could tell his eyes were closed despite the blindfold.

Her mind was running a mile a minute, digesting his words- the Elders probably had canceled her meeting with them to make way for Gojo of all people, and he wasn’t going to bother showing up! Fate was playing some sort of cruel joke and she wasn't laughing.  The higher ups wouldn't give her the time of day, passing her over and over despite all her efforts and hard-earned accomplishments, while this IDIOT undeservedly has them all at his beck and call and will ghost them on a whim???  This was it, she decided.  This was the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

She narrows her eyes at him, and with the speed of a viper strike seizes Gojo's man bits in her left fist and twists, hard.  Gojo lets out a shocked pained gasp and doubles over, just below eye level with her.

"Is this what you want?" She asks darkly, as she grips him with more pressure.

Gojo whimpers, looking up at her in shock, disbelief and surprisingly, awe. "...yes", he barely manages to breathe out.

His admission does something to her, something she's never felt with him before- the thrill of absolute power, of domination.  A smirk tugs at her lips as she lifts her right hand to slide his blindfold down, gently caressing his face while doing so. She feels him grow and pulse in her left hand, and she clenches him in her fist even harder, eliciting an embarrassing hiss-moan from him.

"Yes...what, Gojo-kun ?" she prompts sweetly, feeling empowered as she slowly runs her grip from the base of his balls, dragging her fingertips along the underside of his shaft.

Gojo's eyes flutter as he sighs out: "Yes, please.... senpai ."

Utahime releases him slowly, pinching the head of his cock as she lets go, making him suck in his breath once more.

“Well, only good little kouhai's can get what they want.  Are you going to be a good little kouhai?”

Gojo stares at her dumbly for a moment before nodding vigorously.

“Good. Then follow me.” She turns without looking back, continuing her original path at an unhurried pace.

Gojo follows her obediently without a word.  His mind is reeling, this is unmarked territory for him- after all these years he can’t believe this is actually happening.  He hasn’t the faintest idea why this of all things was her breaking point, or what to expect (but he could certainly hope and imagine) and he wasn’t ashamed to admit he wanted to see it through.

They walked in silence, the school was quiet, without a soul in sight.  The halls are flooded with a gentle amber light of a waning afternoon, the air a bit humid but not unpleasantly so.  As he traces the hallways with his eyes he fidgets inwardly, trying to recall if he remembered to put on deodorant today, hoping he doesn't smell, that despite it not being that hot he felt he was sweating, no, burning .

His worrying thoughts halted when they approached her classroom door.  Here be dragons he said to himself as she unlocked the door.  Upon entering, she moved to the side of the doorway and gestured to come in.  He stepped in, standing at attention, while she slowly slid the door closed and locked it.  She turned to him, unashamedly appraising him from bottom to top with lidded eyes.

“Take a seat.” she commanded. He hesitated for a moment, before moving towards one of the student desks.  “No. Not that one”. That one” she gestured with a nod towards her desk.  He hesitated again, before walking and settling himself in her office chair.  And waited.  Like a good little kouhai.

Utahime grinned inwardly, relishing Gojo’s obvious nervousness.  Oh, I am going to have fun with this, she said to herself wickedly.  Recompense for her canceled meeting, for all those years of endless teasing and harassment, this was fair play in her eyes.

She strode to him at a languid pace, Gojo watching every step.  He looked up at her uncertainly when she stopped directly in front of him, hinging at the waist so she was eye level with him.  She held his gaze for a couple beats when both of her hands suddenly grasped his knees and jerked his legs wide open, making him gasp in surprise.

“We’re going to play a little game, Gojo-kun.”  She says, lowly.  “But first, you need to agree to the rules.  If you break any said rules, the game is over. Never to be played again. Do you understand?”

Gojo gulped audibly, nodding slowly.

“Good kouhai.  Rule 1. No touching unless I explicitly say so. No hands, mouth, nothing. I will touch you and you will take it like a good kouhai, understand? Absolutely no Infinity allowed.  Rule 2. No talking. You so much as flap your stupid dick lips even once and this is all over. Rule 3. No peeking.”

“This...” she drags her hold from his knees up, traveling up his thighs, along his hips to his chest -Gojo holding his breath the entire time- to gripping his neck while lightly squeezing.  She felt him swallow thickly before releasing her hold to gather his blindfold sitting at the base of his throat.  She pulled it up over his eyes and tied it tight behind his head.  “...stays on.  Your eyes stay closed, and don't even THINK about using Six Eyes because I will know and this game ends for good.  Do you understand and agree to follow the rules?”

“Yes senp-” Gojo is cut short, gasping when Utahime suddenly strikes him across the face, hard.

“Did you already forget Rule 2, idiot kouhai?? Do you not want to play this game because we can stop this now.” Her tone is harsh, threatening.

He was dazed for a split second before shaking his head.  “Good.  Now do you agree to follow the rules I've just laid out?”  Gojo nods his head once, all eyes shut tight.

“That’s a good kouhai.”  She moves away from him, he already misses the warmth of her.  Embracing the darkness, he listens intently- the shuffling of clothing, the opening of a desk drawer, the familiar rustling and tearing of a condom wrapper (the question as to why she kept condoms in her desk drawer he would need to ponder later).

He hears her approach, she grabs both his wrists and kneels behind him, binding them together with a single zip tie.  Zip ties too??, he questions inwardly but the thought fades immediately when she draws in close, positioning herself in the space between his legs.

“Are you ready to play, Gojo-kun?” He was nodding eagerly before he realized what he was doing.

When he felt her hands on his belt buckle, he immediately widened his stance and arched his back to give her better access, aching for her touch.  He held his breath as her fingers unbuttoned his pants and undid the zipper, torturously slow.  He knew she was teasing him, he supposed he deserved it and there was no denying he was entirely (and willingly) at her mercy.  But when she reached into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his aching cock he had to bite back a moan, she had gotten him so worked up he struggled not to embarrass himself.

As she sprung his cock free from his pants, she let out a low, appreciative whistle.

“Well well well...looks like we got ourselves a chonky boi here.”

Gojo felt his chest swell with pride- he couldn’t stop himself from beaming.

She wasn’t kidding either.  In her hand was the fattest, girthiest dummy thicc cock she’d ever laid eyes on, even including all the kinky porn she indulged in- which was saying a lot . The girth was one thing, but the heft, the weight of the thing…it bewildered her as to how he managed to even walk around comfortably with this monster dong between his legs. Length-wise was nothing to sneeze at either, but above all else she wondered just how the hell she was gonna get that thing to fit.

Her inner musings continued as she stroked him softly, rolling the condom down (it was a tad snug, but that was his fault for having such a dummy thicc cock).  With the same hand she raised to his lips, with one simple command: “Spit.” Gojo obeyed, despite how dry his mouth was he frantically worked his tongue to gather as much saliva as possible.

She returned her hand to his cock, stroking and coating him, getting him nice and slick while he murmured softly in pleasure.  “Lean back.” she ordered, stepping over his knees in a straddle position.  Gojo leaned back into the chair as far as it allowed, his bound hands gripping the chair seat with bruising strength as he felt her heat on the tip of his cock.

“Buckle up kouhai, you're in for a wild ride” she whispered hotly in his ear, tingles running down his spine, as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock.

FUCK. He was so fucking thick fuck fuck fuck her mind was frantic, there was already good deal of resistance when he first breached her, but the continuing stretch was making her lose her fucking mind.  She willed her way through it at a tortuous pace, sinking her nails into his shoulders while taking him cm by cm, mapping every vein and ridge of his cock until finally fusing their hip bones together.

A protracted moan of relief escaped his throat as she settled in his lap, fuck she was so tight, so warm, so wet, the sensations were so overwhelming, every fiber of his being screamed to slam himself up into her, grip her waist so hard it would leave bruises, ravage that sassy little mouth of hers with his tongue- it was a miracle he was able to restrain himself at all.  He bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose in an attempt to strengthen his resolve, his self control.

She examined his face, his furrowed brow in severe concentration, almost in an anguished expression.

It delighted her.

She found herself even more aroused, growing wetter. Poor little kouhai had finally bitten off more than he could chew, she thought. She’d give him something to chew on for years to come.

With her feet firmly planted on the floor, she slowly lifted her hips up until only the very tip of his cock was in, and swiftly slammed herself down on him, eliciting a choking gasp from him.  She smirked villainously as she repeated the motion again, again and again, broken sighs and whines tumbling from his lips.

“Look at how good my little kouhai is, taking a pussy pounding so well” she purred into his neck as she started to increase her tempo, rolling her hips so that the head of his cock dragged the entire length of her frontal walls so deliciously she struggled to stifle her own moans.

Gojo was an utter mess, his head was spinning from the pleasure of it all- the way she pistoned her hips up and down his cock, the way she gripped him like a vice with her cunt and her fingers, how hot and wet her breath felt on his skin, the aborted noises she made as she struggled to subdue her own moans- he was hopelessly lost. With her. Within her.

He could feel the heat coiling in his groin, the need to burst within her was too much, he couldn’t hold on much longer.  He bit his lip harder as she continued riding him mercilessly, in a desperate attempt to keep his orgasm at bay but it was too late. The dams burst free; completely ambushed by the searing white hot waves of pleasure crashing and coursing through his body so violently he let out a series of short, almost pained gasps as his orgasm ripped through him.

Utahime slowed her pace so she could enjoy the show- Gojo coming undone, utterly ruined, struggling to catch his breath. She’d never admit it to anyone but it was the hottest, most erotic display she had ever witnessed.  She regretted keeping the blindfold on, she would have loved to see his eyes as he came and the intensity behind them, she jokingly wondered if they gleamed or lit up.

As she felt him softening within her she suddenly pulled herself up, his cock flopping unceremoniously on his thigh as she reached for her hakama. The sudden loss of her warmth made him panic, he was stuttering before he remembered the rule “Sorry, I don’t normally…I’m usually…just give me a few mins…”

A finger brushed his lips, hushing him.  “You were a good little kouhai…” she whispered sensually in his ear,  “…but I win.” With that she picked up her bag and walked out the classroom, slamming the door closed.

Gojo sat there dumbfounded, hands still tied, blindfolded, with his dick hanging out of his pants, still processing what the hell just happened.

**The next morning**

Utahime wakes up the next morning to warm sunbeams caressing her eyes and face.  She turns to her clock, only to see the numbers 8:30 AM stare back at her. Stupid sun, she mumbles to herself before throwing the covers over her head, determined to sleep off her hangover after downing 2 bottles of red wine by herself last night.

The sun, however, had other plans.  Her bedroom quickly began to warm up, the sun relentless as if to say suck it bitch, get your lazy ass up.  With the windows closed it was stifling, her face under the covers not helping, she gritted her teeth before letting out an exasperated groan, must everything in her life be so infuriating??? Fuck my life.

She threw off the covers, glaring at the sun jeering through her window, before stumbling to her bathroom to take a hot shower. She was feeling particularly sore for some reason.

When she returned to her bedroom, she checked her phone only to see that the battery died at some point last night.  She recalled tossing it into her bedroom as she frantically uncorked the first wine bottle, taking a large swig before plopping herself on the sofa and switching on the baseball game.  She had finished the 2nd bottle around the 8th inning, and seeing how her home team had a significant lead she called it quits and promptly passed out on her bed without bothering to change out of her work clothes.  Whatever, it was a rough day.

She plugged her phone in the charger and turned it on, only to receive an onslaught of notification chimes.  Almost every one of them came from the same contact: “idiot kouhai”

Oh, that’s right.  She had fucked Gojo Satoru yesterday.

She threw her head back cackling as the notification chimes continued, no wonder she was extra sore this morning!  Man, that wine really did a number on me.   The 67 new notifications alert made her giddy, she imagined Gojo running around in a panic like a chicken with its head cut off, much to her amusement.

She didn’t read through all of them- they varied from simple greetings “hey senpai” and “senpai pls respond” while gradually increasing in desperation “Hello??? Senpai are you alive???” and “SENPAI SO MEAN, IGNORING ME ALL NIGHT!!!”  A bunch were missed calls, then finally the last being a voicemail.

She bit her lip at the voicemail alert, hesitating, unsure what to expect, whether she actually wanted to hear what he had to say.  If she left it alone or deleted it, and just leave things unspoken and maybe that was for the best.

Utahime deliberated for a few more seconds before deciding fuck it , and tapped the speakerphone icon.

“Hey Uta-...ermm Senpai! Ive been trying to reach you...uh...i just want to make sure...that...um...you got home ok!  Ummm...yeah...call me back when you get this- or, text me, you know….whatever you prefer.  Just...yeah. Um...talk to you later. oh! And sorry about your door. Ok. bye!

Utahime tapped her phone against her forehead, chuckling to herself.  Gojo was unintentionally adorable when he was unsure of himself, which was a rarity in itself.   As adorable as it was, she decided it was probably best not to call him back until after the weekend, to let things breathe and air out.  She’d figure out what he meant by the door later.

She saw a message from Mei Mei and Shoko each, apparently Gojo had harassed them to text her to see if she was alive, with Shoko also asking when Utahime expects to arrive at her apartment tonight.  Hmm, guess it was a blessing that asshole sun pulled her out of bed when it did, otherwise she might have run late for her train to Tokyo for their girls night out.

On her way out the door, her phone rings and she immediately picks up.

“Hey Shoko, dont worry im on my way-”

“Hey...its me”, a voice interjected that was decidedly not Shoko.

Gojo. Well, guess she’ll have to speak with him earlier than planned. 

“Oh, it's you.  What do you want?”  She asked, as blase as possible.

“I...uh, tried to call you yesterday.  I wanted to make sure everything...I mean you, were ok.”

“Yeah my phone died.  I'm good.  Anyway I'm running late and gotta get going-”

“So where are you going? You’re meeting Shoko? Can I come???” He asked in his best silly singsong voice he could muster in a lame attempt to hide his trepidation.

“Nope.” She replied curtly. “Girls night out.  Vaginas only.”

“Senpai so mean!” He cried. “That’s very exclusionist, you know.  Did you ever consider that I might identify as a woman, hmm? Does that count?”

She huffed. “Gojo, you’re not fooling anyone the way you flex your dick all around town.”

She heard a choking noise like he was taken aback, but Utahime didn’t give him a chance to respond, the conversation was over- “Anyway, I've got to go, have a good weekend byeeeeeee” and promptly hung up.

Gojo sat on his sofa, staring at his phone.  There was a bite to her words that he chose to push aside to mull over later.  He was more interested in what her plans were.  Clearly she was meeting Shoko, and she said girls night out so that implied Mei Mei would be there.

He decided to do some social media sleuthing to see what he could find out.  Mei Mei was something of an influencer, constantly posting herself in stylish outfits, sharing posts of luxury goods etc.  Her latest post was a selfie, sporting thigh-high boots and showing off a mid-thigh high black dress with long sleeves that connected across her collarbone with gold brooch and an open panel that tastefully exposed her ample chest.  <Authors note: LOL omg...i can’t describe clothes for shit> The caption under read:

Can't wait for ladies night out tonight, come out to The Nightingale Lounge @10pm to toast my girl Uta xoxo

Gojo felt his eyebrows rise. Well, that was easy. Thank god for attention-seeking, validation hungry social media whores. Not sure what they were celebrating but it didn’t matter- Utahime was coming to Tokyo, and most likely would spend the night at least.  This would make it easy to infiltrate, and innocently bump into them in the Roppangi nightlife district.

He started scheming a plan of attack when his mind started to wander, particularly to the events of yesterday afternoon. He felt himself cringe as he recalled how fast he came, how she didn't finish, what she was thinking…

He groaned, lifting his forearm to cover his eyes. It was fucking embarrassing.  He was a teenager all over again.  He needed her to know that was a fluke, she had gotten him too excited, that he could absolutely deliver in bed. He needed to prove himself to her.  If Principal Gakuganji hadn’t gotten in the way, maybe he would have caught up to her…

**Yesterday afternoon**

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Gojo never realized just how obnoxiously loud the classroom clocks could be, the ticks seem to echo across the entire school.  He sat dumbstruck for a few beats, unsure what to do.  Was she coming back? If she was, would she be mad if he freed himself? Did she really leave? Should he go chase after her or would she get mad?

He decided to risk the latter and snapped the zip tie easily, ripping the condom off and tossing it aside, frantically stuffing his half hard cock back into his pants trying to ignore the obvious discomfort. He made a dash for the door when he heard footsteps approaching, stopped short and froze.

There was a knock before the door opened and Gojo could feel his face fall as he stared directly at Principal Gakuganji’s crusty old face.

“Gojo?? What are you doing here? Where were you this afternoon?? We waited nearly an hour you arrogant punk!”

Gojo blinked. He had forgotten all about that, but he felt no remorse- not when there were more pressing matters to see to.

“Sorry not sorry, I was busy” he replied as he made a move to push past him.  Gakuganji blocked his path, stern look on his face.  “We did the courtesy of calling a meeting, you should return that courtesy by attending.  What are you doing in Iori-sensei’s classroom? Is she still here? She wanted to speak with us.”

Gojo scoffed. “Whatever old man, I do what I want.  Utahime’s not here, I was…looking for her too.  I needed to bother her about something. Not your business anyway.”

Gakuganji narrowed his eyes. “You should learn to respect the wisdom of your elders, otherwise it may lead to your downfall one day” he said evenly, clearly irritated but stepped aside to let him go. Gakuganji meant it as a threat but knew the words had no bite to Gojo.

Gojo rolled his eyes so hard his retinas strained to keep them falling out of their sockets. He didn’t bother dignifying Gakuganji with a response, as he simply turned and walked off with his trademark giggle he knew pissed people off.

When he got outside, Utahime was nowhere to be seen.  When he checked for her cursed energy and found nothing, his shoulders fell. She really did leave. Fucking cockblocking old man he sighed, irritated, his cock crusty from the condom.

The condom. Gojo’s eyes widened.  He threw it haphazardly in her classroom somewhere…if Gakuganji or someone else saw it…oh god, what would they think? That he jacks off in her classroom when she’s not there? Or worse yet, Utahime fucking around with her students?

He made a mad sprint back, poking his head down the hallway to see if Gakuganji was still there.  The coast clear, he made his way to the door only to find it locked. FUCKING Gakuganji Gojo seethed, he was so frustrated he simply punched through the door without thinking and turned the lock.  His eyes scanned the room, thankfully it landed somewhere not in plain sight.

He spent the next 10 mins searching, getting more irritated by the second. Where the fuck was it?? he straightened up with a frustrated groan.  What a day. He looked out the window, dusk was settling in comfortably, almost mocking him as he realized it was taking him far too long to find this stupid condom.

As he frowned at the sky, his eyes fell on a white splotch on the glass.  His frown deepened.

He approached the splotch which was directly above the classroom fish tank, pausing mid step before throwing his head back and unleashing a loud, frustrated yell that lasted several seconds.

his

jizz

was

EVERYWHERE!!!!

Painted all over the window behind the fish tank, all over the fish tank, the plants surrounding the fish tank.  The condom was floating proudly on the surface of the water, laughing at him. Gojo had unintentionally Jackson Pollocked the fuck out of Utahime’s classroom, the signature of their tryst everywhere.

He hung his head, sighing deeply.  He couldn’t lie, he was almost proud of the sheer amount of cum he managed to produce, but he much preferred if it was painting the walls of her cunt than her classroom.

He set to work cleaning, he knew she would be furious if she found it but foremost he did not want her facing a scandal with the school administration.  He felt the need, no, compelled to protect her ever since that day…he shook his head.  He hated thinking about that day. Finding her. The sheer amount of blood. He'd much rather be cleaning his cum away than her blood.

He grimaced, focusing on his task which took him at least 20 mins, burning all the tissues he used from her desk with cursed energy.  Wiping his hands, his eyes fell on her desk drawer.  Curiosity got the best of him, hand fidgeting as it hovered over the handle, deliberating.

Suddenly, he remembered the reason why he had even sought her out in the first place.  He patted his chest, feeling for the small package in his coat. While he hoped she liked it, he was thankful he got it as it served a perfect excuse to snoop.

He slid the drawer open and quirked an eyebrow.  There was a package of zipties, as expected, and an opened box of condoms which appeared to be only half full, much to his chagrin.  But then his eyes fell on a tin box, for an expensive matcha tea brand.  He had gifted her such a box years ago when they were younger, and while it could have been any box he sincerely hoped it was his.

He opened it to see a small pile of his favorite candies.  A goofy grin bloomed across his face as he recalled the memories associated with them.  How she introduced the candies to him. How when one time he was being extra annoying to her, she reached into her pocket and threw a handful of said candies one way, yelling “LOOK GOJO, CANDY!!!” while running the opposite direction.  It didn’t work, but it certainly bought her a few seconds as he laughed at her ingenuity.

He plucked one out and popped it in his mouth, savoring the sweet flavor. As sweet as it was, he was sure Utahime tasted far sweeter.  With that, he placed the small package where she could easily find it.

As he stepped out of the classroom, he paused and turned to look at her office chair. He sincerely hoped, prayed that would not be their first time would not be the last, sheepishly glancing at the damaged door on his way out.

**Later that night**

Gojo arrived at The Nightingale Lounge around 10:25pm, if he knew the ladies as well as he thought he did, they definitely would be fashionably late.  As he waited he did some recon in the lobby, near the stairs leading down to the lounge, he wondered if they were meeting anyone else and scanned the crowds.

Normally he dressed to the nines when he went out; he always loved to make an impression and wasn’t shy about it.  But this time he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, so he opted for a simple loose fitted v neck black t-shirt and jeans, muting his silver mop with a wool beanie and his crystal blue eyes with his trademark sunglasses. He still wanted to look fuckable, but casually so, as if he was out but not on a date.  He still got quite a few stares from the ladies and several gents, but he ignored them.

He waited 20 mins but didn’t see them arrive.  He checked his phone, Mei Mei hadn’t updated since earlier which was odd, he felt the only time she wouldn’t was if she didn’t have cellular service.

Wait…the lounge was downstairs, underground basically…could they already be there? Annoyed with himself for not checking earlier, he made his way down, pushing the door open only to hear the most angelic, euphonious singing ever to reach his ears.  He stood in the doorway, stunned not only what he was hearing, but what he saw. <Author's note: Stop reading and listen to the song I mentioned if you haven't already!!!>

I've got you...

under my skin

I've got you...

deep in the heart of me

Utahime was on the stage, bathed in the brilliant light of the spotlight, swaying as she cradled the microphone on its stand, as if she were tenderly singing a lullaby to an infant.

She looked incredible, almost ethereal.  Dressed in a blue satin drape asymmetric strap midi dress with a cowl neckline <Authors note: i didn’t even try lol just google this exact phrase and try telling me Utahime wouldn't slay in that dress>, it did her every favor- showcasing her body while leaving plenty to the imagination.

Gojo’s eyes were drawn to her bare shoulders and collarbones, he never saw them as she always spotted her Miko outfit around him…he couldn’t help himself as he imagined his lips and tongue tracing all over them.  He was so weak for exposed shoulders and necklines, there was nothing more erotic.  But as much as he mentally salivated just how good she looked, her voice- her voice was on a whole other level.

So deep in my heart,

that you're really a part of me...

I've got you under my skin

He stood there, mesmerized.  It was as if she was singing directly to him, only to him.  Wave of calm washed over him as she continued, he felt every muscle in his body relax, untense.  It almost felt like he was dreaming, or in a trance.  He had never been more enthralled by anything in his life.

I'd tried so,

not to give in...

I said to myself,

this affair never will go so well...

But why should I try to resist,

when baby I know so well...

I've got you under my skin

He vaguely felt a tug on his right sleeve, he ignored it until a hand wrapped around his forearm. He snapped his head at the intrusion to see a girl in a mini dress cupping her hand to her mouth:

“You gotta move! You're standing in the doorway!”

Gojo realized he had frozen right when he entered, he probably should move as he didn’t want to be spotted.  The girl tugged at him, leading him towards the bar.  He followed as it was quite crowded and provided ample cover. The girl turned and looked up at him, cupping her hand again.

“Hi I’m Keiko!”

Gojo wasn’t in the mood to engage, he wanted to immerse himself with Utahime.

“Hello” He said, blandly.  He didn’t bother offering his name.

“So…” she batted her eyelashes “...wanna buy me a drink?” She asked coquettishly, a routine she seemed all too familiar with.

Gojo jerked his arm back instantly, nearly recoiling from her.  The nerve, this chick interrupted him witnessing Utahime and expected him to reward her for that??

The girl backed off at his reaction, a wounded look flashed across her face before she threw her hands up. “Whoa relax mister, you can say no.”  Gojo sighed. He didn’t mean to be so dramatic, but she was irritating him.  “Here” he handed her a 10,000 yen bill, “it’s on me as long as you and any friends with you leave me alone for the rest of the night.”

The girl looked at the note, then him, then shrugged as she plucked it from his fingers and made her way to the bar.  He huffed, hoping for no more distractions as he turned to the stage again.

Utahime had finished her song, much to his chagrin, and was casually chatting with the audience.  She exuded this bewitching, sultry persona on stage- he had never seen this side of her before.  He wondered what else he didn’t know about her, what else she hid from him or chose not to let him see.  Who are you? The thought, the unknown gnawed at his mind…it seemed there was so much to Utahime he was completely in the dark about, despite knowing each other for over two decades.  He was determined to uncover everything there was to know about her.

“Alright my loves, it’s been fun as always.  You’ll have to excuse me though, I have some friends from out of town and the plan tonight is to get blasted” Gojo hears whoops and whistles from the left side of the stage, he traced the cheers to see Mei Mei and Shoko at a VIP table, drinks in hand.  So everyone did arrive on time, lamenting on how he missed most of her show due to a bad call on his part.  Did he even really know anyone anymore?

“Until next time folks, y’all have a goodnight!”

The room filled with applause as Utahime got up and walked down the stage stairs, waving her hands in the air as she did a little victory dance towards the VIP table.  Their table was littered with drinks, and empty glasses- they had been here a while.

Gojo deliberated on approaching them. As he struggled for an excuse as to why he was there, he saw three middle-aged men in business suits approach their table with an expensive looking champagne bottle.  A chat went on and the ladies made room for the men to join them.  Gojo frowned but watched from a distance.

He saw Utahime whisper into the ear of the man closest to her, who promptly gestured for the waitress. She returned with a tray of what looked like six Old Fashioned cocktails and a box of cigars.  His frown deepened as the man handed Utahime a glass and cigar, the latter she accepted by parting her mouth slightly and allowing him to place it in her lips.  He seethed as the man lit it for her, almost cupping her face.

Gojo was not enjoying the display in front of him- Mei Mei and Shoko laughing amongst these loser suits, the one with a death wish slyly sliding his arm over Utahime’s bare shoulders.  She looked pointedly at his arm, then at the man's face before giving him a flirty wink.  Gojo was not amused.  Far from it.

This carried on for another 30 mins, his blood boiling at dangerous temperatures but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.  Finally the ladies all rose from their chairs with their purses, it seemed they were about to leave the club. The men rose with them, grabbing the untouched champagne bottle and followed the ladies towards the stairs.

Gojo turned his back to remain unseen, then followed shortly behind.  The group was outside, sans one of the men.  Gojo snuck amongst the crowd towards the far end of the entrance.  He was going to make his move, there was no way this fucker was going home with her.  He’d murder for far less.

With the ladies standing with their backs towards him, he called out:

“Oi! Senpai!!! Shoko! Mei Mei!”

All three spin around simultaneously, searching the crowd- but all his eyes were on Utahime, and he was not prepared for what he saw as her eyes met his. Nor could he ever forget it- he would remember until his dying day.

She smiled the most exquisite smile, slow to crest but quickly grew with brilliance- her eyes shining with unbidden joy.  She was so happy…so happy to see him.

“Gojo-kuuuuuuuuuuuun!!!” she squealed happily, making a dash for him and throwing her arms around his neck.  “What are you doing here?”, genuinely ecstatic to see him.

Gojo was stunned speechless but instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist; she smelled of cigar smoke and whiskey but he didn’t give a fuck, relishing the warmth of her body pressed to his.

Mei Mei and Shoko strolled forward. “Indeed Gojo, what are you doing here?”  Mei Mei coyly inquired. Shoko merely took a long drag from her cigarette with one eyebrow cocked.

He looked up briefly and opened his mouth but no words came out as he looked back at Utahime- her expression was one of unadulterated joy and she never looked so lovely. He never wanted to kiss her so badly; he moved to do so before he could stop himself when she suddenly jerked her head back. Her expression changed on a flip of a dime to suspicion.

“Wait a minute…” she drawled out, clearly inebriated, “I know why you’re here.”

Gojo froze like a deer in headlights…she had him pegged and would accept the consequences, but when she unraveled her arms from his neck he almost protested, he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.

She removed his hands from her waist, tossing them away, looking back up at him with her hands on her hips and targeting him with a disapproving glare.

He swallowed thickly, waiting for the onslaught.

“You’re not going to find many single girls here Gojo, it’s mainly couples tonight. You should try Samba House. Talent should be better there.” She waved her hand dismissively.

He balked. “Wha- no, Utah- err, senpai! I’m not here for that!” he protested, “I’m just….I was bored and wanted to see what the scene was like in Roppangi!  But it's a good thing I did because I found you…girls…” he added, in an attempt to cover himself.

Utahime cocked an eyebrow at him.  “You were bored huh? So you were looking to score? Well as a fellow colleague also on the hunt, allow me to give you a hot tip- look elsewhere because the pickings are slim.”

Gojo opened his mouth to protest again when the man that was all over Utahime returned, champagne bottle in one hand and a package of cups in the other.  “Oi, Utahime-san! Got the cups, shall we have a toast on our way to the club?”

Gojo eyed the man with daggers but Utahime turned, telling him to pop it and pour her a cup. Gojo quickly grasped her forearm, whirling her back towards him.

“Senpai, I think you had enough, you can barely stand.  I can take you home…or…you can come home with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll be…I’ll be your good little kouhai.” His suggestion came off as a plea, he couldn't hide the earnestness in his voice.

Utahime blinked at his hand at her forearm, before looking him square in the eyes.

“Gojo, you go have your fun and I’ll go have mine.”

She jerked her arm away and walked towards the men, leaving him stupefied.  Mei Mei simply gave him a pointed look before looking up towards the tree branches above her where several crows perched, watching the scene below.  A warning not to follow as she’ll be watching, as she walked away.

Shoko was last to move off only because she was lighting another cigarette.  Gojo quickly grabbed her shoulder- “Oi Shoko, Utahime is really drunk.  She might not be thinking straight, she’s a mess.  You...you should really take her home.  Probably best to call it a night.”   The implication of his concern is heavy in the air.

Shoko took a long drag and exhaled it towards his face.  “Utahime’s a big girl Gojo, she can handle herself.  Why have you always struggled to see that?” With that, she rejoined the group as the champagne bottle popped making a mess; the ladies shrieking with delight.

Gojo just stood there, stunned in disbelief.  He could only watch as they walked off, laughing and having a good time without him, his master plan he spent all afternoon crafting to get closer with Utahime spectacularly backfiring in his face. 

Tonight was not his night, not by a long shot.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 3

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shigaraki x Dabi (just this part), Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader (very brief and vague reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut and feels, it's literally just smut, blow jobs, friends(?) with benefits, blow jobs, anal fingering, light degradation (both for shigs and reader), could maybe be interpreted as slight dubcon, dirty talk, slutty dabi, dabi is an asshole, so is tomura, reader has gender neutral pronouns, I'm keeping it fem cause Shigs hates women and calls them that

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the boys share in some good ole roommate bonding activities and Tomura has a blow job induced epiphany.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged and make sure to check my rules!)

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked despite the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut-in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs, yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it, but Tomura wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking evil grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping Tomura's cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin' it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time when they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deepthroat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at that perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little incel baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting his comforter in stains, but he knew Tomura.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring the failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn A plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual jeering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back, nuzzling his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the sensation and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him.

Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura knew he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did—in his post nut, clingy state—he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that. Cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle he made on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the subsequent slamming.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

[seouliie]

bikini bottoms (m)

having a job as a lifeguard on the beach has you doing many things you’ve never done before. stopping fights between a 5 year old and a seagull, spending hours trying to dig a jeep out of a 4 foot hole some doofus had dug, and lastly, giving jung hoseok a blowjob.

(gif from weheartit)

GENRE: e2l, smut, lifeguard!au

WORDS: 2753

MEMBER: jung hoseok

WARNINGS: really only a blowjob, implied smut, possible part two, hoseok is a fuckboy, mention of sexual harassment, there’s banter in this and hoseok slaps yn’s ass, but it’s all playful!!

The wooden chair of the lifeguard tower creaks as you sit down, as if releasing a heavy sigh after a long night of no usage, now to be sat on at the fresh time of 10 am- the start of your work day. From above, the people now rolling in to the beach start appearing, encouraged by the sunny sky and beautiful weather to get on their swimsuits and hop in the clear water.

This was an everyday thing for you- and you loved it. The fresh air seemingly always in the atmosphere, tinted by the salty smell of the sea, the sun, the sand- everything. It was the perfect way to start your day, and the perfect day to end it. Your mornings could never go wrong at the beach.

From the corner of your eye, you can see the outline of a rather familiar figure making his way towards the lifeguard tower, a frown naturally forming onto to your lips.

Well, except for one thing.

Meet Jung Hoseok, the heartthrob of the beach. Not gonna lie, the only reason you haven't filed a complaint for him to get fired was because almost half of the people who come to the beach are teenagers who want a piece of him. Not just him- his dick. If he did evidently get fired, then less people would actually come, meaning less money for you. Yes, you have thought this through before. And you prefer money.

"______!"

You sigh, not wanting to interact with this sex machine at least until you've had your third cup of coffee. Lazily, you respond: "Yes, Hoseok?"

He smiles when you make eye contact with him, his gaze pure and playful. "You left your shoes at the shed! I wanted to bring them to you!" A hand covers his eyes from the rays of the sun, and he lifts his other hand to reveal your pair of dark blue flip-flops hanging off his middle finger.

"I know, Hoseok," you reply. "I leave them on purpose. I don't like the feeling of shoes on a beach." You rake a hand through your hair, your strands getting blown into your eyes from the slight wind.

"Well, I brought them, so you might as well wear it." He smirks as he waves the shoes around mockingly. From afar, the sound of a baseline is audible, hinting that the car of the boy-crazy girls have arrived.

You scoff. "Just throw them up or something. Don't you know how? Weren't you captain of your basketball team?"

Hoseok laughs, a sound that- for some reason- causes your stomach to flurry. "First of all, I was not captain and I barely played since the coach despised me. Secondly, I will not throw these up, and you will come down to get them."

High-pitched laughter rings through your ears, causing your mood to already turn negative. You roll your eyes. "Don't you have some girls to fuck? I can practically hear them calling your name already in their squeaky ass voices like some fourth graders."

At this, the raven haired boy pouts, slight wind brushing his bangs into his eyes. "Come on, I'm trying to be nice, princess."

You bit your lip. The sun was pretty hot today, the wood burning up below your feet. Maybe you should put some comfort between your skin the the fiery hot chair. "Alright fine." You stand up and turn around, going down the ladder one foot at a time.

Little did you know, Hoseok was not focused at all on giving your shoes back. After he saw you climbing down the little wooden stubs, his eyes were trained on your ass, naturally pushed out each step. Once stepping onto the grainy smooth sand, you swiftly grab your shoes from his hand, pulling him out of his trance.

You bend down to slide the soft material onto your feet and shake your head. "God, making me do all this extra work for nothing-"

A hard smack to your ass cuts you off mid-sentence. Jung fucking Hoseok. Almost breaking your neck from looking up so fast, you notice that the human incarnated form of aggravation is not in front of you like he was a second ago. He's halfway up the ladder.

"Hoseok!" You cry, shocked by how he slapped your ass and how he climbed the goddamn thing so fast. "The hell are you doing?"

"Getting away from those girls." He says as he reaches for another slab of woob. "Jesus, you fuck them once, and they get all attached."

The group of girls have already set up their towel on the pale sand, one of them already oiling themselves up. He fucked them all? Like.. at once or all tog- You huff a breath of air. You are not going to be thinking about that right now.

"Not all at once, of course," He calls out, which makes you wonder if you were thinking out loud. "Although it definitely wasn't individual." Hoseok talks with a sly tone, raising a brow at you.

Looking back at the girls, you see them talking amongst themselves. However, they are all turning their heads, looking for one thing- the thing that's sitting at the top of the lifeguard tower.

Realization hits you like a truck. "Jung Hoseok, you are not leaving me with those maniacs."

He snorts, raking a hand through his hair. "Yes you are! I got you your shoes, do me this favor."

You could not believe the audacity of this man. He practically forced you to take the shoes, and now as a 'favor' you had to deal with those hoes who you only wish would get a grip of self worth so they stop chasing after that man? What a great way to start your day.

"Oh my fucking God." Anger is flowing through your veins, taking over your thoughts and actions, and you no longer can feel your sanity. "This is not a fucking favor, this is you manipulating me for you sake, so fuck you slutty bitch!"

The sand is wet and warm as you roll it into a ball, turning around and chucking it at Hoseok’s head. You barely miss his slim face and hit his neck, but still doing damage by getting stuck to his skin. "That's for slapping my ass, asshole."

You miss the way he eyes your leaving figure up and down after wiping the sand off his neck. Oh, he just loved messing with you.

-----

Swimsuits are tight. They curve around one's body perfectly, almost painfully, used for swimming or other water activities. They're actually pretty comfortable, if you do say so yourself, and you take pride in knowing the way your body looks in the bright red one piece of the lifeguard apparel.

But wet swimsuits are a whole 'nother story. Wet swimsuits are the devil themselves. They're sticky and distressing and tight, feeling like hell in spandex form suffocating your body and not letting you get the blood you need. Not to mention they take almost an hour to take off.

"God, can't I just take it off?" You whisper to no one in particular. The pad of your thumb scrolls through Instagram, images of other people's picture-perfect lives on view to the world. Feeling itchy, you continuously adjust your swimsuit, trying to find some relief for the discomfort you currently felt.

Sounds from the door break the much appreciated silent atmosphere you were miraculously blessed with, of course broken by the one and only  Jung Hoseok. "Help me," he quickly says, slamming the door of the hut shut. There's still some sand stuck on his bare upper chest from where you've hit him.

You scoff and look back down to your screen. "Help yourself, Jung. You've clearly been doing that the whole day, anyways." You squeeze your eyes shut as memories from earlier in the day came rushing at you.

The girls approached you right after you walked away from throwing the sand at Hoseok, ignoring the way he screamed your name repetitively. Not only did they waste your time by asking you where Hoseok was, but once you wouldn't let them go up the lifeguard tower, it got into a heated argument and one girl had the audacity to throw you into the fucking water.

She was strong, not gonna lie, but over what? A simple fuck? From the man who probably has a little tic-tac anyways? Oh, how you went off on them.

"They, uh-" Hoseok's voice slightly cracks, and he's talking in a slight panicked way, fast and mumbled. "They sort of attacked me- harassed me."

You look up. "They harassed you? You mean like... harassed harassed or harassed harassed?" He just blinks and shyly points to his trunks.

"Harassed harassed." Your eyes trail down, and the little bulge in Hoseok's pants momentarily shocks you.

"Holy shit, Hoseok."

Eyes wide, he nods. "I know. They fucking went after me once I got down the tower, so I ran here as fast as I could." When his breathing begins to slow, Hoseok moves to stand next to the big wooden table in the center of the room. "God, crazy bitches."

"And you got turned on from that?"

Not from them, he thinks to himself. But he wasn't about to let you know that he was already having his senses heightened after he saw your wet figure in the water.

"Well not exactly. It's kind of, just, you know," he sighs in defeat and shakes his bangs.

"And you want me to help... how?"

Hoseok stares at you, saying nothing. And you realize it.

"No, Hoseok, no way." You click your phone off and set it on the armrest of the wooden chair. "I'm not gonna sleep with you."

He lets out a frustrated groan. "I'm not asking you to sleep with me, just help me deal with this!" His hair comes out slightly ruffled after he rakes his hand through it. "I can't walk around with a fucking tent in my shorts around everybody. There's children!"

It takes all your self control and dignity to not look down at his crotch once again, for the outline is becoming more and more visible as the seconds roll on. And you've got to admit, he doesn't look as small as you thought. "Why should I do that? You've basically ruined my whole day by tricking me into getting down from the tower so I had to deal with those psychos. Not to mention, you slapped my ass and one of them threw me in the goddamn water!"

"Okay, well," Hoseok tries to counter argue. "You... threw sand at me." He knew he wasn't convincing anyone with that. "Please ________ just help me. I swear I'll make it up to you."

You think. You actually think about it. Blame it on the fact that the Jung Hoseok is practically begging you for it. An amused idea runs through your mind as you think of all the things you could make Hoseok do for you, all the embarrassment that would come with it, all the revenge you would finally get. Without saying anything, you make eye contact with his desperate form and stand up, walking towards him. His eyes widen.

"Woah, you're actually gonna-"

"Stop talking." You turn the both of you around and push him onto the chair, kneeling down in front of him. Hoseok is so stunned he doesn't even realize he bumped your phone off the armrest and onto the sandy floor. His breath gets stuck in his throat at the sight of you on your knees, ready to take him in your mouth. You run both of your hands up his thighs before slowly outlining his cock lightly with your fingertips.

"Jesus Christ," he breaks underneath your touch. He couldn't believe he was gonna get sucked off by you, the girl who's hated him since they first met. It was unbelievably hot. He sucks in a harsh breath when you squeeze his clothed dick. "Please don't fucking tease me, ______"

His length hardens in your hand when you begin to sensually rub your palm against it. You would be lying if you said that you weren't even the slightest bit turned on. "Patience, Hoseok," you grin. "God, you're so desperate for me, huh?"

A whimper. Jung Hoseok fucking whimpers.

Dominant, cocky Hoseok, just whimpered. For you. And it went straight to your core.

Rubbing your thighs together, you opt for some relief from the tingling you felt. Hoping to distract yourself, you toy with the waistband of his swim trunks for a few seconds before finally pulling them down his thighs.

It was much different than you would've ever imagined. In the past whenever you thought about his dick, which was rarely ever, you obviously knew he was packing some size considering the amount of times he slept around. However, seeing it in person has outdid all of your previous expectations. His dripping cock had length to it, but the thickness was shocking. It was unbelievably thick.

"Fuck," you whisper. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, your fingertips barely able to touch each other. You give it a light squeeze before slowly sliding up.

Hoseok is watching your every move, his hands forming fists by his side to keep him from thrusting himself into your grip. "_____- shit." He leans his head back, clenching his jaw as you spread his precum around his length, making sure to coat every spot with his juice. The sight of his throat bobbing up and down makes your eyes flutter. God, why is he so hot right now.

"Your so naughty, Hoseok." You lightly trail your tongue up his cock, keeping your eyes on him the whole way up. Wrapping your lips around the head, Hoseok whimpers once again when you begin to suck on the swollen tip. He can't hold back anymore and snakes his hand into your hair, pulling at the roots while letting out deep groans.

When you take all of him in one go, he slowly pushes down on your head so that his tip meets the back of your throat. The sound of you quietly gagging sends him into overdrive, his body shaking from the pleasure. You grasp at his thighs, clawing your nails into his skin. "______, please please please, fuck."

Remembering a tip your friend once gave you, you hollow your cheeks and suck, continuously bobbing your head up and down. Obviously, your friend knows what she's doing, basing off of the way Hoseok lets out a loud vocal moan and thrusts wildly into your mouth. You've never seen him like this- so unhinged and in a way almost pathetically desperate. It was turning you on beyond belief.

He's close and it's obvious, sweat dripping down the side of neck, letting out a string of curses and swears as he gets closer to his high.

"Fuck, _____ don't stop, p-please don't stop." His voice sends a rush of warmth to your core, and his other hand releases the grip on the armrest to join the other in pulling your hair. Both of his hands are grabbing at your head, and you move even faster, giving his throbbing cock a couple swirls with your tongue until finally he's squeezing his eyes shut and releasing his seed into your mouth. The warmth in your throat seems to never end, akin to the strings of moans Hoseok lets out. After swallowing, you release his cock with a pop and wipe his cum off of your chin with the back of your hand.

Hoseok tilts his head back and keeps his hands in your hair, wanting to pause for a while for him to catch his breath. "Goddamn, ______." He lets out a breathless laugh.

You smile breathlessly and rub your hands up to his abs, tracing the outline lightly with your fingertips. His eyes darken again as they watch your lips swollen red and with his cum dripping down the sides. He forces himself to loosen his grip on your hair and slowly pulls his hands back.

You grab it before he can fully retreat. He looks at you, confused. A soft laugh escapes your lips.

"You still owe me a favor, shit head.”

[deepspacedukat]

I do really want to know your reasoning on the Cardassians because sometimes I just go ✨PRETTY✨ and have absolutely no other thoughts. It’s a little embarrassing.

But also, if you were stuck somewhere for like a year who would you pick to live with from Trek and why? I’m picking Jadzia, Kira, Dr. Bashir, and Rom. Also Garak because then I could learn how to sew better.

-Horta-in-Charge

Look, honestly, sometimes the ✨pretty✨ reaction is all I have too lol. Okay, so for the placement reasoning:

Fuck: Garak - The man would absolutely know what he was doing, but I feel like because of his Obsidian Order past he wouldn’t necessarily feel comfortable with something as traceable as a marriage record revealing that he had a weakness (aka his s/o). The sex though...the sex. Not giving that up! Dukat - I mean, the man would know his way around, if you know what I mean. The guy has multiple children so obviously he knows what he’s doing. Might not be smart to marry a villain, but to be his good little slut...? *nods head sagely* Madred - Look, he’s evil. He tortured Picard. But...also...I would let him rail me till I couldn’t stand. No logic on this one. Just ✨dirty thoughts.✨

Marry: Macet - He doesn’t seem as bad as his cousin, and he’s still got the sexy voice, so um...Yeah. Not really any logic with this one either. Just would absolutely take pretty lizard’s last name. Daro - I mean, this one to me is obvious. He seems like he’d be sweet and protective and just perfect husband material, so...yep. We don’t even have an official first name for him, but I’d take his last name. Damar - Ok, so...no logic for this one either...He’s a big, pretty, square lizard. And I’d go there. Tekeny Ghemor - He’s a widower and he’s a very sweet man. 10/10 would call him daddy in bed and take his last name. He also feels like the type of person who would be v protective of the person he loved and since he’s obviously had a kid, he knows what he’s doing in bed...

Kiss: Telle - Tbh, he wasn’t my favorite Cardassian, but he was still cute and rather square. 100% would give this lizard a smooch. Boheeka - Look. LOOK. This man deserved better than the Order making him disappear for Quark’s requisition code. Add that to his slutty little comment about a Dabo girl almost bankrupting him, and I’d definitely kiss him. Also, he’s pretty, so... Ari - This good boy just wanted to protect Iliana!Kira and for Cardassia to have a better future. HE DESERVED BETTER. 10000/10 would smooch. Entek - Bad Lizard™ but would I let him pin me up against a wall and kiss me like a back alley whore? Yes. No logic. Only ✨pretty✨

Hug: Mavek - He was on Terok Nor during the Dominion’s occupation of said station, and he was sweet enough to bring Major Kira her coffee every morning. Look. Any guy who remembers AWAKE JUICE for somebody EVERY DAY has EARNED a hug. At minimum.

Kill: Evek - Look. I have strong feelings about Cardassians. For some reason, he evokes a very visceral reaction. Also I’m convinced he’s one of the ones who suggested the Central Command try to blame Dukat for the weapon smuggling in “The Maquis” Parts 1&2. R.I.P. Danar - Idk why I have this reaction with him?? So many of Vaughn Armstrong’s characters are calming or just give me a different reaction, but with Danar, I...I don’t know. Confusion lizard. R.I.P.

As for your second question, oooooh, I love that idea! I’ll do 5 people since you chose 5.

If it can be anyone from any Trek series, I’d say... Shran, Julian Bashir, Spock, Malcolm Reed, and Dukat (for chaos and laughs). Would we survive? Probably not. Would it be fun? Yes (for me; I guarantee nobody else’s enjoyment but my own).

If it can only be DS9 characters...Bashir, O’Brien, Martok, Garak, and Dukat (again, for chaos and laughs). 

Are both those sets reverse harem situations in my brain? ...Perhaps...