#this is literal shit but i have been working on it for days

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ baby daddy!satoru who wants needs you back.

in fact, you should've known he was playing a game the instant that text blinked onto your screen: pick your daughter up from his place, not school. a casual oops, totally forgot it was your day! that sent a shiver of unease down your spine.

what choice did you really have? the entire drive to that too-familiar house, your nerves were a tangled mess. pulling into the driveway, parking crookedly in your haste, the only thing screaming in your head was this used to be ours.

this small, unassuming house, a world away from the sterile grandeur of his old penthouse. the first grand gesture of your marriage had been this new place.

"the bigger the house," satoru had murmured against your bare skin that first night, "the further i'd have to be from you." so, your mornings had begun with tangled limbs and hurried kisses, and your evenings had ended in the same breathless way.

it had been the kind of dizzying happiness you foolishly thought would last forever. but then the cracks had started to show – the endless work trips, the hollow promises of things changing. he had gotten better, ironically, after the papers were signed.

satoru stood in the doorway, that infuriatingly charming, utterly knowing smirk plastered across his face. your gaze darted around the living room, a quick, almost desperate search. "where's she?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

his reply was a casual flick of his wrist. "oh, she's at a friend's."

a harsh scoff escaped you. arms crossed tight against your chest, you scoffed, "what? why? i drove all the way out here!"

"you were coming anyway," he purred, those soft puppy-dog eyes locking onto yours. "i can bring her back later. thought we could, you know… catch up."

"catch up?" you repeated, incredulous. "are you serious right now? we're not catching up, satoru. we're divorced."

but those eyes. they always had been your undoing. and somehow, against your better judgment, you found yourself agreeing to this ridiculous "catch-up." you'd pictured awkward small talk over lukewarm tea, maybe a stale cookie.

not this. not being bent in a cruel mating-press, his body a brutal, insistent press against yours, fucking you with a desperate hunger that stole your breath and any semblance of rational thought.

"god, it's been so fucking lo- long since i felt this," he grunted, his hips slamming into you with a possessive force that made you cry out. "this tight little cunt clenching - shit - around me like that."

"ah, 'toru," you gasped, your fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back, clinging on for dear life.

"been even longer si- since i heard you say my name like that." his sweaty bangs were plastered to his forehead, a flush creeping up his neck. his pace was relentless, each thrust deeper, harder, a raw, primal need driving him. he hadn't touched anyone since you, didn't want to.

tears streamed down your face, a messy mix of pain and something dangerously close to pleasure. and that bastard, your soon-to-be-not-ex-husband-anymore, thought you looked beautiful. his thick cock stretched you, filled you completely, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

"did you miss this, huh?" he muttered, his voice thick with lust. "because i fucking did. bet- bet no one else makes you feel like this."

a choked whine escaped you as his teeth sank into your shoulder, a stinging sensation hitting. you can't think of a response, literally. you can't even think of your own name - you can't remember.

all that mattered was the way he was making you feel, the dizzying spiral of sensation. and in the name of "catching up," he makes you come, at least half a dozen shattering orgasms ripping through you before he finally relented, burying his face in the space between your tits.

he looked up at you, panting, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. "so… about moving back in?"

fuck those puppy-dog eyes.

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotawesome]

i’ve done this repeatedly with the r/Letterkenny subreddit.

five years ago, someone posted this meme. it’s not even an irrelevant meme, because Letterkenny has an episode about beating the shit out of nazis, and how that is a cool and good thing to do.

the response was immediate. some anonymous shithead reported the meme for ‘targeted harassment at me’. i reapproved the post and made my own, explicitly saying that if nazis felt threatened, then good. this is a threat.

both posts were reported dozens of times, and i kept them both approved. i banned a hundred users in one day. and i kept banning assholes when they showed up. these whiny little pissbabies literally cannot help but telling on themselfs.

i have been the mod of this group for over 6 years now. the sub has 250,000 members. and every time something like this happens, i have to ban fewer and fewer people. at the start i was always the first one to comment that their shit was unacceptable. now i just have to sit back because everyone else is now jumping down their throats before i even get a chance. tl;dr: setting an example works. it just takes a few words. give your balls a tug and fuckin’ get after it.

only thing that comes to mind today.

[xomakara]

Back To Me

SUMMARY |  Mingyu or Hansol? You finally decide who you want to be with.

PAIRINGS |  Mingyu (SVT) x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked 

GENRE |  smut, just pure unadulterated smut, friends with benefits, angst

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  profanity, lovemaking, unprotective sex, fingering, breast fondling, creampies, dirty talk, kissing, sucking, biting, hair gripping/pulling, praising, hair gripping, oral sex (f.receiving), pet names

LENGTH |  7,662 words 

TAGLIST |  –

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @cosyhomenet @winerys-collection

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Thank you @lovetaroandtaemin as usual for beta-reading these fics that I churn out. I really appreciate it, bestie 💚 Here is the last part of this fwb!Mingyu series. I hope you all like it! Likes, comments, and reblogs (mainly reblogs) are appreciated~

If you haven't read the other parts, you can find them here:  What Are We? (Mingyu x Reader) If We… (Vernon x Reader)

Seventeen Masterlist

Mingyu feels like shit.

Not literally though. Physically, he's perfectly healthy. It's emotionally, his mind feels like absolute shit. It's no surprise that his mental health is a tad bit fragile these days. This has got to be the most stressful time in his entire life so far.

He can't concentrate properly in class or do his school work at home properly without his eyes blurring and his hand cramping up from the constant movement of his wrist. The stupid test coming up next week that is due for 20 percent of the entire course grade is already freaking him out so much that it is the first thing to pop into his mind whenever he awakes. Not even the hot piece of ass beside him the past few nights.

She isn’t you and will never be you.

It has been two weeks and three days since Hansol has started dating you. Not that Mingyu was keeping count or anything. Absolutely not. His free hand that isn’t holding his phone squeezes his forehead in annoyance. For the past fifteen minutes Mingyu has been trying so hard to focus and study.

But everything fucking hurt. And every time he flips through the pages of his books, the words keep swimming in front of him. So now here he lay on his back, on top of his unmade bed with a head filled with nothing but you and you. And the fact that it's only Monday is adding to his aggravation.

When he sees the text he received from you, he swears his vision has become fogged by the words he's reading over and over.

'Yes.'

An ache pierces his heart like a dagger stabbing at his very chest. How could this happen to him? This isn't how he imagined things would happen. How has it gotten this far and this complicated? Sure he's asked you a million times to be his girlfriend. Sure, you always turn him down, but still, you keep finding yourself back in his bed almost every night of the week. Sure you'd refused and protested countless times, but did he force you to do any of these things?

Is this just an endless cycle?

He squeezes his eyes shut. A sigh. Then another.

Who is he kidding?

Of course he’s being delusional. How could he have just presumed that because the both of you continued sleeping together and occasionally saw each other throughout the day for food or just to hangout together—no matter who they were with—means that things would go his way. But Mingyu guessed it was his fault for never pursuing a real, emotional relationship with you. Maybe if he hadn't set those boundaries from the start of your no-strings relationship, then none of these things would be happening right now.

Sure it might've taken longer than it should for him to realize how he's actually developed feelings. Why can't you realize that he knows what the two of you have is real, and it’s strong? You two are perfect for each other.

Can't you see that?

All those times you and he have kissed, the times he’s touched you intimately, the amount of nights and mornings the both of you have fucked, the number of times the two of you cuddled afterwards, the numerous conversations the two of you have had duringall that time. How could you not see what Mingyu sees?

Has he ever expressed it properly? Or are you just choosing to not see what's directly in front of you? Is there someone else? Does Hansol take you in and give you more tender loving care than he can provide for you? Is he better to you than Mingyu ever could?

Is he not enough?

Maybe. Just maybe.

Perhaps Mingyu hasn't done enough.

Hasn't shown or proven himself to be a suitable partner and be worthy of being able to love you the way you ought to be loved.

And it pisses him off.

He’s fucking jealous. So fucking enraged.

Because all these years, it was only him. Your attention. Your affection. Your time. All for Mingyu alone. Only him. But now? Now things were getting out of his control. Things have changed. And it pisses him the fuck off.

Out of sight, out of mind, was what Mingyu told himself. But in this situation, where it concerns you, it’s different. Seeing you and him together hurts, yet the more he sees, the more the desire to rip Hansol's arms away from you, snatch you away and hide you from his gaze gets stronger.

He needs you. Badly.

Then maybe... he’ll see and stop denying the fact that he's absolutely in love with you.

He tried to see other women after he found out you were dating Hansol, hoping it would do him good. But there was no use. Even while on a date, he would think of you and wish you were the girl in front of him instead.

Mingyu doesn't know when, how or why exactly, but somewhere in the middle of your little 'friends with benefits' thing, he began having feelings for you, and he had no one but himself to blame.

Because while Mingyu knows that he was the one that set that clear boundary between the both of you, it had to be his heart, the one foolishly going ahead and falling for you. It’s only in his fantasies where Mingyu is able to say whatever and do whatever he'd want to you, as many times as he wants and whenever he'd like to. That isn’t what’s actually happening. Because, if it were his choice, no one else would be touching or holding your pretty hands, no one else would see that sleepy smile of yours, or hear you laugh the way he did. No one would be able to wake up next to you, or hold you at night and hear you talk and cry about how the things of your life were weighing too heavy. Only him.

"Dude, you okay?" his best friend's voice interrupts and brings his attention back to reality. Wonwoo sits there, a book open on his lap and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

Mingyu lowers his phone with a sigh, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. "Honestly, I feel like shit, man. I just..."

"If you had only confessed to her before, things would be different," he gives Mingyu a serious look. Wonwoo sighs and leans back, tilting his chair with his foot and rolling backwards on the wheels, facing Mingyu from across the room. "Out of all the other girls you fucked with, Y/N is the longest one you've had yet. Most of the girls that you get involved with never last longer than two weeks, yet for two years she's been stuck by your side," he pauses with a nod, glancing upwards before returning back. "Either she's incredibly loyal to you and tolerates your bullshit, or the two of you really have something special," his deep eyes scrutinize, studying and contemplating.

"I don't know man, but lately, it just hasn't been the same," Mingyu props his arm on his forehead, resting on the pillows. "She keeps ignoring me and hanging out with him," he pouts. "It feels like I did something wrong when I didn't do shit."

Wonwoo sighs, setting his book and notebook down on his desk before standing and walks towards the bathroom. "Honestly I feel like it's both of your faults," his low voice mumbles, staring at his reflection in the mirror and fixing his hair. He glanced towards Mingyu from the cracked door. "We're heading out for dinner tonight."

"Who's coming?" Mingyu asked.

"Everyone."

"Y/N and Hansol too?" Wonwoo nods, and Mingyu lets out a groan.

"Don't be such a child. How are you going to even handle seeing your girlfriend around when we all share the same mutual friends?" Wonwoo takes off his shirt, walking into the closet and fishing out a clean shirt from the hanger.

"She's not my girlfriend," the tall man mutters. "Also, not so great that you'll all be laughing and having a good time and all while I'm moping on the side."

"Not really our fault dude. Maybe next time, try being honest and not fucking up." Wonwoo takes the comb in his hand, styles his hair and looks at himself once more. He takes off the reading glasses on his face, adjusts his round-framed eyeglasses, then grabs a denim jacket. "Hurry up and get ready."

"How the fuck are you supposed to help if you don't even understand," Mingyu stands and mutters the curse to himself. Wonwoo is already walking out the room and closing the door.

"Mingyu hurry your big ass up, or we'll be leaving without you," Seungcheol yells through the door and knocks a few times before walking away. 

"Alright I'm coming," Mingyu calls out, moving quickly and picking the first outfit his hands caught. He quickly gets dressed, the stress of the finals wearing on him and adding to his anxiety, not knowing what he might run into next.

You. With your boyfriend.

Just fucking great.

Dinner that night was weird.

For you. Not everyone else.

When your mutual friends decide to get together at a restaurant for dinner and fun. Hansol, who you had been hooking up with for awhile now, clings to your arm. With every laugh or chuckle, he hugs you tight to him. Mingyu sits next to you, silent and glum. You've known him long enough to know his signs. Something is eating at him.

Your heart aches at seeing how crestfallen he seems. And despite being here with Hansol, the fake boyfriend of yours, you keep thinking back and forth between the two men.

Dinner is awkward, to say the least, sitting between Hansol and Mingyu, whose own plate lay abandoned as he sips his alcohol and sighs heavily to himself. He would talk to the others, but not to you, and it hurt more than it should've. Hansol seems a little concerned too, not that Mingyu is outwardly acting odd or hostile towards him or anything. He even goes so far as to squeeze Hansol's shoulders and slap his shoulder, laughing.

When it comes to talking to you or making contact, Mingyu is absolutely avoiding you. He does everything in his power, even ignoring you at times. Mingyu's pained expression is nearly impossible to deal with. His sad and distressed gaze is nearly ripping your insides to shreds, so much you wanted to reach and rub the frown and lines in his face away.

“Mingyu,” you place a hand on his thigh, “you okay?”

"Yeah," his voice comes out quieter and subdued. Mingyu turns his head away quickly, only to find Hansol's worried gaze searching him, noticing the subtle behavior.

"Something wrong man?" he frowns a little, brows knit together in question.

"Don't worry about me. The real question is are you guys doing okay?" Mingyu coughs slightly, and you both feel the tension of the atmosphere building. Mingyu seems off today.

"What makes you think we're not alright?" Hansol smiles lightly and glances over at you with an innocent stare, pressing a chaste kiss upon your lips, and you smile softly.

You don’t have much time to think before Hansol's soft mouth captures yours, the tenderness of the kiss distracting you momentarily. However, it does the exact opposite for Mingyu, whose mood becomes foul. You can tell Mingyu is looking on with his hands clenched. "Just asking, is all," he downs the drink in his cup, sighing as his eyes land on the both of you, stealing a glance that doesn’t go unnoticed. But you don't have the time to register the slight hurt, jealousy and rage that flashes in his orbs. Or how his smile disappears almost instantaneously at seeing Hansol kissing you.

"Can I ask what's eating you then?" Hansol raises a brow, concern filling his stare.

"I just had a stressful week, that's all," his eyes harden, masking the hurt. A pause and a momentary stillness comes.

"Nothing too bad, right?" Hansol shifts closer, slapping his back hard.

"Just exams," Mingyu responds, shrugging him off. "Don't worry too much."

The night wears on, and finally, Mingyu leaves before the rest of you do. The other friends depart before them, leaving you and Hansol to stand and finish your drinks.

"Well that was really something else," he chuckles dryly and breathes deeply, swallowing the cold beverage down, and you sit silently on his right side, leaning your arm against the surface of the table, head propped on the palm of your hand. "Feel free to give me a heads up if I should back down and let him win."

You sigh softly and turn to meet Hansol's eyes, deep and warm pools. But despite his attractive face and the fact that he’s a great guy, he’s no Kim Mingyu. "I just...don't know." You admit, pursing your lips. Hansol has been nothing short of great and a generous lover and guy.

But he isn't Kim fucking Mingyu, you reasoned with yourself.

"It's a complicated situation, I won't rush you," he nods and slips on his jacket. Hansol offers a hand to you with an endearing and honest smile, one that brings butterflies to your stomach. "Why don't you see him tonight? Then decide? I think it's time."

"Really?" you’re surprised, taking his offered hand. You bite your lip and squeeze his hand once.

"Go," he lets out a sigh and kisses the back of your hand, smiling. "Before he's gone, and there is no chance left."

It doesn’t take long for Mingyu to return home, unlocking and swinging his door open. He drops his keys in the basket and drags a hand along the wall as he shuts the door, then drops his leather jacket down on the sofa.

He’s exhausted; too drained mentally, physically and emotionally for this shit.

He lets out a frustrated growl, one so powerful it startles even himself when it comes out.

There are more reasons for Mingyu to not want to be around the others anymore, and it’s frustrating, knowing he’ll have to do a hell lot of pretending that he’s fine. In front of them. When it is in fact far from that. He takes out his phone, the screen bright and a picture of the both of you was the wallpaper, smiling so cutely, so happily that the frustration and irritation within Mingyu only builds higher and higher.

Hansol is treating you well, isn't he? He must be, judging the way you stare up at him with loving orbs and that fucking grin. How could he ever do better and love you more than that fucker is?

It pisses him off to no end.

"Mingyu," a voice speaks.

He jerks his gaze up and notices you standing by the door..

He sighs, sitting down on the couch and groaning in his hand. "Y/N what are you doing here? How'd you get in?" He mumbles.

"I still have the spare, remember?" your voice comes  softly and hesitantly. Mingyu inhales deeply, a shiver racking throughout his frame.

"Shouldn't you be with Hansol?" his eyes meet yours, cold. "I thought you guys are in love and stuff," the tone has bite, and he refuses to break contact. His fist clenches and unclenches, eyes narrowing, staring.

"Mingyu, please," you whisper brokenly. "Don't."

"Why not Y/N? Am I just some sort of fool to play around with? Is that all you saw me as, as some stupid person that wouldn't mind being made a fool of?" Mingyu's head is filled with all sorts of images, thoughts and feelings.

"That’s not—"

"Then what?" he interrupts, jaw ticking in anger. "What is it exactly you saw in me? For two whole years, is this all we were worth? Sexual companions and nothing more?" Mingyu snaps, brows pinched and his jawline taut. "Or maybe for the longest time, I was a joke to you. Or a convenient person to spend your lonely nights with," he doesn’t intend for his words to cut so deep, but they do, and when you cringe visibly and flinch, his chest tightens in regret and guilt.

"You think I don't know how badly I messed up, Mingyu? You don't think I regret not giving a proper answer when you kept asking me to be your girlfriend?" tears cloud your vision. "You don't think I keep feeling the pangs of pain and confusion, with so many what-if's and maybe's whenever I am near you?" you approach slowly, standing in front of Mingyu. His expression remains hardened, refusing to express any emotion and let himself feel weak. "I'm scared, Mingyu," your voice lowers, whispering and afraid to meet his gaze, as the truth will probably get spilled at a moment's notice.

"Don't do that," his tone softens a fraction. "Please, don't pull that bullshit," he looks away.

"Mingyu, I'm scared that if we take things further, and we inevitably drift apart, then what do I have left?" the ache in your heart twists and pierces sharply. "What will I do if I get addicted to you, and everything that has happened up to this point falls away?" the air shifts, as silence weighs between. Tears fill the rims of your eyes, and you finally look up, locking your gaze on Mingyu's brown irises. "What will I do if you grow bored of me like all the others you've been with before?" your voice cracks slightly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

His features relax, hardened gaze becoming vulnerable. He stands, reaching out. You watch as his large hand reaches and cups your cheek gently, carefully. He steps closer, holding your face delicately and pulling you in towards him, soft gaze fixated on your orbs, filled with nothing but sincerity. The back of his fingers caress you, trailing along your jawline.

"Y/N," your name falls off his lips so effortlessly, a hush from his lips. You press forward, wrapping your arms around Mingyu's middle. And for the first time in a long time, the both of you let things go naturally, simply standing, embracing each other. He holds you tighter, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the faint scent of the shampoo he knows you use every morning, memorizing it in case you become nothing but a memory. Mingyu's larger frame dwarfs yours, shielding you, embracing you tightly against his muscular torso.

"Mingyu, I'm sorry, I really am," the whisper is quiet, and yet it cracks in the silence between, almost as if it has never existed. "I should've talked to you, communicated and been truthful. I was just so scared and I felt like, ‘this might end’." The admission is tender.

His lips are set on your forehead, lingering for a few seconds, and then Mingyu pulls away, taking hold of your face in his large, steady palms. The dark depths of his brown eyes hold your gaze, reflecting the slight hint of emotion behind it. Your fingers come and grasp hold of his wrists. You almost allow yourself to melt when Mingyu brushes your hair, fixing the strand out of your face and running a finger along the skin below your ear. The tips of his fingers stay there for the next seconds.

"Y/N, I need an honest answer from you, and a direct one," a moment passes, and Mingyu's words still hang in the air. You pull away and glance back with teary eyes. "Do you really and honestly have feelings for me?" his orbs flicker downward, lips pressed in a thin line. He won't speak until you do.

"Yes," it takes you less than a second to utter the one word, yet it feels like an eternity has passed. "Please..." the word leaves your lips. "I need you."

"What about Hansol?" his jaw clenches briefly.

"No, Mingyu," your teeth nibble your bottom lip. "Right now, it's just you and me. Just us," you begin, and he presses you back, pushing you slowly into the wall. Mingyu leans his head back and takes a moment to collect his thoughts before swooping down to claim your soft lips. 

Your arms move swiftly, holding onto his shoulders, clawing at the fabric of his shirt, the contact sending electricity through him. He continues the desperate action, deepening and molding, matching your actions. He makes no attempt to stop or pull away. And despite the strength and intensity behind the kiss, his tenderness isstill there, coming through in every sense of the word.

For so many nights, you've dreamed of and reminisced upon these past experiences of Mingyu kissing you, just like he is. Inhaling the smell and fragrance which was utterly his own. Of the sweet taste, of the taste that never seems to diminish nor fade away despite how long it's been.

Like it's his very first kiss, and he's desperate to never lose such an unforgettable taste. It’s the urge to say, “Fuck everything else, who cares.” You had never wanted to get so lost in him. The heat of his hands burns on your skin, even after the touch is gone. He moves, unable to stay still while kissing you. A small groan from the back of your throat elicits from the pressure against the wall, and he hoists you up, forcing your legs around his waist. He's immediately hard for you.

His arousal thickens, his body stiff. Mingyu pants, eyes closing, groaning softly as you roll your hips. His hand lowers and squeezes the flesh of your ass, grinding and thrusting his lower half with desperate movement, making sure to match your rhythm.

When it's time, you want to savor it. To commit everything into memory, every curve, slope and dip of his muscular figure.

"Say my name," he purrs into your ear. "I want to hear it."

"Mingyu," it falls from you softly, an echo in his ears and an unadulterated moan of a prayer.

He carries you to the couch and sits, bringing your bodies as close as humanly possible. He runs his lips up your neck, making his way back to the lips he loves so desperately, tongues fighting for dominance. "Again, baby girl. Please," he whispers against your lips. His hot breath mingles with yours as his fingers trace every crevice of your figure, his lips hungry and demanding.

Mingyu wants to taste you in ways you could only ever imagine. In ways you want, no, need so badly.

"Again," he growls, eyes trained on you, hunger clear in his eyes as he stares into you. "Say it."

"Mingyu," you’re practically pleading, staring deep into his eyes. "Mingyu," you whisper into the kiss and feel the vibrations in his throat. He smiles against your mouth and pushes back your hair, continuing to move in the most intimate position, to match his every rock against you.

"It sounds so good when you call my name like that." The growl is deep from his throat, and his words slur from intoxication, from being drunk off the very essence of you and only you. "Did you and Hansol fuck a lot like we did?" The thought and mention of someone else brings his desire down temporarily, but the satisfaction to be one with you is far stronger.

"Why? What are you going to do if we did?" The daring tone in your voice is unexpected.

“Gonna fuck you so good so that you forget any name but mine, and any guy but me. So fucking good you can only scream my name and remember that you were made for me," he groans and pants, hips bucking. "So good that you won't even think of another cock but mine." His hands draw your shirt above your head, and his lips leave yours, moving down to your throat. He latches onto the sensitive spots and sucks, tongue dipping into the crevices, tasting and savoring every part of your body he has the pleasure of reaching. Mingyu sucks, tongue swirling patterns, and he presses into the bite, his hips raised. "And so good that you'll be satisfied by nobody but me and only me."

He rips his own shirt off before proceeding, mouthing down and nipping at the valley in-between your breasts, sucking a small hickey at the spot.

“What if Wonwoo and Seungcheol come back early? What happens if they see what's going on between us, Mingyu?" You gasp.

"Let them watch. What I do with you doesn't concern them, or anybody for that matter," he growls, looking into your eyes. "We've fucked at all those parties, in dark alleys and dark bedrooms when everyone's around. What's one more show for them to see?"

His audacity is almost unbelievable. Mingyu never did mind putting on a show in the most extreme and risky manner. It was a clear sign of his adrenaline and recklessness. Or he’s gone so crazy for you that nobody matters at this point in time.

"Can’t we fuck in a bed for once? Please? I can't count on all of my fingers how many times you’ve fucked me against walls, and desks and tables," you argue, lightly shoving Mingyu back. He laughs and nods, following suit and backing away. He lifts you effortlessly, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and wrap your legs securely around his waist. You nuzzle the spot under his jaw, whispering "Good boy."

He groans softly in response.

The moment his bedroom door opens, Mingyu practically throws you on the mattress and hovers. He's quick to pull off the rest of your clothes and toss them elsewhere, not worrying where they may end up.

You tug on his belt and throw it to the ground. Mingyu kicks off his pants and boxers next, quickly. Once he's stripped and bare for you, he parts your legs further and moves between them, caging your smaller frame in as he reaches up to hold the headboard with his fist. You run your hands up his toned torso, all the way up, and your fingers graze and tickle the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me what you want, and it's yours," his gaze holds an unfamiliar edge. Something foreign and different, dark and dangerous. It awakens a part of you that makes your muscles tighten.

"Anything?"

"Anything," he answers quickly.

Your fingers card through the silky black strands on Mingyu's scalp. "Want you to eat me out, Gyu. Wanna fuck myself on your face."

With a smirk and a roll of his eyes, he starts his way south on your body. He pecks down your chest, between the valley of your breasts and lower. Leaving light marks and red patches, the slight pain brings out the need and want within.

"Missed me, baby?" a smug grin stretches as his nose bumps your clit, leaning down to leave feathery kisses along the inside of your inner thigh. "How badly did you miss this?"

"So fucking much," you grit, hands curling into his hair.

"Tell me about it," Mingyu kisses the sensitive spots and teases, adding in light nips every now and then. The vibrations from his throat shoot all the way up to his tongue, and you moan at the contact. "Felt so empty and incomplete when you couldn't have me?" The tease is clearly evident as his large hands spread your thighs, a pleased and smug hum leaving his mouth as he pushes his tongue flat.

"Fuck," you grip tighter, tugging on the dark strands and throwing your head back into the pillow. Your feet dig into his back and shoulders for leverage, attempting to gain back control, but Mingyu won’t budge and seems perfectly content staying where he is and letting his mouth and tongue do the work. Mingyu continues to press against your folds and lap along them slowly, eyes trained on your expression, on your lips parted in ecstasy and the hazed look of bliss that coats your orbs.

"Look at that," Mingyu says, flicking your clit with his finger before replacing his fingers with his tongue, "That's my good girl."

He continues, tongue tracing all the right places, stimulating each part, pressing and circling your bundle of nerves over and over. You whimper, holding tighter onto the mattress, digging in your nails.

"Who," Mingyu pauses, smirking wickedly up at you. "Who is making you feel this way?"

"You, only you," the cry leaves you before you know it.

"My name, baby. Say my name," he licks across once, causing you to shake, before a shudder shoots down your spine.

"Oh fuck, please," a desperate sob comes out, and a broken moan follows. 

"My name, Y/N," He punctuates every syllable with a torturously slow drag of his tongue. He knows just how to break you. How to leave you at his mercy, so that you’ll be nothing but his. Only his.

"Mingyu," you whine, and he groans in response, a satisfied sound.

"Good job, baby girl," a deep whisper into your thigh. His hands pin your legs apart, preventing them from trapping his head or slowing him down. Mingyu closes his mouth around you and sucks, tongue darting to lick inside. You arch your back off of the sheets, unable to speak coherently or think straight. "Keep talking," Mingyu breathes. "Tell me how fucking great my mouth feels."

"Holy shit, oh shit," the string of curses falls from your lips.

"Give me more; don't hold out. I want to hear all of it. Give it all to me," the fire of his words is fuelled when he returns to circle the flat of his tongue against your clit, and you let go, free falling into the abyss.

Your orgasm rocks through you, and you whine at the overwhelming sensation, arching your spine and gripping his hair. Mingyu moans, continuing his movements.

He holds himself up on both of his elbows, tucking his head and grinning, satisfied with his actions. Your breathing remains heavy as he pulls himself up, closer. He braces himself on his forearms, hovering, looking down at you, a small smile and contentment settling on his features.

Mingyu's right hand moves to cup the side of your neck, his thumb stroking across your collarbone. You turned, opening your eyes slowly to gaze up at his handsome face. The soft lighting washes over his bare shoulders, accentuating the outline, the dips and crevices of his body. "Hey," he leans down, nose bumping gently.

"Hey yourself," the giggle bubbles out, and you run a hand across the back of Mingyu's neck and down his back. "So..." you hum, shuffling in your spot to meet his gaze head-on.

"So..." Mingyu imitates playfully, a twinkle and glint reflecting the faintness of the light in his orbs.

You laugh, hooking a leg over his waist. His nose comes down and trails across your neck and shoulder, his warm lips grazing skin. "Are you going to keep staring? Or..." you lift a brow, smirk evident.

"Someone's eager," Mingyu's fingers dig into the sheets, his length brushing your skin. The familiar throb of desire begins to grow as his length drags.

"And someone's taking their precious sweet time," you pout.

"Let me savor this," he whispers into the column of your throat. "I missed you and your body, everything about you." He kisses, tongue sliding against flesh.

"You know how to make a woman swoon, don't you?" you hum, letting out a soft gasp when the pad of his thumb begins circling your entrance, lightly stroking.

"I only do that when the woman's you, so I'll take it as a compliment." His fingers sink into you with no warning, filling you entirely and curling immediately in all the ways you need and want.

"Shit," you let out a moan.

Mingyu kisses along your neck as his fingers thrust, withdrawing them slowly. His head is bent forward so his lips can find the pulse-point along your throat, and his body is flush against yours as he resumes kissing and sucking and nibbling there, allowing the warmth of your body, the sound of your whimpers to guide him.

"Does that feel good, baby girl?" His thumb curls upwards with his last few thrusts. He nibbles and kisses around the column of your throat before nips just under your chin. His breath washes over your neck, down your neckline, and across your jaw before returning to your earlobe. Your hands scrape lightly at the muscles of his back as he bites the skin behind your ear.

"Ah fuck. Need you, Mingyu," Your words fall out so effortlessly, not holding a care in the world.

He withdraws his fingers and settles his cock against your folds, coating it thoroughly. Slowly, Mingyu rocks his hips and allows his length to slip into you. Once he is fully buried into you, he pauses. You run your hands down his chest and to his shoulders before grasping the taut flesh of his bicep and drawing him down and on top of you. His lips capture yours again, and he shifts his weight onto his arms again. He rolls his hips against you and slides slowly and firmly in and out of you.

God, he fills you so well. Nothing compares. No man compares to the sensations and sparks, not in the same way, nor to the extreme lengths, which he causes in you. Mingyu's nose trails along the skin of your neck, and when his lips press a tender kiss to your throat, you know you wouldn't be able to survive if you were ever without his touches and affection once again.

"Mingyu," a near silent whisper, so light that the smallest breath would send it away, "I... I love you."

His thrusts slow.

His eyes shoot up at the same instant.

Mingyu stares, gazing at you intently. Your hand cups the back of his neck, and you use the other one to brush back his fringe. Mingyu leans his head into your touch, staring, gazing. He breathes slowly, heavily, "Say it again."

He wants to hear it. His large, warm hand slides up and down your cheek, just watching.

"I love you," you turn your lips into his palm, eyes closing. "I love you, Mingyu." You whisper against his palm, the heat and warmth radiating off his skin. "So, so much."

There’s a shift. Something in the air changes when the words fall from your lips and lands onto his.

Mingyu groans, his hand finding yours. He entwines his fingers with yours and pins the limb by the side of your head. "Shit, shit baby, I love you too."

You pull his head forward and kiss him, and as his body is pressed against your naked flesh, all you know is Mingyu's heart pounding hard against you as he buries his face into your neck.

His eyes screw shut tight before repositioning and sitting upright, and you follow, straddling and moving to wrap your arms and legs around him as he grabs onto you, clinging tightly, skin against skin, bare, vulnerable and open. Your breasts press against his torso, and his strong arms wrap around your upper back as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck.

His scent overwhelms and surrounds you, leaving you to only focus on Mingyu. And as he begins rolling his hips in a smooth and gentle rhythm, you focus solely on him, letting your senses be completely captivated by Kim Mingyu and his warmth and being.

Everything feels different.

"I love you," he punctuates. Mingyu keeps repeating the sentence, and as you kiss him, his lips are all over the place, and you’re gasping out the very same words, arching your neck and revealing his name. "I love you. I love you so much, Y/N," his thrusts pick up tempo. The warmth of him surrounds you and wraps and tightens around you.

The angle intensifies the sensation. It increases everything, and his cock hits the spot deep in you. "Fuck," you whisper. "Please, Mingyu, I-"

You're not quite sure exactly what it is you're asking him, but you know, instinctively, you're not the only one who needs more, wants more. He clutches harder, brings you impossibly closer. Your fingers dig into his back. Your head rests on his chest, ear pressed above his heart, hearing its thump against your ears. The noises you make are unadulterated now as Mingyu rocks, grinds and presses into your core, brushing sensitive nerve bundles and sending bursts of pleasure into your nerves.

"I'm yours," Mingyu mutters, gripping you tighter, "and only yours."

He spills deep inside you as he has done numerous times before, but the experience feels different this time, a step taken far greater than the usual sex the two of you engage in. The fact of the matter that the two of you had admitted to the feelings you've been carrying out over these past two years means a lot, everything, to the both of you. You can feel it in the depths of your hearts as he fills and spends himself inside you.

"Stay," Mingyu whispers, placing a delicate, soft and careful peck along the curve of your jaw. His hands slide along your back, the act sensual.The way his fingers dance along your spine is feather-light.

"Do you really think I'd want to go anywhere?" your lips connect with the place just beside his ear. He shifts, shuffling the two of you slowly so that you're on your backs once more, and his large form is still towering over yours and above you.

"Still," Mingyu burrows, face nuzzling and brushing. "I like that you're here. I want you to always be here." His eyes remain half-lidded and heavy when he peeks down and meets your gaze. He takes a long and hard look at you before speaking once more, "Please," a pleading and desperate beg. "Stay, and please stay for good."

"What? You want me to live here?" You raise a brow.

"Would be the easiest solution," Mingyu says, burying his face once more in the crook of your neck. He takes a deep inhale, nostrils expanding. The fingers continue drawing along your skin, never stopping.

"What about Wonwoo and Seungcheol? Won't they say something?" You let out a small laugh, shifting and wiggling to get comfortable under his weight.

"Let me take care of that," he doesn't budge, only stays put. "What about Hansol? Should I be concerned about him? Or others?"

"There's nobody," you brush your hand through his dark locks and chuckle softly, "Never was. We never really dated. It was fake, just hookups. Promise," you grip and hold him as close as possible, never wanting to let him go.

"Sooooo... this is real?" he asks carefully and curiously, almost unsure.

"What do you think?" a laugh, snort, and scoff combined.

"Hmmm, sounds fake." You pinch the muscle, and Mingyu recoils in surprise and shoots you a look before grinning.

"Sounds super real," You snort and shove at his chest, looking into his orbs, and smile.

"Yeah?" the sparkle of his eyes widens, shining.

"Yes, you handsome himbo," your grin matches his.

"Fuck off," his grin only widens more, and the widening spreads to the apples of his cheeks.

"Nah," you sigh, draw the hand across the expanse of the skin, and reach up to cup and caress the side of his face. "I'm sticking around for a long time."

"So you're saying that you finally want to be my girlfriend?" The question is smug, and his words drip with all forms of confidence.

"Only after two years and after a lot of pestering and whining," you mutter the answer.

Mingyu doesn't stop the stupid, lovesick grin plastered on his face from widening any more as he peppers kisses up and along your jaw, pecks scattered all over. His broad, strong arms circle your waist and pull you closer, hold tighter and hug. It's so much. Far too much, and you melt into the embrace, reciprocating and winding your arms around his neck. "About time."

"Shut up."

Mingyu hugs you closer and sighs in contentment and utter joy. It feels as if the weight on his shoulders is lifted, and you wonder why it took so long for the both of you to end up in this moment, being able to freely enjoy and love one another as you truly wish, feeling free for once after hiding it for the past two years.

Hansol sits at the cafe table, spinning his coffee cup around with a bored and unamused expression and gaze. The buzz and bustle is not entertaining in the slightest, but the vibe, people-watching and atmosphere of a cafe is something Hansol is fond of.

You arrive at the location at 1pm on the dot and spot him almost immediately, walking over, shooting a nervous and guilty smile as the seat across him becomes occupied by your frame.

"Hansol," the greeting is quiet and timid.

"You know you don't have to feel bad for choosing Mingyu instead of me. That guy was right for you all along." He sips his hot beverage. "We were never going to work, not when your feelings for Mingyu were, and still are, stronger."

You chew at your bottom lip nervously and stare. "But... I..." your voice dies off in the middle of the sentence, struggling with the right words to speak.

"There's nothing to worry about," Hansol shakes his head with a smile, laughing slightly. "You two belong together, and it was always obvious from day one."

"But we..."

"I'm not saying that I'm giving you up," he grins. "If he ever breaks your heart, you can come running back to me." Hansol winks and raises a suggestive brow.

You roll your eyes, a smile on your lips. "Thanks. Glad I can count on you as a back-up plan."

"If he ever hurts you or anything, he has me and the boys to worry about," he shoots a grin once more.

"Yeah, sure," You laugh and shake your head. "Thanks Hansol," the smile and your gaze soften. "For understanding and everything else."

"Well," he pauses and sighs softly. "We had a great time together, didn't we?" He grins once more, and you laugh along with him.

"One helluva' good ride," you agree.

"Hey, what can I say, I'm the best," he winks and waggles his brows.

You giggle, amused. "Shut up, you big dork."

Hansol laughs. "And I'm guessing now that you've finally pulled the bandage off and are officially dating the idiot, I'm free to get back to actually doing what I want?"

You nod with a laugh. "Yeah. Yes, totally. Go on a rampage. I won't judge. Besides, there's a lot of fish in the sea."

Hansol lets out a laugh, breathless and leaning back in his chair. "That is the damn truth."

"Woah," an all too familiar voice calls your attention, and your head snaps up to see Mingyu approaching the two of you. A huff and breath later, he plops down onto the free chair. "If it isn't two of the greatest pains in my ass."

Hansol smirks. "Hey Mingyu," he greets with a laugh.

Mingyu pulls you onto his lap, his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck and sighing contentedly. You roll your eyes, lips pulled into a smile. Hansol raises a brow in question, lifting the coffee mug to his lips and hiding an amused grin.

"Yo, I’m still here," Hansol laughs.

"Go away," the response leaves Mingyu's lips as he pouts, nipping at the exposed skin along the column of your throat.

Hansol laughs once again and smiles. "Nah, this is a free public area," he grins teasingly, pointing towards the rest of the establishment.

"Who the hell cares," Mingyu mumbles against your skin.

"Stop it," you giggle, poking at his bicep.

"Shuddup, you guys are gross," Minghao drops down into a  seat at the table, glaring at the two of you and sipping on his iced drink.

Mingyu sits upright and holds you firmly, arm secure around your middle.

"Knew he'd catch up and join," Hansol hums, sitting up and kicking his feet. He adjusts in his chair and gestures toward the empty fourth one.

"It's been awhile since we've hung out," Soonyoung mutters as he takes a seat.

"Ah, we can't exactly hang with them much anymore since they're attached at the damn hip,," Hansol snorts, casting a sideways glance.

"What’s wrong with me being with my boyfriend?” you purse your lips and make an attempt to keep the amused grin off your face.

Mingyu pulls you against his chest even tighter and chuckles as Minghao gives him a look, with Soonyoung snorting next to him.

"Disgusting," Minghao rolls his eyes.

"Glad you both sorted your shit out, though," Soonyoung says.

"You're not even a little disgusted by them being this clingy?" Hansol gestures dramatically toward Mingyu, who's pulling you deeper into his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, face buried, breathing in and enjoying his scent.

"Meh," Minghao shrugs noncommittally as he waves a dismissive hand. "Been around them way too fucking often," his expression shows minor discomfort and revulsion as Mingyu runs his nose and mouth across your neck.

“Okay lovebirds, go home and do all that shit in the comfort and privacy of the apartment," Hansol barks, amused.

"Wait until they have the wedding and honeymoon," Soonyoung bites down on a shit-eating smirk.

"Cute," Hansol coos sarcastically, kicking lightly at Mingyu's shin as the older man stops his movement for a split second, giving him a look, before returning to his activity of cuddling and loving and embracing.

"Love you," the sound is muffled.

"Love you too," you answer.

And you really do mean it. Every word of it.

[chigsprincess]

helloaaa how r u?? I want to request headcannons of bllk boys, mainly shidou but u can add whoever else, in a relationship with someone with LONG HAIR. like tailbone length… I’ve seen some of ur work and I’ve been fascinated..

thank u and have a wonderful day! c:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

a/n: hii! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you have an awesome day as well! to be fair my hair was always on the shorter side but i asked around in my friend group, so hopefully i still managed to make it relatable for the long haired baddies out there!

how they’d act with a s/o who has extra long hair -r.shidou, h.chigiri, s.itoshi, y.isagi

Shidou Ryusei

He is having a field day with it. Literally never gets bored of using it as a beard.

Ties bows in it on a daily basis and just accepts the beating that comes as a consequence.

Has mad respect for you. It’s a nightmare to maintain, and he makes it worse.

Always begs for matching pink highlights, you should just give in at this point.

Beats up creepy strangers who try to touch it without permission on the streets.

Tries to braid both of your hair together in one of those ‘best friends’ hairstyles.

Definitely says shit like: “I want to die tangled in that thing.” all the time.

Chigiri Hyoma

You two have dedicated hair care days, where you help each other put hair masks on and blow dry the other’s hair for them.

You are partly the reason he is growing his own hair out. Definitely wants to catch up to you.

Every day is a scavenger hunt for hair ties in your home.

You two always wear matching hairstyles when you go out on a date.

He hides under it when he is cuddling you from behind.

Secretly uses your expensive conditioner sometimes.

Itoshi Sae

Had no idea it would be this annoying to live with you.

Finds hair in every meal he has, even if he wasn’t in your immediate vicinity when he started eating.

“Day 289 of unclogging the drains I’m starting to lose hope.”

Complains about it all the time, but he finds it extremely beautiful. When you mention cutting it, so it won’t bother him anymore, he instantly says no.

You leave him cute hearts on the shower wall made from the hairs that stuck on it. He is absolutely done with you.

Gets you one of those pet hair removal rolls for every major occasion, along with your actual presents.

Smirks every time you get caught up on the doorknob or in a zipper.

Isagi Yoichi

Thinks you look like a goddess. (and the girl from the ring sometimes.) It looks so pretty and majestic, he adores it so much.

Takes the time to learn about how to properly care for long hair and helps you out on days you are stressed.

Likes it best if you let it hang loose and don’t tie it up, even if the wind blows it into his mouth every 30 seconds.

Likes burying his face in it after a long day of practice. It’s so soft and smells so nice.

Loves public appearances where he can take you with him. Enjoys how mesmerized the people are when they see your hair for the first time.

Calls you his Disney princess all the time.

word count: 487

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 bedtime Headcanons

Pjs and more 😛

Scout:

Boxers

T shirt ot tank top optional

Sprawls like a child after field day

Slight nest going on in his bedroom

Think messy bed with a bunch of shit on it that he moves off at night so he can burrow

Experiences sleep paralysis once and was horrified to see his demon looks like Medic

(Scout is overthinking why he dreams about men)

Soldier:

Cock out and ready to rock

Rips off his clothes and and puts them right back on in the morning

Prefers top sheet to blanket

Snores like a chain saw if he’s on his back

He has prophetic dreams but seldom heeds their warnings

Pyro:

Keeps the mask on

Either a onsie on over the suit OR a very hasty suit to onsie change

Self care routine before bed >^.^<

Sleeps at the foot of a self-made shrine of the other mercs. She made little dollies of them with spit and gum as adhesive

Engineer

Boxers and a t shirt

Pretty chill guy rubbing his sleepy eyes 🥰

He wears the glove up until he gets in bed

Sets it on the nightstand like a pair of glasses

You will NEVER see him walking around in his comfy clothes. Engi is very self conscious outside of his uniform and he gets nervy when exposed

Curls up in a little ball

Honk shmhshsmshs honk shsmsmshsmsms

Demo

A variety!

Naked, boxers, basket ball shorts and shirt combo, the man is full of surprises

Can pass out anywhere

There have been a few mornings where he wakes up with a horrible hangover and is lost in the New Mexican desert

If he isn’t trudging back to base at 7 am he’s having fitful sleep until his alarm goes off

Unless he is drunk Demo is a very light sleeper!! He uses alcohol as a sleeping aid

Wakes up to thunder piss around 1 am

Heavy

He sleeps ready to run. An adolescence consumed by war shapes a man, and Heavy will never sleep without knowing his shoes are next to the bed

Sleep shorts or jammie pants and a shirt

He dislikes the sensation of a sheet against his back and so almost exclusively sleeps with a shirt on

Only exception is after sex because he likes skin to skin afterwards 😃😄 emotional connections!

A light and deep sleeper. Bro will be in the most restful slumber but if you walk past his room his eyes flash open and his body tenses hard af

Restless leg syndrome

Can sleep sitting up (it lowkey scares literally everyone because why does he do that???)

Genuinely wakes up refreshed

Medic

Fleece pajamas and he does button them

Or boxers and a t shirt/tank top but he PREFERS his fancy fashions

Keeps fuzzy slippers next to the bed but will never wear them out of the medbay

He made tiny accessories for his doves, including a cute little night cap!!

He has a bedtime routine for his doves and does it nightly. He feeds them, coos them, holds every single one and gives a little smooch, and then bedtime

Will fucking kill you if you wake him up without good reason

Scout comes into the medbay with a serious wound? He’s like a dad when their kids is in the door way “i frew up”

Soldier and Demo drunkenly stumble in and are fucking around? Medic chews their ass nasty style

Straight up disrespectful if his sleep is messed

Spy

Satin pajamas

At least a shirt. He prefers to he covered

Spy dressed modestly and it needs more discussion. I also think he is secretly shy AND I WILL ELABORATE LATER

It’s giving sorrowful sleeper

He goes over every life mistake each night before bed. Really tears himself up before he falls alseep

The night is when he thinks about Scout’s ma the most. And the fact he abandoned a child but he represses that a bit more

He was very afraid of the dark as a kid and still always sleeps with a layer on for protection

can’t sleep without a fan going for noise

He can stay awake for a long time. Like, a really long time. But unlike Medic or Engineer or even Sniper, Spy is NOT productive when staying up

Stares at a wall with a befallen look when he changes into his pjs

Holds a pillow

Sniper

Sleeps with a white beater and boxers

Or completely naked

Or in his work clothes if he’s tired enough

Sniper sleeps like a new mom. Anytime he can, he will, and he is deeply paranoid

Look man, weird shit happens in the outback. There’s a reason aboriginal peoples are warded as fuck against evil in the bush. Sniper is constantly on the look out, even at night

Brother fears the sandwalkers fr

He sleeps much better with someone else nearby. They don’t have to be in bed with him but the presence feels safer. Less vulnerable to predators

A notoriously light sleeper. Wakes up constantly and is always a bit exhausted

Has dreams that are warning him of days to come and unlike Soldier he takes that shit SERIOUSLY

[batboyblog]

the answer to why for example the Democratic Governor my small state went to the mat against Trump and the federal government over trans rights

and won, while left/center-left parties in the UK have reacted to the Court ruling with a "oh well, guess transphobia won, anyways...."

is what the Democratic Party is vs what say Labour is. People often slag off the Dems as being "right wing by European standards" which we can debate how real that is in 2025 with Europes left wing parties having moved very much to the center.

But parties like Labour are a direct outgrowth of labor unions, literally, to this day the Unions play a major role in the party. Well male dominated unions were ALWAYS intensely socially conservative and super resistant to women in the work place. To the men of the labor movement before the First World War (and even before the second one) being able to earn enough that their wives didn't have to work and could stay home in an emulation of middle class respectability was SUPER important to them.

to be clear that was true in America and Europe, not some UK exclusive sexism.

There's a reason Labour has never had a woman leader and the Tories have had 4.

in the US, the Democratic Party is not an outgrowth of the Labor movement, indeed the Dems embrace of organized labor is an outgrowth of its embrace of immigrants, Irish, German, later Jewish, Italian, Polish, and other Eastern Europeans who worked in factories and shit, the Democrats slowly shifted to supporting them, and then under FDR fully swung behind them. Though organized labor never had the special place it has in the Labour Party.

The Democratic Party since the 20th century has been the engine of social movements in the US, from the suffragettes, it was Wilson (generally a bad guy) who passed the right for women to vote effectively stealing an issue that had been Republican (the first woman elected to Congress, Jeannette Rankin, was a Republican) From FDR's feelers out to black voters, to Truman integrating the military, to JFK and LBJ black civil rights, in the 1960s, anti-war, women's lib, gay lib, the environment, etc all these leftwing movements stayed in the big tent of the Democratic Party

so now, in the core of the DNA of the Democratic Party is saying "Black Lives Matter" saying "a woman's right to choose!" saying "trans rights are human rights" (indeed "Women's Rights are Human Rights and Human Rights are Women's Rights!" is a Hillary Clinton quote) in a way thats not the case for the Labour Party in the UK.

in the UK the middle class feminists of the suffragette movement found no truly comfortable home and as I mentioned have found it easier to rise inside the Tory party then in Labour. It's not shocking that the Lib Dems a party with an older tradition (though the Dem Part is an outgrowth of Labour) is the most warm. And the Greens are just middle class Labour supporters who are mad at Labour for not being radical any more.

I don't have any happy words for Brits here, just to say the Democratic Party is a social, not an economic movement.

The fucking audacity of the judge to say that ruling the definition of woman is based purely on biological sex “is not a triumph of one side over another.”

As if this hasn’t just fucking decimated trans rights in the UK, made transphobia practically law and blatantly supporting the work of groups like the LGB Alliance.

How fucking dare they.

[xespa]

AFTERGLOW ✶ HUH YUNJIN 🍒

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝖥𝖤𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 huh yunjin x f!reader ⋅ 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳 1,967 words ⋅ 𝖦𝖤𝖭𝖱𝖤/𝖳𝖠𝖦𝖲 sub!reader, roommates au, soft dom!yunjin, fluff, explicit smut

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 ⟳ alcohol consumption, both reader and yunjin are bisexual, small mention of “slut-shaming” (not from yunjin tho), yunjin is WHIPPED, overstim, fingering, oral (f. rec), multiple orgasms, spanking

“It’s like…everyone’s so fucking boring nowadays.” Yunjin rambles on as she takes another sip of her wine. “I just can’t find the right one that matches my vibe.”

You nod, “I feel. Literally everyone I talk to is lame as hell, they always rather stay in and watch movies than go on an actual date, which is fine sometimes…but all the time? Hard pass.”

It’s 2 am on a saturday night and neither of you had anything to do, you proposed going out clubbing but Yunjin wasn’t in the mood for that kind of night. She was more of a laid-back, chill type of girl while you were always out late partying and coming home with someone new every weekend. It’s not like Yunjin didn’t have guys (or girls) over either, she was just more discreet about it and made sure you were gone whenever she brought anyone over. She felt like she wouldn’t be able to face you again if you ever heard what she was doing.

“That’s ‘cause they’re just trying to fuck, oldest trick in the book y/n.” Yunjin chuckles as you lightly smack her arm. “What— it’s the truth! Anyone with eyes would wanna get in your pants.”

Well, maybe that explains why you’re always getting texts at 2-3 am asking to “come chill” even though you know how it’s going to end and you fall for it every. single. time. Maybe that’s why your last hookup called you “for the team” to all his friends, you fucked on the first “date” but only because he showed you cute pics of animals he rescued (curse you for being such a softie). But generally, it didn’t take much for you to want to sleep with someone because you had sexual needs just like everyone else, except you were a girl and that wasn’t very “ladylike” of you. That didn’t stop you from actively seeking potential sex partners though.

“Ugh, don’t say that! I’m just more of a lowkey person.. I don’t mind netflix dates but damn, ya girl could really use some wining and dining once in a while.” You express frustratedly. It’s been a while since you’ve been taken somewhere nice and the thought of someone planning a cute outing together made you yearn for a relationship even more.

Yunjin’s brows lift in confusion, “do I not already do that for you every day?”

She’s constantly cooking for you, soon as you wake up breakfast is made with your favorite—pancakes and fluffy scrambled eggs! She’d also cook you dinner once you got home from an exhausting day of work, she was the perfect roommate you could’ve ever stumbled upon.

“You do— but that’s different..” Your voice trails off, thinking of any excuse as to why but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

“How? Am I only your maid that cooks and cleans for you? Not worthy of anything else?” She pouts dramatically, of course she’d get offended by something so little.

“Yunnie don’t do this right now, you know I appreciate you and your sweet gestures all the time.” Sighing as you sink further into the couch, you decide to spill more about your not so eventful sex life.

“It seems like most guys only care about getting their nut then dipping, I barely finish if it at all after..” You realize how embarrassing that sounds to admit but you had to confess this to someone, you don’t even know why you continue to torment yourself with this kind of treatment.

Yunjin shakes her head in disbelief, appalled at the sad truth of your current dilemma. She too however, faced a similar issue at hand. She can’t seem to find anyone that’ll keep up with her crazy high sex drive. “That sounds truly awful, what the fuck? I’d have you on orgasm number five just from my fingers alone.”

Holy shit, did she really just say that? The wine is most definitely getting to her now. The room got real quiet for a second.

“Y-you would?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes at her.

She wanted to retract her statements out of embarrassment but you didn’t look put off by her advances at all, instead intrigued. Her cheeks turned rosier, very unexpected of you to put her on the spot like that but she was the one who opened pandora’s box to begin with. “I mean… yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” She replied, biting her lip as she gauges your reaction to see if what she said was okay. “I’m more of a giver than receiver anyway, I love giving head it’s my specialty. I’d leave you with that afterglow if you let me babe.”

Well now you were going to have to find out, you can’t just let her make such bold claims like that without having the proof to back it up first. You’ve always found your roommate extremely hot but you never tried anything out of respect for her boundaries, she did the same but her urges to make a move on you kept growing as you complained more and more about your past experiences— she wanted to show you how it was really done.

+

Yunjin was determined in making sure you have a great time. Your pretty body splayed under her with your backside facing upward, giving her the view of a lifetime. “Fuck…” she curses under her breath, her digits sinking into your dripping core, greedily taking all of her in. You muffle the sounds of your moans by covering your mouth, you had a habit of doing so since you didn’t want to wake Yunjin whenever she was sleeping while you were getting it on.

“C’mon you don’t gotta be shy babe, be as loud as you want with me.” She husks, giving a spank to your left cheek leaving a visibly red handprint. Hands sliding up the curves of your body, caressing you as she pumps her fingers deeper. “Mmh.. fuck— Yunnie keep going.” whimpering out pathetically as your walls clench around her. She adds another digit to the mix, watching them disappear in your cunt while looking at your perfectly round, plump ass. Never in a million years would she think she’d be doing this to her roommate of all people.

You felt a knot tying in your stomach from the pleasure, grabbing onto the leather couch tightly—feeling yourself getting close already. “Sound so pretty when you moan, don’t stop.” She encourages sweetly, “I’m making you feel good, aren’t I?” Sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

“Y-yes, think I’m gonna cu— oh fuck!” Eyes roll to the back of your head as feel yourself come undone on Yunjin’s fingers, creaming all over them as she continues fingering you, thumb swiping harshly over your clit to help ride out your high. The overstimulation was too much to handle for you, bratty whines escaping your lips as you just couldn’t take anymore.

“On your back now.” She orders, producing another spank to your rear, you squeal from the contact but get up and lye on your back as she told you to do. “Open.” Yunjin groans impatiently for you, slipping in her fingers coated with your milky essence. You suck them off one by one, getting a taste of yourself while looking directly in her eyes. God…you were going to be the death of her.

“Mmm.. so fuckin’ hot babe.” She smirks, planting a soft kiss to your lips to get a taste on your tongue. She needed to have more of you. Kissing down your chin, neck, collarbone, chest, all the day down to your navel—faint blotches of red appear on the bruised skin; creating a beautiful masterpiece on your body. More kisses are pressed into your soaked inner thighs, trailing her lips up to your entrance as she licks her lips before she begins feasting.

“Don’t hold back on me baby, be as rough as you want.” She coos, lowering her head to flatten her tongue, licking a long, slow stripe against your throbbing slit.

“Shit!” You almost cry from how good she feels against you already, bucking your hips into her mouth as she sucks on your puffy bundle of nerves. Eyes looking up at you fiercely while she watches you shake and writhe under her. “So good, so goood. Just like that, don’t stop please!” You continued grinding your core on her face, making a leaky mess all over her. She could care less though, she’ll happily drown in your juices any day.

Her fingers return back inside for extra stimulation but you end up crying out more, the feeling has your head spinning intensely. You don’t know how much more you can possibly take but you firmly pull on her hair for leverage, tightly tugging it not caring if it hurts since she said not to hold back. Her free hand caresses your thigh gently, flicking her tongue rapidly on your clit and lapping up your wetness, you taste like a dream.

“Oh my god…” you mewl slightly above a whisper, you suddenly forgot how to use your voice. Her mouth was making you feel more than amazing, better than anything you’ve felt before. You feel bad for all the guys and girls you fucked in the past because they definitely won’t be getting a call back from you now.

“Taste so sweet baby,” she mutters before shortly going back to what she was doing, “mmmm…” she hums against you and the vibrations leave you shuddering. Another orgasm erupts out of you as you scream her name louder, spasming and shaking under her touch. This time your release squirts out onto her tongue, licking up every drop, even the left over excess on your thighs.

She presses a kiss to your abused clit, lightly dragging a finger over it to rub in circles, making it swell up again. “P-please Yunnie, no more… n-no more.” You whine again and again but she just pretends not to hear you. She’s not going to stop until she’s completely satisfied with the end result. The end result being you looking a total fucked-out mess.

“Shut up. Stop talking.” Her eyes darkened, giving you a menacing glare. You don’t utter another word, you wouldn’t dare test her right now.

She slings your leg over her shoulder and pushes you in closer, teasing your sensitive entrance while curling her fingers inside, she could do this all day if you’d let her. Your breath shortens, digging your nails deeper into her skin from the bliss you feel— you were overly sensitive and felt another one nearing your way. She wasn’t even using her tongue on you anymore, she was just so good with her fingers alone it was enough to have you squirting all over her.

And you did just that, again. “That’s right baby, cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” She praises, feeling the tightness of you wrap around her. Your body was so numb. Panting, moaning, vision getting blurry as you coat her fingers with your cream for the third time in a row. She pulls them out slowly, letting you drip all over the couch, chuckling with endearment of you. It almost didn’t feel real with the way she was making you cum so easily for her. She had a natural talent at this it seems. You felt weightless, as light as air in her touch, a radiant beam of ecstasy lingers within you.

“That was…incredible.” You gush, ruffling her already disheveled hair, “I haven’t felt like this in a really long time.”

Yunjin kept smirking; boy you were in for so much more tonight. “Mm.. just relax pretty, ’m not even close to being done with you yet. Gonna have everyone know who’s my name once we’re finished.”

[iinarizaki]

pro freak

things just don't go so well on a call for poor Aizawa...and he needs you 🫵 tags: 18+, 4.0k, aizawa x f!reader (sorta, I don't think I used any pronouns or gendered petnames with this one), guys it's sex pollen there's like unprotected marathon sex, cunnilingus, cum, sweat, masturbation (m!), dry humping, things are happening.

“Ha! Even the great Eraserhead can’t beat me. So sad how the heroes are falling since All Might’s retirement!” The lanky twenty-something currently attempting to do circles around him taunts him with that annoying, grating voice of his. 

Attempting is the key word here. While still being surprisingly fast, Aizawa has still managed to stun him twice but there was some stupid counter to his quirk that is proving full capture a little challenging. And the– admittedly foolish as he knows much better– added distraction of being almost late to a dinner date with you is tugging his full attention from the urban jungle that he chases this young idiot through, swinging from buildings and lamp posts like that one fictional American superhero All Might compared him to one day not too long ago… Spider-boy or something. 

It’s just the thought of disappointing you, of missing the expensive reservation that he somewhat reluctantly booked six months in advance at some hyper popular restaurant you wistfully mentioned wanting to go to after seeing an instagram reel…

Just to see you happy. 

Knowing it’s work related and you would forgive him easily is a weak comfort but he would rather not have to ask for forgiveness in the first place. Having you in his life is something he never realized he needed until one day you just seemed to show up and he quickly realized that it would kill part of him if you weren’t around. 

He just needs to hurry and wrap this guy up, then alert the police or Best Jeanist or whoever else is close enough to pick him up. It’s not like he really cares if he gets all the glory…

Especially on a minor incident like this. The guy was stealing from an improperly unsecured bank truck and knocked out the guards. It’s basically kid shit. 

As he tries to quickly consider his options and form a plan, an opening appears when his opponent turns his head to taunt him further, only to clip the side of a building, falling to the ground with a heavy thud, his plastic helmet cracking on the sidewalk. He dives forward with his scarf, activating his quirk and using his scarf to carry him closer to further incapacitate him when he passes the opening of a street and out of his peripheral he sees something coming towards him at speed.

Before he can react, a cloud of something pink is thrown at him. He flinches when it slips through the slats in his visor, the powder burning his already sensitive eyes harshly. Thinking quickly despite the burning sensation that now spreads down his neck, rolling over his shoulders and making him shudder. 

Taking a literal blind chance, he flicks one end of his scarf out to suspend himself from a street light. Unable to stop his momentum, he swings wildly, bumping his leg painfully as he wraps his other scarf around the second perpetrator.

His shoulder protests holding his weight, Aizawa forcing himself to bite back a grunt and the growing hot feeling beginning to thrum through his veins. He carefully drops himself to the ground before launching the now freed second end of his scarf to wrap the first of the hooligans that still lays unconscious. 

“What is this?” He asks sharply to the grumbling form on the ground, trying to open his eyes but every time he tries it just burns so badly that his eyelids can only flutter. 

“My quirk. You got hit with a full dose of my love dust!” 

Aizawa grimaces, and not just at the corniness of the bullshit these young villains have been spouting recently. 

“And what does it do?” He asks sharply as he uses his chin to bump the comms button on his watch. “Eraserhead here. Need assistance.”

“Already have your location. Best Jeanist is in the area and on his way. Hang tight.” Dispatch crackles back via his earpiece. 

“It’s in the name, wise-ass.” His aggressor snaps back with a clear grin that Aizawa can hear in his voice while the dispatcher spoke. Honestly he couldn’t be more happy that he can’t see the full expression on their face, though the burn is starting to subside, leaving more of that weird pleasurable tingle in its wake that seems to be intensifying. 

“We’ll just have to ask you two more questions at the station.” He sighs, forcing himself to breathe normally when that pleasurable tingle spreads past his shoulders in earnest, snaking down towards his groin. 

“If you make it that long.” The dust villain mutters before they start to laugh, earning a renewed glare of disgust from Aizawa. 

Before he can inquire further into whatever the hell that means, the sound of confident steps approaches from behind as Best Jeanist interrupts them. 

“Good evening, Eraserhead. Seems like you’ve gotten into a bit of a situation.” Best Jeanist’s proper tone clips along, never overly friendly, but that’s something he’s always appreciated about him. All professionalism and getting the job done so they can just go home. 

“Yeah, uh, hey, Jeanist. There’s just this one and the kid on the corner.” 

“Understood. I have backup on the way.” Best Jeanist just nods, strings whipping out to secure the two of them so Aizawa can undo his scarf.

“Ugh but c’mon, you need to let me go, I have class tomorrow! We didn’t even do anything!” The whining would-be villain at his feet huffs. 

“Should have thought about that before throwing weird dirt at me.”

“It’s not dirt.” 

Well that can be said for sure. The the initial burn was closer to lightning, sparking through him harshly, but now burn is slowly licking its way down his spine, over his abdominals, almost too uncomfortable at first before it subsides into a pleasant buzz, his thoughts drifting to you now– in compromising positions, whimpers and breathy moans replaying in total replay. 

Everything in him begs to go see you, very nearly overwhelming him as he attempts to stay professional and alert…except he brings his hands up to his eyes and makes the mistake of rubbing at them to see if he can open them yet. 

The heat that explodes immediately catches him off guard by how potent it is. He staggers forward, the sensation almost bringing him to his knees. 

“Are you alright, Eraserhead?” Best Jeanist asks curiously. “Do I need to call for a medic?” 

“No, it’s fine. I will go see Recovery Girl myself.” He says quickly, not really wanting anyone else to know about whatever this ‘love dust’ is. 

Getting attacked in battle was easier than now having to sit in Recovery Girl’s station, his scarf unraveled from his neck and strategically placed in his lap while she finishes running her tests. 

It’s not like he can just knock out their well-meaning nurse, nor does he want to but the embarrassment is terrible and invasive, and being rock hard while she shakes her head at him and chastises him is even fucking worse. His skin feels like it’s on fire, desire to be with you heavy in his gut and balls even heavier. 

Fortunately between texts to you to let you know that ‘yes, I’m safe’ but ‘sorry I won’t be home in time to go to dinner. Go ahead and take a friend. We’ll go another time.’ and keeping his hands and mind busy with an end of his scarf keeps his thoughts from wandering too badly. Folding an edge, then smoothing it out, folding it back down, rinse and repeat.

“You need to be more careful.” Recovery Girl scolds him. “But you’ll be fine. It’s just a case of um, well, increased libido for at least the next several hours. Nothing I can do about it unfortunately.” 

A fresh fat bead of sweat rolls down his neck uncomfortably and Aizawa fixes her with a tired, blank stare, only to be taken aback completely by her next question: 

“Have you ever heard of sex pollen?” 

“Excuse me?” He half asks, half says way too quickly. He was young and curious once and some of the stupid things he’s confiscated from the students over the years from drawings to handwritten fanfiction have been wildly inappropriate in nature…But he’s not going to talk to Recovery Girl about sex pollen. 

He must maintain some shred of distance and self respect today. 

A beat goes by as Recovery Girl debates explaining it to him before she just waves him off. “Eh, forget about it. It’ll probably go away by tomorrow. Maybe if you found a partner it would go away quicker?”

Clearly a reference to you, but he does feel a little…weird about seeking you out when he finally gets home just to work out the lingering effects of a villain’s quirk. Even if the craving he has for you right now physically hurts him. 

“I’ll just head home and wait it out. Thanks.” With that, he quickly stands, still trying to keep the mess of his scarf in front of him to conceal the biggest issue with him wanting to stay lowkey about all of this. 

“Good luck.” Recovery Girl offers as she finishes her report, what he’s fairly certain is a grandmotherly giggle managing to sneak through the crack of the door as it shuts behind him. 

By the time Aizawa gets to the apartment he shares with you and starts to unlock the door, he’s feverish. His thoughts are cloudy, he’s hot and sweaty all over, and worst of all, his cock has throbbed painfully nonstop at not being paid any attention to in the last couple hours since his initial exposure. 

Separate warring feelings of relief and disappointment flood through him when he steps through the door and it’s dark, only the hum of the appliances in the air to suggest that the power is on, and the place you usually occupy on the couch by this time of the evening is empty and cold. Maybe, hopefully, you did take his suggestion and took a friend to your reservations. 

But God, his heart and cock aches for you. 

At any rate, he quickly undresses and throws his still contaminated clothes in the washer before he finds himself attempting to remedy the issue himself in the shower, the leading thought of removing any remnants of dust that hasn’t soaked into his skin yet quickly forgotten when he accidentally grabs your body wash instead of his own. 

Cool water running over his defined back and surrounded by the scent that has become so you, he finally begins to palm at his cock, red and swollen and begging for attention. His head falls forward to rest on the shower wall, long dark hair curtaining his face as a pant escapes his lips. 

It feels good, a slight relief to take some of that gnawing edge off, but his hand is not your hand, and pulling from his expansive memories of experiences with you is not helping the same way it usually does. He strokes himself, squeezes, tries all the tricks he’s come to enjoy over the years with growing desperation to cum, but every time he’s so very close it fizzles out. 

The water runs freezing by the time Aizawa gets out and dries off, pulling his wet hair back in a loose bun, yet the heat that burns under his skin still rages, and he’s more frustrated than he has ever been in his entire life. 

He curses under his breath as he strides to the bedroom. Heading straight for his wardrobe, he grabs a pair of boxers to wear, the thought of putting on any more clothes than that right now makes him feel as if he very well could die. And the only person who can help him is…

Well, Aizawa needs to check his phone to see if you’ve texted him back since he was in the shower. It’s been nearly an hour judging by the time on the clock by your side of the bed. He pads back out to the living room, a small groan rumbling in his throat as sweat starts to roll down his back and chest again. 

As he picks up his phone from the kitchen counter, the front door opens and it takes all he can possibly muster not to immediately sweep you off your feet. 

“I’m home!” You call. “Shota?” 

“In the kitchen.” He calls back, attempting to clear his throat when his voice comes out a little husky. 

“How are you feeling? I stopped to get some things for you and I sweet talked them into letting me bring you home some takeout from that restaurant.” You flounce in with a sparkle in your eye, setting plastic bags down before moving in to hug him. Something he immediately dissuades by holding a hand up that stops you in your tracks, a confused frown pinching your brow as you wait for him to explain. 

“Don’t come too close right now. Sorry.” It’s a dagger to his heart to have to refuse you right now. Aizawa bites his lip, looking away from you, one of his hands coming up to rest on the back of his neck, “Thank you for dinner.”

“What's wrong?” He looks back towards you, watching as your concerned gaze roams him, searching for any obvious signs that he is hurt but coming up with none aside from a bruise forming on his calf from his slight collision with the light pole during the chase. 

“I was attacked by a villain with a, uh, quirk that makes you very horny for a while.” 

“Oh.” The frown turns into a look of surprise, before you start giggling, the sound even sweeter than usual and so fucking dangerous but the final nail in his terrible coffin is when you pair it with a gesture to the treacherous bulge in his boxers. “I was wondering why you were so happy to see me.” 

His face feels even hotter, and he pitches forward to rest his elbows on the counter, planting his head in his hands with a long groan. 

“Don’t bully me.” He grumbles, muffled behind his hands. “It is so hard not to drag you off to bed right now.” 

What answers him is another giggle that is both his salvation and his destruction. 

“Awww, poor thing, how can I help you?” Your voice gets closer, all but purring in his ear, and he wants so badly to bury his face between your legs, sink into your pretty cunt over and over again, hear you cry out in pleasure until you’re hoarse, leave you covered in love bites and cum and— 

He starts to deny you but the second your lips plant a soft blissful kiss against his shoulder, one of your hands starting to rub over his tense back, letting your nails drag down lightly, his brain short circuits. He moans into his hands, dropping them down to turn and seek you and your pretty lips instead. 

You meet him halfway, soft lips brushing against his and another needy noise rumbles in his throat as one of your hands rubs over his chest through his dark, neatly trimmed chest hair. A scrape of your nail over his nipple and he pushes you up against the counter, hips rolling against your half perched thigh. 

Stars sparkle behind his eyelids with the friction against his cock, the relief almost palpable. He breaks from the kiss to mouth at your neck, hot breath fanning out over your skin as you hum so sweetly.

“Thank you.” He breathes, fucking himself against your thigh desperately, “Fuck, thank you.”  

“Come, Shota. You’re doing so good.” You purr, stroking fingers along his scruffy jaw and down to drag your nails over his shoulder lightly again.

Quickly and with the force of a train, finally his first orgasm drowns him, vision whiting out as he clutches on to you tightly, tensing as he fills his boxers with ropes of warm cum. 

Aizawa shudders while the last sparks of pleasure roll through him, rough pants and soft hums tucked into the crook of your neck. But he only gets to enjoy how satisfied he feels for a moment before that awful hot thirst grabs him by the throat again. 

“How do you feel now?” You ask, continuing to rub your hand up and down one side of his back soothingly.

“Hah, we’re not done yet.” He rasps against your neck, easily hooking his arms around you and picking you up to sweep you away. You laugh in his arms as he quickly strides down the hallway and into your bedroom, his heartbeat thumping in his ears.

You’re so satisfying in his arms, substantial and gorgeous and everything he could ever hope to get lost in as he drops you down onto the soft covers of the bed. Immediately you start shedding your clothing, everything thrown off in a rush to the four corners of the room. 

A few sticky rogue webs of cum take their sweet time to break as Aizawa steps out of his boxers. His cock lurches upwards, tapping against his stomach before he’s kneeling on the bed and draping himself over you with a blistering hunger and need you have only rarely seen before. 

He kisses you again, all teeth and tongue and whimpering desire, his breath catching when you return his kisses with the same desperation. As much as he needs to fuck you with abandon, he forces himself to slow down, beginning to kiss down your body until he’s half off the bed, supporting most of his weight on one outstretched foot before he spreads your thighs a little wider to reach your soft glistening cunt. 

“You’re so pretty.” He compliments before he spreads your folds with his nose, bumping your clit as he licks broadly with his tongue. He moans against you, not usually minding your taste, but today you just taste incredible. Like the finest fresh strawberry in the world. 

“Oh, god.” You whine under the overwhelming onslaught of his mouth. He smiles when you cant your hips into his mouth, feeling a fresh gush of wetness on his tongue. He introduces two fingers, so gently stroking over your folds before they delve into you with abandon. 

Ever aware, Aizawa knows all your spots. All the little tricks to have you coming completely undone before he’s even been inside of you yet, anything he can do to hear you crying out his name and leave you struggling to walk on boneless legs, he’ll do. 

And he takes advantage of that now, latching onto your clit and crooking his fingers to brush against that rough spot that always makes you see stars, fucking into you with punishing speed and accuracy as your hips jerk and you desperately try to muffle yourself even just a little bit, but he doesn’t care about the neighbors hearing tonight. 

His thoughts are filled with only you and fucking this quirk bullshit out of his system. His hips grind against the edge of the bed with every sweet moan of his name, his cock twitching when you tumble over the edge, cunt clenching tightly around his fingers. Your hands tangle into his hair tightly, loose pieces falling over his drenched face. 

Pulling his fingers from you, he sucks them clean, wiping the spit and remainders of your juices off on the covers before he pushes back up onto the bed, tendrils of still damp black hair brushing against your collarbone. 

“So, how was dinner?” He asks between heavy breaths as he reaches down and grabs his cock, angling it down to slip into you easily and to the hilt with one stroke. 

You keen at the fullness, still sensitive from your orgasm just a few moments ago, the most gorgeous sight to him when your head tilts back into the blankets and exposes your neck for him to mark up, let everybody know that you are his. 

It’s so juvenile, Aizawa is more than aware, but he saw Hawks flirting with you the other day and it ignited a little something in him, even though he knows you would never betray him like that. 

“Ah, it was sooo good. There was—Ah, Shota,” You start off strong, voice dying off into a whine. “Wish you had been there.” 

Obscene noises fill any silence as he rocks his hips into you, barely pulling out before he’s hitting himself again roughly, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t. I tried to make it.” 

“I know, baby, I know.” You coo, “I’ll tell you more about it after you’re done railing me as long as you tell me how you got hit by— harder, please, oh fuck —this sex quirk.” 

Aizawa snorts though heavy breaths, “Deal.” 

The sight of you underneath him, sweat slicking your skin from the heat radiating off him, smelling so sweet and musky and sexy, he dips his head down and licks over your chest, up to just under your jaw as he snaps his hips into you, salty and sweet and driving him wild. 

Every stroke inside of you feels like the first one, the pleasure leaving his head swimming as he continues the quick pace of snapping his hips into you once more, another orgasm blinding him harshly as he falls forward onto you, barely braced by an arm he throws out to catch himself. He continues to grind into you, curses and whimpers of your name are panted against your collarbone as warm ropes of cum paint your walls.

“Sorry.” He groans, relieved as it seems to be wearing off now, that sense of urgency gripping his body and mind easing off. “I think it’s over.”

“I don’t know, I think this is pretty hot.” You laugh. “Seeing you so wrecked is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Shota.” 

“Glad someone is enjoying this.”

“And you aren’t?” 

“Oh, I am. You taste so fucking good.” He kisses you, slipping a little tongue before he pulls away and licks at a bead of sweat on your chest. “So good.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” You laugh, pushing a stray damp strand of his hair back behind his ear.

“Uh huh.” He rolls his eyes, a sense of dread filling him when that now familiar heat fogs over his mind again, racing down his back towards his groin. “Fuck.” 

“Again?” 

“Uh huh.” He shudders when you purposefully clench around him. He begins to rock into you again, his hip popping and starting to ache. 

“I heard that.” You comment. “Let me get on top. Have a rest.” 

He rolls the two of you so he’s underneath you, carefully enough that his cock barely moves from where it’s buried in your warm cunt. You sit up and Aizawa can’t help but moan when you shift and the erotic sight of the mixture of your fluids slips from your pussy down his shaft, pooling on the dark hair around the base of his cock. 

You start to move your hips and his eyes are fixed on how gorgeous you look like this, his cock disappearing between your thighs, the slick sound of wet skin on skin, the way your chest jiggles, he remains transfixed as you push yourself to keep the rough pace he set a few moments ago. 

“Shota,” You moan, “Touch me. Please.”

His heart hammers in his chest as he meets the rhythm of your hips, pistoning up into you desperately as he brings his fingers up to caress your chest and rub at your clit in short fast circles that leave you keening. 

When you fall apart on him and Aizawa cums again with a hoarse cry, disgusted yet beyond turned on by the slick mess he’s making out of you, he’s so grateful that it’s you by his side. 

The effects of the quirk subside by the morning after a night filled with exhausted love-making, leaving the two of you sore and soaked in cum and hickies and exhausted— and throwing this set of sheets out as soon as possible.

[aphrosheir]

>>> Red Hair, Red Wine, Red Handed Pt. 1 <<<

[A/N: Like, omg. I've been gone for so long. Anyways, enjoy this Melissa fic. I've been cooking up for the last week. I don't know if it makes sense? I hope it does. Melissa and (Y/N) are idiots. Barb is tired of it. Ava wants drama. I hope I did the amazing storytelling of Abbott Elementary justice—everyone say thank you to Quinta! This has like, a lot of Easter eggs. Have fun finding them. I really had a lot of fun writing this.

ITALICS ARE CONFESSIONALS!!!

For the sake of... fitting the word count, this "oneshot" is going to be split into 3 parts.

If y'all enjoy this, I have an idea—completely unrelated to the plot of this one, but set in the same universe—but I'm not too good at keeping those promises. Depends!]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

"So, like I said, Melissa should be the one hosting the party!" Jacob announces to the rest of the faculty with finality and glee.

"Calm down, Hill," she warned, giving the man a side glare. "Just 'cause the rest of youses cooking ain't shit, doesn't mean that I'm gonna turn my house into your personal hotel for Christmas."

"I love Christmas. I do. But you think I’m cleaning up Jacob’s Pinterest Turkey Disaster 2.0? Fuggedaboutit."

"Melissa," Barbara clutched her pearls, a look of betrayal crossing her face as she turned to her work wife. "I'll have you know that I make a darn good prime rib and sweet potato pie for my homeboy, J. Christ!"

Janine stares at her work mother with concern, wondering how much pop culture has Ava and (Y/N) been able to slip into her morning coffee today. Her boyfriend, Gregory, on the other hand, just stares at the camera, pointed at them with eyes that pretty much sums up his exasperation.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) is off giggling at the other side of the faculty lounge, enjoying the seed she had planted. She was, after all, a kindergarten teacher. She knew how to have fun.

You see, Christmas was about a week away. (Y/N), ever the one to die without drama, has thought of a most brilliant plan to fuel her desires: A Christmas dinner for the faculty. Chaos at every corner, burnt food, terrible presents, and even worse karaoke. It was perfect.

"What are you giggling at, shortstack?" Melissa's eyes snapped to the girl, her glasses now perched on top of her head and phone on the table. Her enchanting hazel eyes are now on (Y/N).

Well, shit.

(Y/N) loved the Abbott crew. She loved the drama, chaos, and the occasional camera crew that came with them. She loved them like her own family. But she loved one of them a little more than the others.

Oh, how the raging fire draws in the naive moth.

"Me? Well, Melissa, I know that you love me, but what do I have to do with this?"

(Y/N) ignored the burning of her cheeks and sent a wink to the redhead's way, playing down her insanely noticeable crush; flirting shamelessly and fighting like an old married couple—or two immature children, depending on the day.

But the crew was used to it by now, especially Barbara, who raised a perfectly plucked brow, seeing how far the two would take it before finally realising.

"Melissa and (Y/N) are two extremely smart and capable women." Barbara states with the passion and theatrics that the kindergarten teacher usually carries, but her smile drops at the end of the statement. "But God knows that those two are about as oblivious as the walnuts in Ava's oats."

Melissa responded as eagerly as (Y/N) had started, pursing her lips. "Don't play dumb with me, dolcezza. I've shared lunch with you a lot of times. I need someone who isn't gonna burn down the kitchen with water."

"Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti asking for help?" Ava's voice cut through the thick, unyielding tension in the air, clearly looking to stir the pot.

"I am so tired of them dancing around each other. And not to mention that (Y/N) basically treats me as her personal diary! She doesn't even pay me. I cannot take this anymore."

"(Y/N), you are quite literally a little miracle."

"Shut it, Coleman." (Y/N) bites back at Ava, hopping off the table where she was seated, before waltzing towards Melissa. She got up right on the redhead's face with a sickly smile, "But then again, how could I ever resist you, mi amore?"

Pretending to roll her eyes, Melissa returned to her already cold macchiato with a scoff. "I still can't host, though. I don't want to be cleanin' up after y'allses drunk asses."

"Oh, well, I can host! Just as long as Janine helps me with the decorations," (Y/N) volunteers, and she swears she could hear Melissa's thick accent muttering about her being a suck-up or something.

"What?" Melissa exclaims at the camera, her glare piercing through the lenses.

Janine squeals, sending a shock through the spines of the faculty. "Of course, I'll join (Y/N)! It'll be an honour."

"I can plan!" Jacob announces, standing with the two girls.

"Okay, so I already have a Pinterest board ready, a playlist we can listen to, and matching outfits!"

"It's like if the sun and Redbull had a baby and them babies were triplets." Ava chimed in, staring at the three youngest members of the faculty exchanging ideas at a hundred miles per hour.

As the clock ticks its last tocks to the end of their break, Jacob stands in the middle of the room, "So, (Y/N) is hosting. She'll be cooking alongside Melissa, and the rest of us will bring a dish of our own—Gregory did you put this in here?"

"I had to."

"Put what where?"

"Open parenthesis, asterisk, caps, underlined, "EDIBLE", exclamation mark, exclamation mark, exclamation mark, close parenthesis."

The glances exchanged in the room ranged from eye rolls, knowing, mischievous, and downright evil. Later on, Gregory would come to regret his choice of words like a monkey's paw.

"Alright... Well, let's continue. I'm in charge of overall planning, Ava and Barbara running Secret Santa, Gregory, and Janine on décor, O'shon gets the karaoke machine—goodluck, and Mr. Johnson with the clean up. Be there before 4. Any questions?"

A unanimous chorus of "no" from the crew—and a helpless "I ain't cleanin' up no love juice, y'all hear me?" from Mr. Johnson—signalled the end of their meeting. But before Melissa could walk out of the break room, (Y/N)'s fingers danced lightly on her waist.

"You can come a little early if you want to have a bit of fun." (Y/N) 'whispered' theatrically with her signature wink, letting the message ring through the lounge. Emerald-green eyes shoot her a dangerous glare—equal parts mischief and warning.

Barb offers a sign of the cross while Janine is mentally cursing herself for agreeing to come early, too.

"Get a damn room." Ava groans, walking between the two with a force that separated them before stopping at the door frame. "Let me know which one, though."

The crew stares at the cameras.

"Stop it." Gregory states, devoid of emotion, as he just so happens to be beside Ava and spit out the freshly brewed joe he attempted to gulp down back into his "#3 Best Teacher" mug. "STOP IT."

"I think you just broke my man," Janine declares with concern as Gregory's stiff speedwalk carried him into the safety of his classroom.

The day could not have come any sooner for (Y/N), as Melissa actually took up her offer of coming early, claiming that she needed as much prep time as she could have.

"Ava, I don't know what to wear," she muttered on the phone, feeling herself slipping from reality. "I mean, yes—these dresses are absolutely gorgeous, but I don't think they're it, y'know."

The complaints turned into a grumble, making Ava roll her eyes at her friend's antics. "Baby girl, what do you mean 'it'. You don't wanna be lookin' like no clown there."

"Ava Eva Coleman."

"I know, I know. But, girl. Trust me when I say, Red will be all over you anyways! I mean, come on, have you seen the way she looks at you? I swear I could've seen her drooling that one time you were sick and stuck in hoodies for a week."

It was now (Y/N)'s turn to roll her eyes. As much as she was grateful to find an older sister in Ava, she knew that her boss exaggerates... Well, everything.

"Seriously, don't you have any dresses I could borrow?"

"I love you, (Y/N), but these dresses were made for Ava Coleman—and Ava Coleman does not cook."

"Then what am I supposed to wear?"

"Wear the red dress."

"But, Ava, that's too—"

Before she could protest, the hang-up tone beeped through her bedroom and made way to the brain-crushing silence that followed.

Just as she had put down the brown Mac lipstick that Ava had given her, the doorbell had rang, and her heart dropped to her ass. Curses flew around her as she almost burned herself on the iron she had left on her vanity.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

The rings became even more impatient, and (Y/N) could already feel the scalding remarks that the redhead had in-store for her.

"I'm coming, jeez," (Y/N) yelled, padding down the stairs. "Really, Schemmenti, you could've just said that you missed me."

"As if, shortstack. I could say the same for—"

Melissa's quip hung in the air as she took you in, surprise flooding her. But as quick as she was shot down, Melissa was as quick to regain her composure. Of course she did. She was used to the game that you two had played, ever since the first day you've stepped foot into Abbott.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you got all dressed up for me, huh, dolcezza?"

That damned nickname always got butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Stepping back, she let her into the quiant home with a smirk. "You don't look all that bad either; a Philly 11 indeed."

"Yeah, yeah. I still need to fix all of this after we cook, though."

"Hm..." Melissa hummed, raking her eyes over the house. "A house at your age? I'm surprised (Y/N)."

"Okay, I have like... The faintest idea of how old she is. Like, she barely looks 11!"

"It's my father's. One of his properties that he so graciously lent to me. But, I am paying it off. I insisted." (Y/N) looks at the bags hanging on Melissa's fingers, spotting a perfectly wrapped gift in a bag amongst all the cooking supplies she hauled in. A very welcome distraction from whatever the conversation was leading to.

Without another word, she reached down to grab them and set them out on the counter.

"(Y/N), what the hell do you think you're doing," she exclaims in her classic Schemmenti fashion. "Gimme those back."

"Calm down, mi amore." (Y/N) deadpanned, unknowingly letting the nickname slip. She walked over to the massive tree, standing in the middle of her living room and gently placing the gift down. "This is probably the only time you'll see me actually be helpful, and I'm honestly wondering who you got for Secret Santa."

"It's for her. Of course, it's for her."

Melissa looked away from the camera with annoyance. "I don't even know the first thing about the girl."

"I just—she wouldn't shut up about this corny little jawn she found online. Had to call in a favour from a guy I know. Cost me a good chunk'a beer. And gas. And my morals—but hey, who's got 'em in this day and age?"

"Don't even think about peeking, shortie." Melissa fires at her, something triggering her flight of fight mode as her usual quips didn't have the edge thay she had to her voice now. "I could ask you the same thing, seeing as your gift is as huge as Ava's ego."

"It's for someone real special, Red." (Y/N) said in an almost dreamy sigh, Melissa's face contorting into something of a blend between confusion, disgust, and something else that (Y/N) couldn't quite place. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, hm?"

Melissa pursed her lips again, thoughts running through her head like Sweet Cheeks in his wheel, yet thought better than to push it. The classic Schemmenti move to push away genuine feelings and to opt for:

"Well, just don't expect me to cry for anything less than a thousand buckaroos, hon."

"You're assuming it's for you? Wow, Schemmenti. You wish."

"It's for her. Of course, it's for her." (Y/N) let out a laugh that one could only call deranged. "It's always been Melissa."

"Got her this top of the line, custom-made knife set. My friend, Gordon, recommended it to me. It's heavy for all the chopping that Melissa does and with ornate wood handles with her initials because Italians like the pizzazz."

Clang.

"Shit."

"Mel, you okay back there?"

"M'fine." Melissa replied gruffly.

"But see, that's the thing! That's why I stick to flirting. Melissa is not ready for a relationship. She barely even handles non-romantic emotion properly!"

The camera cuts to Melissa raging a war on the automatic stove—hitting it with a frying pan with a war cry, pushing the buttons relentlessly, staring at it and hoping it'll catch on fire and disintegrate; cursing (Y/N) for having techy gabortz in her kitchen that is crushing her damn pride. "(Y/N), your thingamajig is shit! Stoves are supposed to have knobs, not opinions!"

"And besides, I doubt she even likes me."

[typicalwhitegrill]

i literally managed to get myself in and out of the hospital for my migraine that has been a bitch since March just for you baby

i told them “i have a plane to catch on Wednesday for a concert Saturday i need this shit to work, i can come back after if needed, i just need a few days please” and i did it. chronic pain will NOT get in the way

lets fucking ROCK 🤘

I’m going on tour????? In 7 days???? Are we sure? What’s happening.

[returnofeternity]

basically adult mistynat BUT reader is in nat's position. misty who is OBSESSED with her former crush (maybe even gf?) from the wilderness and once she finds you again because of the yjs shit happening again she plants the cameras in your house and watches you whenever she has the time. maybe she invites you to a bar and you guys get drinks but she lowk purposefully gets you drunk so she can take you back to her place and you know what happens next... :) she's such a perv i ❤️ her

misty and you had.... something going on in the wilderness. it was more of misty being hopeful, but you genuinely did have feelings for her. you were always the nicest to her and would stick up for her when shauna or van's teasing went too far. she was glued by your side until rescue came tbh. always followed you around like a lost puppy and would be the first to back up anything you said. love the idea of misty just thinking that you two are a thing, because it's not exactly a friendship per se... but there were never any talks about it. misty who just randomly starts holding your hand out in the wilderness and moves her bedding to the hut you share with melissa, gen, and mari (they hate their new roommate).

you two kinda just drifted off after rescue. even after the pact to keep in touch, you decided that you just needed to go off the grid and be alone. she was very upset that you never told her where you were going. she doesn't even know if you're in wiskayok still or not. and this is misty freaking quigley we're talking about, if she can't find you, then you must really not want to be found. and it kills her because she thought you'd still be with her after the rescue :/

it takes her weeks, but she finally does locate you. with the help of walter 😑 she starts stalking you, and you swear you keep seeing flashes of an old friend in your neighborhood. maybe after the crash, you found out about the black box incident and started resenting her a bit. or maybe you just don't want to associate with the yellowjackets anymore. either way, you're perfectly fine on your own (you still look up misty's name every few months just to see what comes up).

she takes the time to admire your place when she breaks in 😭 she's literally in there for 20 mins just touching everything and thinking about how this place is so you. she even watches you sleep for a bit, carefully reaching out and touching you because she can't believe it. she sets up a whole bunch of cameras... one in your bedroom, one in your bathroom, and one in the living room. she'll watch your livestream at work, she dgaf! she's watching you eat while taking care of the elderly and still manages to inject the correct medicine that they need even when her eyes are on her tablet the whole time😭

you dont know what to think, or even say, when she 'bumps' into you one day. it's a shock to you. she tells you that she was just in the neighborhood (you dont believe her) and that she can't believe she ran into you! "it's been so long!" she says as she pulls you into an unwanted hug, her nose rubbing against your neck as she inhales your scent. all you can do is smile awkwardly while trying to push down old feelings because she looks so good....

she convinces you to get a few drinks with her and says its all on her (she'll pay for as many drinks you want :) also as many as it takes to get you drunk). you guys end up talking about what you've been doing and the drunker you get, the more she tries to pry out of you because you're only giving her tiny details that she already knows from watching you 🙄 she def tries to act sexy and squishes her boobs together while leaning her arms on the table, and she just gets so much more confident when she catches you staring. honestly, she just takes you back to her place so she can take care of you 😭 both of you are equally as drunk, and she's a stumbling mess while leading you to her room. just all giggly with each other and you're sighing at her little touches as she undresses you. nothing really ends up happening but there is a longggg make out session that lasts so long that you guys end up falling asleep with your lips on each others lol.

misty waking you up by giving you head though 👀 misty who tells you that she kept all your old clothes from the wilderness and would touch herself while wearing them sometimes.

misty who won't let you leave when you sober up and keeps you trapped in her house ❤️

[unanimousgolddd]

“Bad Day, Worst Day.”

Update: I’ve finally gotten the courage to rewrite my hot, flaming trash of a fanfic I posted so long ago because I’ve gained motivation to write again, so here's the better version.

TW: angst w/fluff???, (possibly cringe fic), Wesker is possibly a bit oc, Reader is an assistant scientist working for Wesker in Umbrella/pre-Resident Evil 1, GN!Reader, Reader has a fear of needles, some vulgar language (literally just shit and asshole).

Word Count: ~2.7k

Summary: Being late and getting scolded for it makes things a bad day, but add a little bit of sabotage from a jealous scientist with chemicals and a cold boss, and it makes the day officially horrible. But lucky for you, you grow a little bit closer to Dr. Wesker in the process.

You woke up on time, 5:30 A.M. sharp, and showered a few minutes after getting up. Afterwards, you did your hair and got dressed. Your bag, shoes, and coat lay downstairs like usual. You made yourself something to eat, just so you wouldn’t starve for the next few hours. Before leaving your apartment, you brushed your teeth and quickly gathered your things.

Things were going well until traffic decided to do its job at a quarter to eight (7:45), but it was alright. You were still on time, just not as early as you would have liked to arrive at work. Parking a country mile from the building because you didn’t arrive early enough wasn’t as okay as the traffic. However, you weren’t late.

But then, the new security had wasted ten minutes at the entry of the underground labs by insisting “you had to show your proof of employment”. Not wanting to cause any trouble, you complied and dug out your ID and any possible items from your bag that said you worked at Umbrella. Now, realizing you were running late, you traversed the long and bleak corridors with haste. Finally, you arrived at your desk with a sigh, only to be fifteen minutes late, and Dr. Wesker was waiting a couple of feet away from you, sitting at his own desk. He didn’t look up from his research papers, too busy but not busy enough to give you a scolding for being late. And you didn’t dare to give him a snarky reply, your frustrations beginning to stack on top of one another.

It only slowly got worse. It wasn’t long until Dr. Wesker had ordered you to print files from the latest Tyrant experiment data. Without missing a beat, you went to the office room, which felt halfway across the building. Next thing you knew, the printer stopped working, as if wanting to worsen your day. You fixed it, thankfully (only after ten minutes of trying), and printed the test data pages. With a well-deserved exhale, you gathered the papers and made your long trip back to his office.

Making a turn to the right, only a few feet from his office, you suddenly collided with Dr. Maria and caused whatever she was holding to spill all over you. “Oh, my God! I am so sorry!” She quickly apologized, however, the emotions in her words didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t feel sorry for shit.

You grimaced at the cold feeling of the liquid chemical coating your shirt and sleeves. You had just gotten that shirt, too.

"Thanks for the bath, Dr. Maria…" You said with a short sigh. You decided not to say another word, choosing to keep your peace.

"Please forgive me," She pleaded before walking off with the container that once had liquid in it. You failed to notice that papers, which had fallen out of your hands due to your collision, were now in hers.

You shook your head, glancing over your shoulder at the woman. You never quite liked her, having taken note of her frequent attempts to sabotage others (specifically you) whenever she had the chance. She’s always exhibited this type of behavior since you’ve been promoted to Dr. Wesker’s assistant. She was quite jealous (how stereotypical).

But at the sudden feeling of a burning sensation on your neck, face, and stomach, the chemical had seeped into your clothing, you rushed to the bathroom. Now standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you quickly took off the lab coat and tossed it in the contamination bin. Finally, having a clearer view of where your skin came in contact with the chemicals, you saw how irritated it had become. It was as if you were experiencing hives or a skin rash. Your shirt had to go too, and it was also tossed in the bin.

Whatever the chemicals were, it was obvious Dr. Maria had done this on purpose.

Running your hands under the faucet, you splashed water onto your face and used the soap and several pieces of paper towel to clean your skin the best you could. You only had five more minutes until you had to return to the lab.

The water was cold, and it helped slow the irritation of your skin, easing the burning sensation. However, the redness didn’t disappear immediately. You shook your head as you made a silent joke to yourself about how you looked like you were having an allergic reaction. You made use of the extra shirt and lab coat that were in the closet next to the sink. The shirt and coat were a few sizes too big, the shirt occasionally readjusting itself incorrectly on your shoulders. However, both articles of clothing had to do for the rest of the day.

With another sigh, you walked out of the bathroom and headed back to Dr. Wesker’s office. You hesitated in opening the door, trying to give yourself at least another moment to prepare for another scolding.

Eventually, you stepped back into the quiet space and glanced over at Dr. Wesker, who was going over files with his back turned to you.

Dr. Wesker was a handsome man, undeniably, even with the pair of sunglasses he wore constantly. Although he gave an air of unapproachable, he was ambitious and intelligent and always seemed to do every action meticulously and purposefully. This in itself was attractive. Or perhaps, it was his coldness, his ranking over you, that attracted you to him (or maybe it was just his face that was the most attractive thing).

"You're back," He said without looking, "I was wondering when you would get here." He finally looked up, and he didn't seem happy. Although he never seemed happy.

You swallowed, fingers adjusting the collar of the shirt for the third time. The darn thing kept moving. "I'm sorry, I had to take care of something… I promise it won't happen again, Dr. Wesker." You said, and he only sighed in response.

"Dr. Maria gave me the files… I recall assigning you to give them to me." He looked at you through the black shades, and you promptly cursed under your breath. You avoided his eyes, feeling his gaze on her face, watching your reaction as if you were another experiment.

That's what she did. She spilled the chemicals on you just to give him the files. She was petty, but smart; you had to give her that.

"I'm sorry, I–" But you quickly started to get an itch all over your body, and it distracted you from completing your sentence. "I… I knew I dropped them somewhere–" You started scratching at your neck and arms through the sleeves of your shirt and lab coat. By now, you figured that you looked like a dog frantically itching at fleas.

Dr. Wesker, who began to move towards you as he called your name, concerned. Grabbing the spare latex gloves from his lab coat pockets, he put them on, and his eyebrow slightly twitched. "Come here." He ordered. You glanced up at him before moving closer cautiously, hands still scratching your body. Once closer, he guided your hands from your neck with his hands on your wrists as his eyes observed your skin. You felt hot under his gaze, like you were exposed despite being fully clothed. You felt comparable to a muse, standing in front of an artist as they concocted their next art piece.

"Come," He said, moving away and walking to the laboratory.

You quickly followed, trying to resist the urge to scratch at the skin that burned. Eventually, the sensation felt painful, with your red skin throbbing. Tears that were a mixture of the subconscious reaction to the painful reaction to the chemicals, but also your frustrations towards today’s events, began to fill your eyes. However, you blinked them away to prevent yourself from crying. He pointed to one of the lab beds for you to sit before shining a black light on the skin of your neck.

"Is it anywhere else?" He asked, and you felt his gaze on your face again.

"Yeah. My stomach and arms." You said with a shaky voice. Your fingers twitched, urging you to scratch at your skin once more.

He gestured for you to take off the lab coat and the shirt. You took off the coat, which he tossed in a bin. But when it came to your shirt, you hesitated, but with the weight of his expectant gaze, you pushed your shirt up. Wesker made no indication he was bothered by the sight of your stomach, simply touching the irritated skin of your stomach like a doctor would.

"Hmm…" He hummed. You hissed as the burn sensation flared, sending you to the brink of shedding tears. Usually, you wouldn’t cry this easily. Working under Dr. Wesker made you develop thick skin. However, after being late and scolded for being so and having an unknown liquid spilled all over you, your frustrations were bound to reach a boiling point. You closed your eyes, embarrassed about the very idea of crying in front of your boss, and in pain. You could hear him sigh as he rummaged around the room, searching for something. "I believe you have side effects from a poison ivy liquid." He said, somewhere around the room. "You're lucky, we have a solution to your problem…"

You slowly opened your eyes and immediately, your gaze landed on the small bottle and container in his hands. Wesker opened the container, now wearing a fresh pair of black latex gloves, he prepared a syringe. Anxiety rose at the sight of the needle. It was ironic that you took a job at a pharmaceutical company with a fear of needles. You swallowed nervously, eyes shifting from the syringe in his right hand and the pair of shades that kept the color of his eyes from you.

“Why a syringe?” You asked, trying to mask your fear. However, your flinch when he came closer was too obvious, and the little creases in between his brows softened just a little. “Afraid of a little needle?” He asked. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or not.

He gave another sigh. He placed the needle back down in the metal tray, his hands moving to unbutton the top of the big shirt. You kept your eyes on his hands, watching as his fingers slipped the collar off your left shoulder to expose the deltoid part of your arm. You refused to look too much in his gentle touch. "Relax. You’ll be fine." He said to try and ease you. He gently turned your head away from your left shoulder, knowing if you saw the needle again, you’d completely object against getting a shot.

Closing your eyes, you soon felt the prick of the needle on your shoulder. Once the syringe was empty, he removed the needle and discarded it in the sharps bin. A moment later, he placed a bandage where the needle had entered before rubbing your shoulder, gaze on your face as you tried to ignore the burning and itching sensation. However, minutes prior, without your acceptance, your tears had begun to fall, frustrations from the day pouring out. Uncharacteristically of him, he had begun to shush you, gloves off his hands, and thrown them in the trash as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. Surprisingly, his fingers were soft, like he had been using a hand lotion.

“Why the tears?” He asked quietly. He stiffened when you leaned forward, head resting just below his chin. But eventually, he wrapped his arms around you loosely. It was obvious he wasn’t touched often. You clung onto him, like how a child would to their mother. It was unprofessional to do that, but you didn't care anymore. And eventually, you explained everything to him, from the early morning traffic and hold up at the entrance of the underground laboratories to Maria spilling the God awful substance onto you. He stayed quiet, proving to himself to be a good listener.

And when you finally eased, the tears drying on your cheeks, he separated from you. He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about Dr. Maria. No assistant of mine will be distracted from the work I give them, yes?” He said before he turned. You quickly redressed yourself, buttoning up the white shirt before getting off the bed. “Take the rest of the day off. I believe you…” He paused, looking over his shoulder at you. “Earned it.” If you hadn’t been staring at him for a moment, you wouldn’t have noticed the small quirk of the corner of his lips. And then, Dr. Wesker was out of the room, leaving you alone.

You best believe you took the chance of the day off. You treated yourself to a nice hot shower at home, scrubbing away the day (and the chemicals) off before spending time in your bed, watching TV shows you needed to catch up on as you ate dinner. The itching and burning had left hours ago, and now the redness had finally disappeared by the time you went to bed. After that day, things felt oddly uneventful. It wasn’t until a week later, you decided to confront Dr. Wesker.

“Did you do something to Dr. Maria?” You asked, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. He didn’t look up from his computer. A moment later, almost fifteen seconds later, he responded.

“What makes you believe I did something?” He asked a question of his own, fingers typing away quickly. Your eyes narrowed at the blond man.

“I haven’t seen her in a week, ever since she spilled those chemicals on me. It’s unlike her, she takes every opportunity to make my life hell.” You said. “And, last week, you told me not to worry about her.” You reminded him, shifting your weight from your left foot to your right.

He hummed. “Yes, I did. And yet, now you’re worrying about her.” He said, finally tilting his head up to look at you. He clasped his hands in front of him, the lid of the laptop folded at a forty-five-degree angle. His attention was finally on you now, it was what you wanted, yet it felt too much at the same time. You took a conscious breath. “Just admit you did something to her, Wesker.” You persisted, keeping your gaze locked on him. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, head tilting to the left.

“When I said no assistant of mine will be distracted from the work I give them, I meant it. Dr. Maria proved to be a distraction, and she needed to be removed.” Wesker said bluntly. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Are you suggesting you fired her? Just for me?” You asked. You swallowed as he stood from his desk, making his way around the wooden furniture and standing tall in front of you. So close yet so far. There was at least a foot in between you both, yet, if you just moved half that distance, it would make the space seem like you were inches from his person.

“You can’t just do that, Wesker–” You objected immediately. His left brow quirked.

“I wouldn’t say I was suggesting the idea that I fired her…” He muttered, gaze locked onto your eyes. Half of you wanted to look away from the sunglasses, another wanted to continue to hold his gaze for as long as you could. “I merely moved her to a different department where Dr. Maria is more useful.” He said plainly.

“Why not? She proved to be a distraction to your work and a danger to your well-being.” You fell silent at this.

“Besides, I like you better when you’re not crying your eyes out because of some jealous woman.” He said before he suddenly turned, moving back to his seat at his desk. Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, you stared at him as he resumed his typing. But for a moment, you could’ve sworn his lips were curled in a satisfied smile.

Maybe, just maybe, your boss wasn’t a total aloof asshole.

[siambre]

hello again. things are only getting worse here, so i wanted to give an update.

so A LOT of things happened since my last update, but i will only touch upon the most important ones here, otherwise this'll end up being the longest post on tumblr. i'll get the wildest shit out of the way first:

1- a few days ago, Erdoğan said that any person who decides to run as president against him will perish. yes, he literally used that word. and today, CHP's leader was attacked and got punched in the face, and then a group of people leaked his daughter's address and stated that they'd kill her tonight (thankfully, there haven't been any news of her getting harmed). the man who attacked CHP's leader turned out to have MURDERED TWO OF HIS OWN CHILDREN, IS A DRUG DEALER, AND HAS FACED CHARGES OF THEFT AND THREATENING PEOPLE. now, you may be asking "wtf??? why is that man not in prison????" and you would be absolutely correct. but you see, our Minister of Justice goes on tv every day and says that we're a state of law and have an independent judiciary, so there's nothing to worry about :D

2- after İmamoğlu's arrest, his lawyer got detained. and then his lawyer's lawyer got detained for MEDDLING IN A JUDICIAL PROCCESS. like, that's his fuCKING JOB??? so now İmamoğlu's lawyer's lawyer has a lawyer :DD

3- the Turkish Police Organization made an announcement saying that people who say that they will "speak about women who are sexually assaulted in custody every day and resist against this" will face charges :DDD

4- the Council of Higher Education sent a message to all universities that any student, professor, or staff supporting the protests or calling for an academic boycott should "be dealt with and reported to the council" :DDDD

5- in total, 301 students were arrested during the protests, and a lot of them were unlawfully kept in jail cells with actual criminals (like murderers, rapists, and drug dealers). one student was strangled in his sleep by a cellmate for "being a terrorist". another student had to live with broken bones and ribs for a week before being allowed to see a doctor. it's also said that the cells are overcrowded, so people have to sleep on the stone floor and rotate each night on who gets to sleep on a bed. :DDDDD

6- 3 people who held up a poster which said "Dictator Erdoğan" were taken from their homes at dawn by the police and arrested. one of them has a chronic illness and her condition is getting worse by the day, but she still won't be released. even worse, a few days before her arrest, a TERRORIST who TORTURED AND BRUTALLY MURDERED SOMEONE was given an executive pardon by Erdoğan due to health concerns. but guys it's okay, we are a state of law :DDDDDD

7- about 50 more high-ranking officials in the Istanbul Municipality and businessmen who worked with İmamoğlu were arrested. 2 of those people were İmamoğlu's brother-in-law and the wife of İmamoğlu's advisor. another one was the President of Istanbul Water and Sewerage Administration. turns out, he was arrested on the testimony of a businessman who had demanded something unlawful from him and he had declined :) another arrested person was asked by he kept calling 2 people in particular. they were his brothers :)) this is the shit we have to deal with.

alright, now onto more "normal" stuff. the street protests have mostly died down due to police brutality and censorship (journalists who show them are arrested, and our social media is so heavily censored that we hardly see people talking about them online and we have to really put in work to continue seeing relevant posts. these make it easy to assume that no one's protesting anymore, and thus make you less likely to take to the streets). the focus of the protests has instead shifted to boycotting government-supporting companies. we are living in an authoritarian oligarchy, so Erdoğan's supporters own almost everything we consume. in order to boycott them, we've resorted to checking the owners of every item and service we buy — eggs, pads, milk, flour, coffee shops, shopping malls... anything you can think of. i go out of my way and avoid those brands and markets, even if it costs me more to do so.

we had a nationwide general boycott on April 2. on that day, we (i.e. HALF THE NATION) agreed to halt ALL kinds of purchases, no matter the company, and refused to buy anything for a whole day. people stayed home to avoid paying for gasoline or public transportation, made their own coffee at home, brought home-made food to office, some businesses closed down for the day in solidarity or gave out free food/drinks, and some people exchanged groceries with their friends/neighbors so that they wouldn't have to go to the store. this scared the SHIT out of Erdoğan because not only did it show everyone how united the opposition had become, but it also severely cut down on nationwide spending, therefore he'd be losing out on all those taxes he and his supporters would steal later. the night prior, he had multiple ministers call news channels to convince his supporters that boycotts are not useful and they're harmful for the economy. (it's funny, he's been boycotting Israel's products for longer than a year, yet only NOW boycotting has become a bad thing.) on the morning of the boycott, even more ministers (including the Minister of Defense) went shopping and filmed propaganda of buying a bunch of things to "support our domestic companies". the Minister of Internal Affairs called the boycott a "coup attempt", others called boycotters "traitors" and "enemies of capital" (capital as in money). multiple celebrities got kicked off of their TV shows for supporting the boycott, and some were even detained. the day after, mainstream media declared that the boycott failed and caused national spending to double from April 1 to April 2. people joked that if Erdoğan is saying that the spending doubled, then it must have been cut in half in reality. turns out, that's ACTUALLY what happened lmfaoooo. according to the central bank statistics that were released a week later, the spending nationwide dropped by 53% on April 2nd. can't make this shit up lol. just to show you a visual representation of what the boycott caused, here's what a popular location in Istanbul looked like on the day of the boycott (pic 1) vs what it normally looks like (pic 2).

another note about the boycotts, a businessman who had called protesters "traitors" turned out to own an entertainment company, and that he was going to organize concerts/shows for the famous band Muse, Norwegian musician Ane Brun, and comedian Trevor Noah. a boycott was called for this company, so people started mass-messaging, tweeting, and mailing Muse, Ane Brun, and Trevor Noah to reschedule their events with another company. all 3 have now cancelled/postponed their events. the businessman later said that he regrets calling us traitors, not because he was mistaken but because he "lost millions of dollars".

since the day of İmamoğlu's detainment, the central bank has had to sell 50 BILLION USD to keep the economy stable. when we run out of money to burn, that's when things will REALLY go to shit.

on March 29, CHP held a massive rally in Istanbul. allegedly, over 2.2 MILLION people attended it. this number is even more impressive when you consider that this day was the first day of a 9-day national holiday (so thousands of potential attendees left Istanbul for their hometowns), entrance to Istanbul was restricted so that people wouldn't join the protests from out of town (this had been going on for a while at this point), and Erdoğan made it really difficult to get to the rally area (he lowered the metro services that were going there, and shut down the metro stations nearby so people, including elderly and disabled people, had to walk several kilometers). in addition to the people in the picture below, thousands more were walking to the rally area when the pic was taken.

CHP has also been holding rallies across the country, especially in the cities where Erdoğan gets the most votes. for example, pic 1 is from Yozgat (72.58% of its population voted for Erdoğan in 2023) and pic 2 is from Konya (69.37% voted for Erdoğan in 2023).

okay a little history lesson: on April 23 1920, Atatürk officially opened the Turkish Parliament in Ankara (our current capital) and conducted our War of Independence against the Greeks, the Brits, and the Ottomans from there. this date was declared to be our National Sovereignty and Children's Day. this year, CHP (which Atatürk founded btw) wanted to gather the people in front of the Parliament and walk together to Atatürk's mausoleum, but Erdoğan banned this and barricaded thousands of people in (they ended up breaking through the barricades and going to the mausoleum anyway). the funny thing here is that the police unlawfully blocked roads to stop people from joining the protest, and then when the driver of CHP's bus refused obey the ban, Erdoğan had him detained and sentenced to house arrest :)

on May Day, thousands of protesters gathered all over the country. in Istanbul alone over 400 people were detained (and 230 more were detained in the days prior for calling for the protests). these protesters, again, faced police brutality and torture. it's reported that over 50 THOUSAND police were tasked with stopping the protesters that day (which included unrelated and unlawful police forces like the traffic police). they locked down THE ENTIRETY of downtown Istanbul, and demanded people to prove that they're living/working in the those districts in order for them to be let in. they didn't even let doctors see their patients. if that doesn't prove we're being occupied by our own government, i don't know what does. below are footages from those protests.

police using force on lawyers who are trying to reach the protesters

a protester being dragged on the ground and police pushing journalists around

a member of parliament (who has legal protection from the police) being blockaded by the police

as i said, i could list so much more but i'll spare you the misery. thinking about them alone drains the life out of me. if you want to help us, please please like and reblog this. we need all the help we can get. the international silence on Erdoğan's dictatorship is honestly so heartbreaking (but not surprising).

just like last time, i'll end this on a positive note. here's a picture of two protesters kissing in front of a police barricade.

last but not least, here's another quote from Atatürk:

“İstiklal, istikbal, hürriyet, herşey adaletle kaimdir!”

(Translation: "Independence, future, freedom, everything exists with justice!")

hello all. as you might have heard, right now Turkey is on the brink of slipping into autocracy. as a Turk, i feel it’s my obligation to raise awareness of what we are and have been going through for the past 23 years. i’m not asking for any donations — i only want our voices to be heard.

the details are below the cut.

last Wednesday, the President of Turkey detained his most powerful rival and the Mayor of Istanbul, Ekrem İmamoğlu, along with more than 100 others including mayors of prominent Istanbul districts (who are all members of opposition parties). İmamoğlu was detained on the basis of corruption and aiding terrorist organizations; however, his interrogation questions reveal that the charges are entirely based on hearsay. nevertheless, he was arrested yesterday based on the corruption charges, and sent to the same prison where another opposition leader and many opposing journalists are also being held. to add insult to injury, just the day before his detainment, İmamoğlu’s university diploma was unlawfully revoked. a university degree is required to become president here, so this was clearly done to bar him from running for president. ironically, our current president famously didn’t go to university (although he claims that he did).

İmamoğlu and the other mayors’ arrests are the culmination of 23 years of our president’s regime. he rules with fear and violence. if you speak against him in any way, you lose your job and, in many cases, go to prison. that’s how he has silenced our nation for more than 2 decades. he has built himself an empire off the back of our people and continues to milk us for everything we have. he owns all branches of the government, all the ministries, the military, the police. EVERYTHING. his policies have destroyed our education system, there’s no justice anymore (unless it’s against the opposition), at least one woman gets murdered every single day, people aren’t safe even inside their homes, you can’t find a job unless you know the right people, there are almost no governmental checks on important industries due to corruption (ie. food regulation, construction, etc.), and last but certainly not least, the sky-high inflation has lead to millions of people living below the starvation threshold. i mean, just look at how much our currency has been devalued over the years.

people are suffering. they’re committing suicide because they can’t afford to live or provide for their families. and it’s only going to get worse. İmamoğlu’s arrest alone has devalued our currency by 10% in a single day.

as if all these weren’t enough, two consecutive earthquakes in 2023 caused the death of an estimated 100-200 THOUSAND people and injured thousands more. we have been paying the government a special tax specifically for disaster situations like this since 2002 — and yet, when the time came, the government STILL failed to rescue, help, or protect the survivors. they literally sold blood and tents to the survivors... AND instead of delivering the goods that millions of citizens gathered to send to the survivors, some municipalities of the ruling party stored them for themselves and gave them out as “gifts” to potential voters when the elections came around.

moreover, last month 79 people burned to death in a luxury ski resort, and all the government did was blame the firefighters and detain the mayor of the city (a popular opposition party member).

not a single government official resigned after either of these disasters.

there are so many other examples of the president and his cronies’ depravity, but if i were to list them all, we’d be here all year. i hope you can understand why we, the people, are frustrated with them. we have been crushed under his thumb for decades.

we are fed up. we are angry.

so it was no surprise that the public reacted against İmamoğlu’s detainment. what no one expected, however, was how MASSIVE the backlash would be. the last mass protest we had was 12 years ago, and the protesters involved with it are STILL being prosecuted. now, it’s said that over a million people are out on the streets every day, and the numbers keep rising. yesterday, all while İmamoğlu was being arrested, the main opposition party held a vote to officially pick him as their presidential candidate, and they invited the public to vote symbolically to show support. over 15 million people showed up to cast their votes for him (around 61 million people in total can vote in a real election, and remember, many people didn’t/couldn’t vote due to fear of repercussions). this arrest has brought every opposition party and organization together and had them rally against the government. and i do mean EVERY opposition party. right, left, religious, secular… ALL of them. university students who were murdering each other 40 years ago due to their right-left clashes are now running to each other’s rescue and holding hands. that should give you an idea of how huge of a deal this is.

this is the president’s worst nightmare — us coming together and no longer fearing him. because he knows that if we remember our strength as the people and keep up the fight, he doesn’t stand a chance against us.

here are a few photos from the protests:

peaceful protests are our constitutional right, but before we even heard of İmamoğlu’s detainment or had the chance to protest, the president released his army of riot police on us with their batons, tear gas, rubber bullets, and armored cars. he declared that all large gatherings were prohibited for 4 days (which he later extended to 8), slowed down the internet so we couldn’t use Twitter or Instagram or Whatsapp to communicate, censored news channels and threatened to end any channel that broadcasted live footage of the police brutality against the protesters, called the protesters “street terrorists” and “vandals”, detained more than 1100 protesters (some of whom i personally know), and continues to detain protesters from their homes using facial recognition. the detained protesters are kept from speaking to their lawyers for as long as possible (thus extending their detention), and many more are being injured out on the streets (some permanently). it’s only a matter of time until someone gets killed.

the average citizen doesn’t own guns here. the only people that do are the armed forces and gang members. and yet, we’re still fighting back against the police who fire rubber bullets, tear gas, and freezing pressurized water at us, and beat us up. we’ve already caused some minor changes with these protests, but they’re not nearly enough. tonight, the opposition leader has called for a nationwide boycott targeting every company close to the government (he even gave specific brand names, another first in Turkish political history).

as a nation, we’ll have to endure a lot of physical, mental, and economic hardship to get rid of our dictator. but it’ll be worth it in the end. it has to. we’re at the end of the road here. one more step forward, and we’ll turn into Russia. we can’t let that happen. this is a fight for life or death now, and we have almost nothing left to lose.

if you’re looking for ways to help us, the most effective thing you can do is to stop buying anything imported from Turkey and, if you can, cancel any upcoming trips here until the president steps down. domestic and international economic pressure is our greatest weapon against the government.

this fight will seriously hurt the country as a whole, but us Turks are used to adversity. we will fight until the last man if we must. democracy will prevail.

HAK! HUKUK! ADALET!

[laurrelise]

hello!!! today is may fifth (5/05) which means it’s five day!!!!! so here is a mini art dump of some recent five drawings :)

^ this one is a recent favorite of mine, i’ve been loving sketching with this one particular pen because the hatching is just so fun. i will be doing many many more drawings in this style, trust 🙏

(also: after talking it over with a friend i decided not to add the mustache because this is very clearly the outfit from the greenhouse scene and he literally does not have a mustache. why do they have a mustache on him. what the hell is up with that)

^ another recent favorite with that same pen!! very very proud of this one, i’ve always struggled with making a face look exactly like the person it’s referencing but for some reason i feel like i really nailed this one :>

^ none of these really look like the references and that pisses me off but i am proud of them regardless. i love drawing old five even if i struggle to do him any justice whatsoever 💪💪

^ just some silly little studies!! my favorite is his disgusted face, i think it’s very fun and silly and also i managed to make him look very disgusted. c’mon guys stop laughing!!!! who does he gotta kill to get a decent cup of coffee!!!!!!

^ this one is fun even though it truly looks nothing like him. bonus points for mary j. blige in the og pic!!!

^ i literally have no idea what’s going on with bro’s eyes in this one, i tried a different style with no reference picture and chaos ensued

^ this shit is so fucking stupid i can’t take it

^ this is one i did forever ago on whiteboard fox with my friends!! i actually never got around to doing that dtiys challenge even though i was so excited to and i did this instead, but i do not feel confident about it enough to submit it there so into the art dump it goes!!!

^ these are just a few older digital sketches that i feel iffy about, but they are five so we’ll toss them in with the rest of the bunch!!

^ just some silly little old five sketches, i really think we need to unanimously draw and write about a teenage punk rebellious lila and an old tired five as an assassin frenemies duo. i think they could be unstoppable, please and thank you

^ also: pooptoe is very special to me, i was at the park sketching with @quimbitz and she told me to draw five as a potato so i did and then she wrote pooptoe and we laughed for several minutes on end and it is now a beloved inside joke. bless

anyways!! i haven’t posted any art in like forever, but i am working on so much behind the scenes and trying to decide how i wanted to post it all, but i think i’ve got some ideas so stay tuned for that !!

[juicykvnture]

SPRING BREAKERS - PT 2

Jason Todd x fem!Reader x Roy Harper | Challengers AU

Tags: somno (brief), PiV, thigh fucking, threesome, Jason’s a loser, Roy’s a perv, Reader’s a menace.

a/n: I don’t have a single respectable thing to say.

wc: 3k

part 1 | masterlist

You hate the Stanford dorms more than anything in the whole world, especially in the heat.

All these thousands of dollars poured into your college every single year, only for every single AC unit in the building to be unusable.

“I’m literally going to die.” Roy all but whines as he stares up at the ceiling, fanning his face with a random copy of Vogue he found somewhere in your closet.

“Roy, do me a favour, yeah?” You lift your head from the pillow, reaching over to give the busted fan on your nightstand a solid whack so it keeps spinning, then another one for good measure.

“Mhm?”

“Go slam your head into that wall over there.”

He’s dazed for a moment, his brain working overtime to figure out what you could possibly want from him before he blinks, his lips curling into a small, almost childish pout.

“What did I ever do to you?” He frowns like an idiot, strands of his red hair clinging to his forehead.

“Live, breathe, exist in the same vicinity as me, perhaps?”

What? He asked, you answered.

“You’re lying. You love me.” He grins up at the ceiling, waving the magazine around in his hand before attempting to swat your thigh with it.

Unfortunately, he underestimated how dizzy the heat makes him, resulting in it landing on the floor.

“I can assure you, she doesn’t.” Jason mutters, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, water dripping down his neck and rolling down his bare chest from dunking his face in the sink in a desperate effort to cool off.

“We’re just her boy toys, no? Destined to end up somewhere in a landfill like the rest of ‘em.” He remarks dryly, but you’ve learned to read his expressions and what they mean, he’s just slightly amused judging by the way his eyebrows are slightly raised.

Scoffing, you sit up as you fan your face with your hand, peering over at him through your lashes.

“You make me sound like a bitch.”

Silence.

Jason’s eyes are anywhere but yours, deciding to focus on the fan on your bedside table and how unpredictably it moves, spinning in one direction, and then the other before stopping completely.

A lot like you, he thinks.

Did he seriously just compare you to a fucking busted-up fan?

Roy isn’t saying anything either, now suddenly extremely fascinated by the seam running across your pillow in his lap, dragging his fingers over it.

Okay, maybe you deserved that?

You haven’t brought up what happened last week, like at all. But fuck, if they’re blaming you for this then it’s just hypocritical.

They were literally both there. You’re all somewhat functional adults, yet all three of you are dancing around this.

It seems you’ve all decided to park that thought for now. It’s the hottest day of the year so far and you’re more focused on trying not to literally evaporate on the spot.

Still, this week has been different. You’re spending more time together which is a miracle considering how much of a headache both of them are. Jason has the communication skills of a plank of wood and Roy is so painfully ridiculous you wonder how he’s even made it into adulthood.

The glances linger now, they’re not fleeting like they used to be. Jason is now able to handle a conversation with you for just about 15 seconds at a time, which is great compared to the one or two syllables you used to be able to force out of him.

Roy is still Roy, just more shameless, a feat you didn’t even know was achievable by human standards. His tennis mightn’t be good enough for the Olympics but if there were awards for being the biggest manwhore, he’d know all about having balls in his court.

You haven’t gotten your shirt back either, it’s the only sort of cotton house shirt that wasn’t some kind of overpriced, polyester piece of shit like the ones you wear on the court.

He claims he lost it but knowing Roy, it’s probably shoved under his mattress or something like the freak he is. You grimace at the possibility of him jerking off into it. Your poor T-shirt.

As some weird kind of compensation, he offered you one of his instead. You were hesitant but you needed something breathable in this kind of weather.

Jason blinks for a moment, stepping out of the doorway to stare at what you’re wearing.

I TOLD YA

Bold, black lettering, printed across your tits.

“How’d you get my shirt? I’ve been looking for it.”

You glance down at yourself, then at Jason, and then over at Roy in confusion.

Okay, well you may be on the verge of a heatstroke but even in this state, you all know that items of clothing don’t tend to magically duplicate themselves.

“Roy gave it to me? It’s his shirt..” you trail off, glancing between the two of them once more.

Jason’s hands fall by his sides, staring at Roy.

“How? I have the exact same one and haven’t been able to find it since-“

He pauses, resting his hands on his hips.

Glancing between the two of them, you’re confused for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of it as the three of you work to find the true origins and rightful owner of the shirt you’re currently wearing.

And just like that, it all falls into place, Jason running a hand through his hair.

“Dude.”

If Jason’s shirt has somehow been in Roy’s custody this long.. you’re nearly sure it has gone through the same fate as your one at some point.

Oh!

“Roy you fucking freak.” You mumble into your pillow, reaching out to flip it so the cold side presses against your face.

He just curls his lips into an awkward, somewhat apologetic smile, offering a shrug.

“Jesus, I washed it before I gave it to you, okay?”

Yeah, as if that makes this any better.

“That doesn’t make this any better for me, you fucking degenerate!” Jason groans into his hand, his cheeks flushing from equal parts grave embarrassment and the sweltering heat in your dorm.

“No no no, Jay, you don’t get to call me the degenerate, not after what happened last week-”

Silence, again.

Rolling your eyes you give the fan another solid whack, glancing between them with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, so you two have zero problems jerking eachother off every fucking night, but facing last week is a stretch too far?” You let out an irritated scoff, only to be interrupted by Jason sputtering, throwing his hands up in surrender, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“He did it in his bed, okay? I did it in my bed. We did it together, but like opposites sides of the room..”

He’s rambling, over-explaining.

Roy makes a dismissive gesture of his hand with every syllable he utters, unable to hold back a smirk.

“No, Jason. If my memory serves me right, I can recall you getting up and-“

“Confront your crippling feelings at another time. My head hurts, kay?” You cut them off, letting your face hit the pillow again.

——————————— ☆ ———————————

You’re not sure what time it is, you don’t care to check. All you know for sure is the fact you’re still boiling out of your skin and you swear the fan on the side table has been stuck like that since you fell asleep, it sputters awkwardly every couple minutes but judging by the sweat dripping down your neck, it’s useless.

“..stop moving.” You hear a mumble muffled by the pillows, not entirely sure if it’s Jason or Roy talking. You’re too tired to ask, too lazy to lift your head, and too hot to think.

“You’re fuckin’ sweatin’ all over me.” You grumble under your breath, the heavy bodies draped over you on either side making the whole space even warmer.

None of them move, and you hear no response either.

“Jason?” You whisper-yell, only to be met with a sleepy grumble into your neck, his arm draped over your torso.

Right, so it’s Roy who’s complaining then? You’re not entirely sure, though. That must be who’s back you’re facing at the moment.

It seems Roy’s grumble was a one-off and he’s gone back to sleep, thank god, you’ve had enough of his whining for the day.

You shift slightly, attempting to push them off of you, even if it’s just by an inch, only so you can breathe better.

Jason’s having absolutely none of it. Not after Roy cockblocked him last week. He’s not letting that happen this time. No fucking way.

“No, come back,” he breathes against your neck, his fingers curling into the fabric of your (his? Roy’s?) shirt, pushing it up and out of this way.

You’ve heard him say those exact words before. The night all of you refuse to acknowledge.

That goes straight over your head though, your face pushed into your pillow until you feel hands sliding up from your hips to your stomach, fingers pressing into your ribs.

“The fuck?” Your mutter is barely audible, unable to bring yourself to open your eyes.

Jason’s breathing is unsteady, trying to keep himself quiet by pushing his face into your neck, your skin heating up even more.

One of his hands slides back down to your hips, fumbling with the waistband of your underwear to pull it down your thighs, a small, frustrated whine soon following, his sounds muffled by your shoulder.

“Shit, you’re so pretty,”

He swallows, his cock throbbing in his sweatpants as he pushes himself against you, pressing himself against your ass. It’s like he needs to be as close to you as he physically can, despite the heat. He really does.

“M’sorry, fuck m’so sorry..”

His mumbles into your neck are barely coherent, pressing a trail of sleepy, haphazard kisses down the back of your neck, his shaky hand now going to fumble with his waistband, tugging at the drawstrings while he pushes his face into your shoulder in a desperate effort to keep himself quiet.

Your tired little mumbles are so sweet he swears he could just die (or cum) on the spot. You’re so sweet like this. As much as he secretly loves when you make fun of him or boss him around, what he’s feeling for you now is just indescribable.

He almost has a heart attack when he feels you moving, his breathing shaky as he stares at the back of your head through half-lidded eyes.

No, No, No

You’re going to hate him. He’s ruined everything. He feels like he could cry, but he wouldn’t even have a fucking excuse to explain himself other than his almost pitiful need for you.

Shit. He’s done it. He’s definitely fucked up now and you’re gonna know he’s a fucking creep and you’re gonna turn around any second and yell at him and-

He blinks in disbelief, feeling your hand resting over his to stop the fact he’s still fucking around aimlessly with the flimsy cotton, trying to get your panties down your thighs.

And when he feels your hand slide down lower, pulling your underwear to the side - he swears he can’t breathe.

“Thank you, thank you - fuck - thank you,” He’s panting in your ear like a mantra, his hips stuttering as he attempts to line himself up against you, his pre-cum already leaking down your thighs.

Jason seems to be hell-bent on keeping his face hidden in your shoulder, where he attempts helplessly to stifle his own sounds. He’s spooning you in a tangled mess of limbs and bedsheets, in an almost laughable attempt to restrain himself.

He can't fuck you like he wants to, unfortunately, and that kills him inside. Of course, Roy just fucking has to be here huh?

“Fuck,”

Just the thought of it has his grip on your hips tightening.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Roy, really. But come on, the fact they’re literally fucking inseparable from the court - to sharing a dorm - to literally bending over backwards for the same woman is ridiculous.

“Shit,” he half-whispers, half-whines into your ear with a shaky thrust of his hips. “I don’t give a fuck if he wakes up, serves him right for givin’ me blue balls this whole fuckin’ time.”

He’s lying, he cares.

He’d probably cry out of embarrassment for the fact Roy could see him as weak, sobbing over pussy like last time.

God, he cares so much what that guy thinks. It’s almost laughable.

But he cares what you think more.

Besides, that’s like the most you’ve ever heard him talk in one go. He sounds like he just learned what swearing is.

“Jason,” Your grip on your pillow tightens, reaching your other hand back to the nape of his neck, giving his hair a tug, “S-shut. Up.”

You manage to open your eyes, your half-lidded gaze landing on the back of Roy’s head, trying to keep yourself and Jason quiet.

Roy is quiet. Eerily quiet.

Now, those are two words that simply shouldn’t belong in the same sentence.

He hasn’t moved an inch in a while you swear you're getting wetter by the second. You can tell Jason can feel it too, panting into your shoulder like a bitch.

You’re tempted to just roll your eyes and somehow find a way to move this to the couch or something, part of you feels bad that you’re making Jason hold back like this. Another part of you wants to ignore Roy, tell Jason to hurry up and make you cum so you can forget about all of this even happening.

Then you hear it.

A quiet creak from the far side of the mattress.

Your eyes narrow, now locked on Roy’s back in front of you, the muscles rippling under his skin as he moves.

The thought of it makes you tense, Jason can feel it too, you’re moving your hips back against him, your hand going to hold his as he ruts against you, his teeth sinking into the back of your neck.

Roy sighs, loudly. Loud enough to have your eyes fully open along with Jason trying not to cry into your neck, shaking with need and rambling under his breath about how badly he just needs to fuck you harder.

“Harper,” Your words leave you before your brain even registers them, Jason hiding his face in your hair.

“Uh-huh?” Roy swallows, internally praying to every single deity to ever exist that you’re not about to ask him to-

“Turn around,”

He’s silent when your words hit his ears, echoing through his otherwise empty skull before he jolts, his shorts halfway down his thighs with his hand wrapped around himself, pushing his face into your other shoulder.

When words finally find him, he’s biting down on your collarbone, a stark contrast to Jason’s messy kisses as he tries to hold himself back.

“You two aren’t fucking subtle.” Roy’s words leave his mouth in a rasp, lifting one of your thighs up so he has a better angle for himself, his chest now presses against yours.

“I could feel your fucking eyes on the back of my head,” He swallows, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, moving to slot himself between them.

“And don’t get me fucking started on Jay over here.” He scoffs, fumbling with the drawstring of his shorts to push them down his thighs.

Jason’s trying to hide his face in your neck, but it’s clearly not working, considering the way he throbs inside you when Roy’s eyes lock onto his.

It’s a weird mixture of shame and sheer desperation, his arm locking around your torso like you’re his only shield from his own embarrassment.

You can hear Roy pant out a shaky laugh, running a hand over his sweat-slicked hair to tuck it out of his eyes, his form keeping you boxed against Jason.

It’s like you’re walking in on something again, even when Jason is literally balls deep inside you.

“Fuck,” he lets out a shaky breath, pressing himself into your thighs while Jason’s hips are trembling, trying to keep himself together as he fucks you from behind.

Roy tilts his head to kiss you, his breathing laboured as his pierced tongue brushes against yours, his half-lidded eyes aren’t on you though.

They’re locked on Jason, unwavering.

He pulls his lips away from yours, staring at Jason through his half lidded gaze before your pushing his face down into your neck, biting lightly at your skin as he pushes himself into your thighs, pulling one of your legs over his hip.

“He’s obsessed with you, yknow that? And you think I’m the perv.”

“Roy, can you just shut the fuck up?” Jason’s voice cracks, his grip on you tightening with an all but desperate thrust of his hips, hiding his face in your hair again.

“What? Am I hurting your feelings jaybird? Embarrassing you in front of a pretty girl?” Roy sneers, his teeth gleaming under the dim streetlight coming in through the cracked blinds, his grin not leaving his face for a second.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Roy making him embarrassed, that is.

“No, no, he’s lying, fuck- I swear he’s lying.” Jason’s words are more of a plea than anything else, trying to act like he’s normal about all of this, as if he hasn’t been rotting his brain.

“See why the fuck would I lie about that?” Roy murmurs, his one going to your waist as he thrusts himself into the gap between your thighs, his other reaching over your shoulder to pull Jason in by the neck do his chin rests on your shoulder, pressing his thumb against his bottom lip.

Right in front of my salad?

You let your head fall back against Jason’s shoulder, his shaky pants muffled by the nape of your neck as you push yourself back against him.

Your lashes flutter slightly as you stare at Roy, leaning your head against Jason’s now.

“The longer you spend running your mouth about him, the longer you’ll be making it up to him.”

a/n: yeah.

asks + reqs open, thank you for reading my heinous brainrot ily bye

[bunnibite]

FAIRLY UNHINGED! katsuki bakugo

parings; katsuki bakugo x delulu!fem!reader

notes; this is me with my bsf (if reader reminds u of u the physic ward is free entry!)

you’d been talking shit since the car ride.

“I’m gonna win every game, Katsuki,” you bragged, licking blue raspberry off your finger from the slushie you’d demanded before even getting to the fair. “I’m literally built for this. Carnival blood runs in my veins.”

Bakugou gave you a side-eye like you were already losing the plot. “You ain’t winning shit. You don’t got aim, or coordination, or a single ounce of balance.”

“I have confidence,” you countered, which in your delusional little mind, was more powerful than physics.

⸻

GAME #1: RING TOSS.

You kissed the ring for good luck and launched it like a frisbee. It flew three booths over and hit someone’s hot dog.

“…That counted,” you said.

Bakugou groaned. “The fuck it did.”

⸻

GAME #2: SHOOTING GALLERY

“Step aside, baby. Watch greatness in action.” You grabbed the plastic rifle like you were born on the battlefield.

You missed every duck. Every tin can. Even the giant neon target labeled “FREE PRIZE HERE.”

Bakugou was behind you, cracking up and filming it. “You’re a goddamn menace.”

You blew imaginary smoke off the gun. “Sniper. Elite tier.”

“More like blind as shit.”

⸻

GAME #3: THE STRONGMAN HAMMER.

You stepped up, psyching yourself out. You even slapped your bicep like you were prepping for battle. “This is it. Redemption arc.”

Bakugou didn’t even stop you. He was enjoying the downfall.

You swung the hammer like a hero in an anime—and the puck moved up six inches before flopping down with a sad little bell ding.

Bakugou doubled over. “Oh my god.”

“Malfunction,” you insisted. “The hammer’s rigged.”

“It’s foam.”

⸻

THEN: THE RIDES

“Oh hell yeah, we’re doing the Zipper,” you declared. “I’m not even scared. You’re scared. You literally look scared.”

Bakugou raised a brow. “It’s a carnival ride, not a warzone. Get your delusional ass in the seat.”

Two minutes later, the cage door slammed shut. The ride jolted to life, flinging you and Bakugou straight into the air.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. Then louder: “OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

You grabbed the bars with white-knuckle terror. “STOP THE RIDE. I WANNA GET OFF!”

“It just started!” Bakugou was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “What happened to carnival blood, huh?!”

You turned feral midair. “I’M GONNA DIE. I’M TOO HOT TO DIE!”

You actually tried to open the cage door mid-spin.

Bakugou had to slap your hand away. “THE HELL YOU DOIN’? SIT YOUR CRAZY ASS DOWN!”

“I’M SERIOUS. I’LL JUMP.”

“You’re 80 feet in the air! You’ll be a hot pancake!”

“I’d rather die than do another spin!”

The ride operator slowed it down—probably because he saw you trying to unbuckle mid-loop like a final destination death was pending.

Bakugou didn’t stop wheezing until you got off the ride and collapsed in the grass.

You lay there, arms out, staring up at the sky. “I’m suing this fair.”

“You should sue your own brain.”

⸻

LATER THAT NIGHT

You held a single sad prize—a knockoff Squishmallow Bakugou won “just to shut you up.”

“Best day ever,” you mumbled, shoving cotton candy in your mouth.

Bakugou rolled his eyes but wrapped an arm around you anyway. “You’re insane.”

“I’m a champion.”

“You’re a liability.”

“Still pulled though,” you teased, poking his side.

He smirked. “Barely.”

You beamed like you’d actually won something.

(Delusion wins again.)

©bunnibite. all work by me. plagiarism is prohibited