#to be clear I didn’t get a message like this just thinking about it from Rini’s ask that she got

[loafysainz]

🎥 SENDING DIRTY TEXT TO MY HUSBAND AROUND BUNCH OF PEOPLE

cast: carlos sainz, lewis hamilton, lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, george russell × reader!

warn: 18+, smut, minor dni

hope you guys enjoy it!

carlos sainz

Carlos is sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by his family, deep in conversation with his father when his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, expecting something harmless—until he sees your message:

"I can still feel you from last night. My legs are shaking just thinking about it. Maybe you should do something about it later, mi amor."

He chokes on his drink, eyes widening as his mother pats his back, oblivious to the heat rushing to his face. His fingers tighten around his phone as he clears his throat, throwing you a sharp look from across the table. You, sitting there sweetly, sip your wine like you didn’t just set him on fire.

Carlos leans closer, voice low but urgent. "Cariño, you can’t do this to me here."

But the way his jaw clenches, the darkening of his eyes, tells you he’s already planning his revenge for later.

lewis hamilton

The music is loud, drinks flowing as Lewis chats with a few celebrities in the VIP lounge. He’s mid-sentence when his phone vibrates. Casually pulling it out, he takes a quick glance—then freezes.

"I miss having your hands all over me. Maybe we should sneak out and you can remind me how good they feel?"

His lips part slightly, tongue running over his teeth as he exhales sharply. He tilts his head back, taking a slow sip of his drink, but his grip on the glass tightens.

You’re across the room, acting innocent, but when his gaze meets yours, he smirks. Oh, you’re in trouble now.

Lewis leans against the booth, texting back, “Meet me in five. Don’t bother fixing your dress. I’ll ruin it anyway.”

lando norris

Lando is laughing, lining up his shot, when his phone dings. He doesn’t think twice before checking it—only for his eyes to nearly pop out of his skull.

"Imagine me on my knees for you right now. Bet you wouldn’t be able to focus on your little golf game, huh?"

He fumbles his club, nearly dropping it as a deep red flush spreads over his face. The guys around him notice immediately.

“Lando, you good, mate?” Max Fewtrell grins.

“Uh—yeah, yeah, just—uh, hot out here, isn’t it?”

You wink at him from the golf cart, and he shoots you a warning look, shifting awkwardly as he tries to compose himself.

Later, he grabs you by the waist, voice low and desperate. “You’re so dead when we get home.”

max verstappen

Max is in the hospitality lounge, joking with Christian and a few engineers, when he checks his phone under the table. His body stiffens immediately.

"I can still taste you on my lips. Wonder if you'd rather me use my mouth somewhere else next time."

He nearly drops his phone. His face is unreadable, but you know him too well—the slight clench of his jaw, the way he shifts in his seat.

Christian nudges him. “Something wrong?”

Max clears his throat. “No. Nothing.” But his ears are red.

You catch his eye from across the room, biting your lip playfully. He exhales through his nose, tapping out a reply:

"Hotel room. Now."

charles leclerc

Charles is lounging on the deck, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends when his phone lights up. He checks it—and immediately sits up straighter.

"I wish I were sitting on your lap right now… but not in a way that’s appropriate for this party."

His breath hitches, fingers tightening around the glass. He shifts, crossing his legs to conceal his growing problem. His brother Arthur notices.

"Charles, pourquoi tu fais cette tête?" (Why do you look like that?)

"Rien," he mumbles quickly, shoving his phone into his pocket.

You smirk, and he glares at you before texting back, “Keep playing, mon amour. See what happens when we get home.”

oscar piastri

Oscar is laughing with his engineers when he checks his phone. His face immediately changes.

"You looked so good this morning. Wish I’d had more time to be on top of you before you left."

His breath catches in his throat. He coughs, nearly choking on his drink. Andrea Stella raises a brow.

"You okay, Oscar?"

"Yep. Fine. Just—uh, spicy food."

He doesn’t dare look at you, knowing the second he does, he’s screwed. Instead, he sends a quick text back:

"You better be naked when I get back."

george russell

George is the picture of politeness, sipping his tea while his mother chats about the weather. Then his phone vibrates.

He checks it discreetly—only to nearly spit out his drink.

"Wouldn’t it be fun if I slipped under the table right now and made you lose composure in front of everyone?"

His grip on the cup tightens, and he clears his throat loudly, shifting in his seat. His mother eyes him.

"Everything alright, love?"

"Yep, just—uh—just remembered something from work."

You blink innocently at him from across the table, and he clenches his jaw before texting back:

"You are absolutely wicked. But don't worry, I’ll make you beg for mercy later."

END

you can share your thought/ideas my box always open!! 🤍

[timbitshockey]

i’ve been thinking a lot about that article that interviewed these rich white 19-20 year old kids who voted for trump and how so many of them said they did it because they were tired of being told what they couldn’t say and wanted to be able to make offensive jokes again. the world we live in is so individualistic and devalues empathy to such an insane degree.

so it’s like, do i think every player who went to the white house is a trump supporter who voted for him? no, probably not. but the league is, by a vast majority, full of rich white men who likely grew up in rich white communities in a sport that devalues empathy and places so much weight on tradition. so they don’t care. going to meet the president is part of the experience of winning the stanley cup and they want the full traditional experience and they don’t care about the current political climate or what being photographed smiling and thanking trump for his time is going to look or feel like to the people who are actually effected the most by what he’s done and what he’s threatening to do. they don’t care. they want to do the fun thing they earned for playing hockey good. it’s just depressing.

and like to be clear this isn’t a way of removing agency from these guys. lots of people grew up in environments like them and managed to break free of those ingrained messages and care about other people. most of these guys just don’t want to. they don’t want to think about politics beyond whether they’ll get fired for saying slurs and if they have to wear rainbow jerseys one night a year. is every player who didn’t use pride tape after travis dermott did homophobic? no. they just don’t care enough.

which is i guess sort of the problem with sports fandom, and something we have to sit with whenever these situations happen. these are real people. they’re not characters on a show who have plot lines and character arcs. and people are often disappointing.

i don’t know if i’m going anywhere with this. i guess maybe i’d like to remind us all to be kind to each other. to be empathetic. we’ve all got our different lines in the sand for what makes players persona non gratas to us and trying to use that as a gotcha for fandom beef can only really come back to bite us. what am i gonna say to a matthew tkachuck fan when sidney crosby did the same thing when the pens won in 2017? id like to think the players i support would be different but realistically they probably wouldn’t. florida fans and tkachuk fans are in the spot they’re in because their team won the cup, not because the team and players are uniquely more evil or more trump-supporting than anyone else. i don’t want to gotcha anyone. we’re all out here trying to have fun in our sandboxes in a world where empathy is a weakness and people who really matter to us disappoint and hurt us, sometimes just by not caring at all.

anyway. i try not to get into real life stuff too much on here and this will likely be the last i say on the subject. love you guys & i hope the world is kinder to us all soon

[bootsukki]

the first time tsukki buys you flowers, it’s almost by accident.

he’s on his way to your house after practice, passing by a small flower shop, when a bouquet of soft yellow tulips catches his eye. he has no idea why he stops to look at them—maybe it’s the way they remind him of you, always bright and warm. checking his wallet, he enters the shop and buys them.

truth be told, he doesn’t expect much of a reaction from you, you have been dating for four months and he doesn’t even know if you like flowers (he knows you’re not allergic though because you always tend to the school garden with one of your friends) and when he arrives, he just shoves them into your arms.

but, when your eyes widen in delight, your fingers tighten around the stems and you look at him like he’s just handed you the stars, he knows he’s fucked.

you cling to his arm all the afternoon, giggling every time you look at the flowers and kissing him endlessly, he feels his cheeks burning.

“I should have just brought you candy.” he mutters, pretending to be annoyed.

but he does it again. and again. and again.

sometimes, he starts picking up flowers on random days—after practice, when he sees sales on his konbini… you react the same way, eyes bright, arms thrown around him, pressing kisses to his face. he mumbles under his breath but he never pulls away from your hugs and precious kisses he cherishes so much.

he continues doing so when you go to tokyo to study and he stays in sendai. every two weeks, without fail, a bouquet arrives at your doorstep, always with a note scrawled in his familiar and neat handwriting, “try not to kill these before i visit you, pretty.”

and when he sees you again, you throw yourself at him in the middle of the train station and, like always, he lets you. because he’s missed this and you.

even after college, the flowers never stop.

the day he thinks about proposing, he goes back to your old text messages, finding your messages and pictures about every single bouquet he has given you and asks for a special bouquet filled with one of every single important bouquet he has given you, from the tulips to the roses he gave you last anniversary.

as he hands you the bouquet and goes down on one knee, you tear up and nod, hands shaking as he puts the ring on your finger and he knows he made the right choice by choosing you.

the morning of your wedding is a blur of soft laughter and excitement as you sit down on the chair to start getting your makeup and hair done.

but before they can start, yachi clears her throat, drawing your attention.

“i have something for you.”

yachi grins, stepping aside to reveal the most beautiful bouquet resting in one of the vanities.

you gasp—the bouquet is a masterpiece filled with pastel calla lillies, clemantis, veronicas and slipper orchids. you stand up, reaching out for the flowers, brushing over the beautiful petals. and then, you see your name written in his familiar handwriting in an envelope.

baby,

i’d like to say that i planned all of this from the beginning, that the first time i bought you flowers, i already knew i would be doing it for the rest of my life, but the truth is that i didn’t realize until i saw your beautiful eyes and gorgeous smile when you saw the yellow tulips.

i love your smile and i wanted to see you smile. you looked at me like i had given you the world and you held to them like you never wanted to let go.

so, i kept bringing them every chance i had. do you remember how sad you were when the wind ruined the bouquet i gave you during your last finals weeks? i got so mad and sad that i ran to the store at nearly 2 am to buy you some and get them sent to you the following day.

i am not good with words, you know that so i guess that i found everything that i wanted to say through flowers: i miss you, you’re the best thing that has happened to me, i love you, i want to spend the rest of my life with you…

i think that this one is the most special one. do you remember all those late night work i had to do? i lied, sorry.

i was getting special lessons from the florist down the street: how to prepare a bouquet, how to cut the stems perfectly so they last longer, how to take care of them… all of that so i could get you what i think it is the prettiest bouquet of all the ones i have gotten you although i don’t think they are as beautiful as you are but i have selected them because their delicate colors and smoothness makes me think of you and i don’t know, i wanted to remind you that you are always on my mind.

holy shit, you and me forever. FOREVERRRRRRRRR (if you see tear marks while you read this, those are NOT mine).

i love you baby, i’ll wait for you at the end of the aisle so, take a deep breath, wipe those tears (I know you are probably crying) and see you soon. can’t wait to make you my wife.

-kei.

you clutch the letter to your chest as tears spill freely onto your cheeks and your friends laugh softly, cleaning their own tears as well.

“is it too late to use this as my wedding bouquet?”

[writeriguess]

GUURL What a joy to have you here again. I am very happy to know that you are back to doing something you like and that you do it perfectly anyway. you are amazing, i missed you ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯

I wanted to request a Bakugou x Reader where he's the bodyguard. maybe something smutty or suggestive with the situation, do what you want with it. (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 This scenario is so incredibly hot—I couldn't help but make the smut longer. Katsuki as the reader's bodyguard is just irresistible!

Duty and Desire

The rhythmic clicking of your heels against the marble floors echoed through the grand hallway, each step a reminder of the gilded cage you called life. Tonight’s charity gala was no different from the others—endless forced smiles, hollow conversations, and the subtle undercurrent of danger you’d grown used to.

Trailing behind you was Bakugou Katsuki, his sharp crimson eyes scanning every corner with the intensity of a predator on the hunt. Dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and powerful frame, he looked more like someone who belonged at the event than a hired bodyguard. But his scowl—perpetual and deadly—made it clear he wasn’t here to schmooze.

“Will you stop glaring at the walls like they personally offended you?” you teased, glancing back at him with a playful smile.

“Tch. You think this is funny?” he grunted, hands shoved into his pockets. “You’re the one with a damn target on your back. Maybe take it seriously for once.”

You rolled your eyes, but his words carried weight. The threats against you had started small—anonymous emails, cryptic messages slipped under your door—but they’d escalated. Enough for your family to hire Bakugou, a pro-hero known for his explosive temper and unyielding determination, as your personal bodyguard.

Except he didn’t just feel like a bodyguard anymore.

It was in the way his broad shoulders stiffened whenever someone got too close, the way his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long when he thought you weren’t looking. And it was in the way your skin burned whenever his hand brushed yours—brief, accidental, but searing nonetheless.

“Stay close,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff as he stepped forward, placing a firm hand on the small of your back.

The touch was fleeting but deliberate, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You hated how much of an effect he had on you.

“I’m not going to wander off into danger, Katsuki,” you said, turning your head to glance at him.

He arched a brow, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen the way you get when you’re bored. Don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

The night dragged on, the room filled with the kind of people who thought money equaled worth. You navigated the crowd with practiced ease, playing your part as the dutiful representative of your family. But no matter how many times you smiled or shook hands, you were always aware of Bakugou’s presence—his crimson gaze never leaving you.

Every time someone stepped too close, his hand would brush your arm, your back, your waist, guiding you away with a touch that was equal parts protective and possessive.

“You’re hovering,” you said at one point, turning to face him.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the job, princess,” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The nickname sent a jolt through you, as it always did. It wasn’t affectionate—not really—but there was something about the way he said it that made your stomach flip.

The tension between you simmered beneath the surface, growing harder to ignore with every passing moment. By the time the event wound down, you were desperate for some fresh air.

You slipped away to a secluded balcony, the cool night breeze a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. The distant hum of traffic filled the silence as you leaned against the railing, staring out at the city lights.

But, of course, you weren’t alone for long.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Bakugou said, his voice cutting through the quiet as he stepped onto the balcony. He shut the door behind him, effectively sealing you both off from the rest of the world.

You turned to face him, leaning back against the railing with a faint smile. “You’re off-duty now, aren’t you?”

“Not until you’re home and locked up safe,” he replied, his hands shoved into his pockets as he approached.

His presence was magnetic, his broad frame and piercing gaze drawing you in despite the simmering annoyance in his tone.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” you said, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Bakugou scoffed, his lips curving into a smirk. “Yeah? Tell that to the psychos sending you threats.”

The tension between you crackled like static electricity, the unspoken attraction growing harder to ignore. You didn’t know if it was the moonlight catching in his ash-blond hair, the way his suit hugged his muscular frame, or the fact that he was the only person who ever made you feel truly safe—but you couldn’t deny the pull anymore.

“You’re always so serious,” you murmured, your voice dipping into something softer, more intimate.

“And you’re always so damn reckless,” he shot back, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between you.

The heat radiating off him was intoxicating, his scent—smoke and spice—clouding your senses. You tilted your head up, your heart pounding in your chest as his crimson eyes bore into yours.

“Maybe I like testing your limits,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides as he stared down at you. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Don’t I?” you challenged, leaning up just enough to close the remaining distance between you.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his breath mingling with yours as he hovered just out of reach. Then, with a growl of frustration—or maybe surrender—he grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against him, his lips crashing into yours.

The kiss was everything you’d imagined: fierce, demanding, and all-consuming. His hands gripped your hips with enough force to leave bruises, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, his kiss turning rougher, more desperate.

“Knew you’d be trouble,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice rough and low as he pressed you back against the railing.

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tugged him closer.

Bakugou growled, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the edge of the railing as he stepped between your legs. The cool metal pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his hands as they roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he admitted, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Good,” you breathed, your head falling back as you clung to him. “Because you’re the only one I trust to catch me when I fall.”

His grip tightened, his gaze blazing as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Damn right I will. But don’t think this changes anything. You’re still a pain in my ass.”

You laughed, leaning forward to press a softer, lingering kiss to his lips. “And you’re still my favorite pain in mine.”

Bakugou’s lips were relentless against your skin, trailing heat down your neck as his hands gripped your thighs firmly, keeping you steady on the edge of the balcony railing. The cool night air did little to temper the fire burning between the two of you, and with every graze of his teeth, every rough kiss, the world outside the balcony seemed to fade further away.

Your hands roamed over his chest, your fingers gripping the lapels of his suit jacket as if anchoring yourself to him. His body felt solid beneath your touch, every muscle tense and coiled with barely restrained energy.

“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice breaking as his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your jaw.

He growled low in his throat at the sound of his name spilling from your lips, the vibration of it sending a shiver through you. His hands slid higher, brushing the fabric of your dress aside to squeeze your hips. The pressure of his grip made your head spin, but it was the sudden shift of his body against yours that truly sent your pulse skyrocketing.

You gasped as your thighs brushed against his hips, feeling the unmistakable hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly as you looked up at him.

Bakugou froze for a moment, his crimson eyes locking onto yours as if daring you to say something. His lips curled into a smirk—cocky, almost predatory—as he leaned in closer, his voice a low growl in your ear.

“You feel that, princess?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what you do to me.”

The roughness in his voice made your stomach flip, your hands tightening their grip on his jacket as your thighs instinctively pressed together. But he wasn’t about to let you retreat. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him so you could feel every inch of his arousal pressing against you.

“Shit,” you breathed, your cheeks flushing as a wave of heat pooled low in your belly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. “That’s what I thought. You’ve been teasing me all night, haven’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as he pressed his hips against you again, his movements deliberate and slow. The friction was maddening, and the smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, though your voice came out shakier than you intended.

Bakugou chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to grip the backs of your thighs. “Flatter myself? Tch, you’re the one squirming.”

“I’m not—” you started, but your words cut off in a gasp as he rolled his hips against yours, the hardness of him pressing perfectly between your legs.

“Not what? Huh?” he taunted, his tone rough and teasing as his lips found yours again, cutting off whatever weak protest you were about to make.

The kiss was dizzying, his tongue sliding against yours with a mix of dominance and desperation. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body arching into him as the heat between you became unbearable.

“Admit it,” he muttered against your lips, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You like this. You like driving me crazy.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your lips curving into a smirk of your own as you leaned in to nip at his bottom lip. “Maybe I do.”

Bakugou growled, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he pulled you even closer. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“And you love it,” you countered, your breath hitching as he pressed himself against you again, the hardness of him making you dizzy with want.

“Maybe I do,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his lips trailed down your neck.

Bakugou's lips were back on yours, searing and demanding, as his hands slid down to grip the backs of your thighs. He pulled you closer to the edge of the railing, locking you in place as his hips pressed firmly against yours. The hardness straining against his pants was impossible to ignore, especially as he shifted his hips deliberately, dragging against you in slow, maddening strokes.

“Katsuki,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the friction sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.

He didn’t respond with words—he didn’t need to. Instead, he growled low in his throat, his hands sliding to the underside of your thighs and hoisting you up higher so you were completely at his mercy. The cool night air hit your legs as the fabric of your dress bunched up around your hips, but the heat of his body pressed against you made you forget the chill.

“Fucking soaked already,” he muttered, his voice rough as his crimson eyes dropped to where your bodies met.

You flushed at his words, your breath hitching as you felt his hips press against you again, harder this time. The thin fabric of your panties did nothing to stop the steady, delicious pressure of him rubbing against you, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper threatening to escape.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance as he rocked his hips against yours, slow and deliberate. The hardness of him pressed perfectly against your damp center, and the friction had your head spinning.

You clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his suit jacket as your body moved instinctively to meet his. “Shut up,” you whispered, though the way your thighs tightened around him betrayed you.

Bakugou smirked, leaning in to nip at your ear. “Don’t tell me to shut up when you’re grinding on me like this,” he growled, his voice rough and teasing as he thrust against you again, dragging a gasp from your lips.

The movement sent a wave of pleasure through you, the friction just enough to make you ache for more. Your panties were soaked, clinging to your skin as he continued to press against you, his pace growing rougher, more desperate.

“Katsuki,” you whimpered, your head falling back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“Say my name like that again,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.

You obliged, your voice breaking on his name as he ground his hips against yours, the rhythm almost punishing now. Every movement sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching into his as the heat pooled low in your belly.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he admitted, his grip on your thighs tightening as he held you steady, his movements growing more erratic.

“You’re the one who started it,” you shot back, though your voice was shaky, barely a whisper as your nails raked down his back.

Bakugou chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your neck as he thrust against you again, harder this time. “Yeah, but you’re the one who’s gonna finish it.”

The tension between you was unbearable, the heat and friction building to a crescendo as his movements grew rougher, more desperate. You could feel every inch of him through his pants, the hard length of him dragging perfectly against your damp panties, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body trembling as you stared up at him. “I—”

“Say it,” he growled, his hips pressing firmly against yours, dragging another gasp from your lips.

“I want it,” you finally whispered, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out.

Bakugou’s eyes darkened, a triumphant smirk curling across his lips as he leaned in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. “Good,” he muttered against your lips, his movements growing even rougher as he ground against you with enough force to make your legs shake.

The world around you disappeared entirely, leaving only the two of you tangled in a haze of heat and desire, the line between duty and desire long since obliterated.

Bakugou’s movements stilled for a moment, and you felt him pull back just slightly, his forehead pressed against yours. His breath was hot and ragged as his hands slid down to grip your thighs again, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edge of your panties.

“You’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he glanced down at where your bodies were pressed together.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his fingers hooked around the damp fabric of your panties, tugging it to the side with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse race.

“Katsuki—” you started, but your words dissolved into a sharp gasp as his fingers brushed against your bare skin, grazing your slick folds.

“Shut up,” he growled, his eyes dark with hunger as he leaned in to capture your lips in another bruising kiss.

His free hand moved to his belt, and the sound of the buckle clicking open sent a shiver down your spine. You felt the warmth of his hand as he freed himself, the hard length of him brushing against your thigh.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice dripping with arrogance as he shifted his hips, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. “Already soaked, begging for it. You really are a tease.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to steady yourself. “If I’m such a tease, then what does that make you?” you shot back, though your voice was shaky, breathless.

Bakugou smirked, his lips brushing against yours as he pushed forward just enough for you to feel the pressure of him pressing against you, not quite entering yet. “A guy who’s about to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for.”

The heat between you was unbearable, the tension snapping as he finally rolled his hips forward, pushing into you slowly, inch by inch. Your breath hitched, your head falling back as he filled you, the stretch of him making your thighs tremble.

“Fuck,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself fully inside you. “So fucking tight.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough to draw a low groan from him as you arched into him. “Katsuki,” you whimpered, your voice breaking on his name as he pulled back slightly before thrusting into you again, harder this time.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough as his movements grew more deliberate, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Katsuki,” you repeated, your voice trembling as your body moved in rhythm with his.

“That’s right,” he muttered, his lips finding your neck as he bit down gently, his teeth grazing your skin. “You’re mine tonight.”

The world around you faded away entirely, leaving only the heat of his body against yours, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling in the cool night air. Every thrust, every whispered growl of your name, pushed you closer to the edge, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his movements became more erratic, more desperate. “I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that.”

You gasped, your nails raking down his back as the pressure built inside you, your body trembling with the force of it. “I—I’m close,” you managed to whisper, your voice breaking as his thrusts grew harder, faster.

“Then come for me,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he held you steady, driving into you with a relentless pace.

It was all you needed. The tension snapped, and a wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body arching into his as you cried out his name. He wasn’t far behind, his movements growing erratic as he groaned low in his throat, his grip on you almost bruising as he found his own release.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the edge of the balcony, your breaths mingling as the cool night air wrapped around you.

“Fuck,” Bakugou muttered, his voice rough as he finally pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “You really are trouble.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him, softer this time. “And you love it.”

His lips curved into a smirk, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement—and something deeper. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “Maybe I do.”

Feel free to request <3

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

Routine V

Mini Series

Wanda Maximoff x fem wife!reader

Summary: Routines can get tiring quickly, especially when you’re the only one working towards keeping them.

A/n: We meet again friends. I am very happy to be updating this fic once more. Also happy to inform that I have found a direction in which to take it!!! I hope you enjoy reading it.

Word count: 1400 approx

She was at a crossroads, there was nothing that she could do to stop you from leaving. She hadn’t stopped pacing the room since you left. That's when she saw it… Her saving grace. Maybe if she did this one thing she could at least open the door if not maybe just unlock it, something. At this point that was definitely better than nothing. Your passport and what looked like important papers were left sitting on the kitchen counter. You had left in a furious haze, something was meant to be left behind. You just didn’t think it would be your passport and work visa. That was the one thing that you thought you had in lock, the one thing that you couldn't forget… And you forgot it. Truthfully you knew that something was missing the moment that you stepped into the car with Kate, but you chalked it up to the stress that Wanda had caused.   

There was a time that anything that remotely felt like a fight was a no go. You never wanted to fight with Wanda, nothing about arguing with her seemed pleasant. In the beginning it was obvious she was scared and all of it was new. You danced around obvious issues the two of you had. One issue was a rather big one being Vision. It was strange their connection. It was something you knew would have easily gone the other way had you not been in the picture. They understood each other; you felt like the odd man out in your own relationship with her. It wasn’t until you exploded one day that the issue was addressed. Thinking back Wanda should have seen this coming. It almost ended the relationship before it really even began. She was tempted to call you, she really was. But she’d just crossed a very big boundary. Instead she texted Kate.

Her text was read almost immediately the text bubble kept appearing but nothing was sent. Wanda instead sent another message. ‘I’ll meet you at the gate, lose Y/n for a minute and I’ll give you her passport.’ She only received a thumbs up and she was on her way. It was high time Wanda started taking action. She wasn’t going to fail you now. 

You were lying. You had no idea where you got the confidence from but it was a complete lie. You loved her so much it hurt. She didn’t read your mind that time and it hurt that she believed you. Tears welled in your eyes, this day wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to leave peacefully, and now you had no idea what you were doing. She shook you. Wanda came into your life and turned it upside down and now she’s done it again. It was rough. Kate had been fidgety for the past twenty minutes. “Are you okay?” You managed to get the words out. She stilled wide eyed. “Uhm shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You hummed. “Probably… I’m just tired of the same thing over and over again.” You sighed. “There are so many things that I wanted to say. But she was right in front of me and the words disappeared.” Kate nodded, her eyes still fixed on the road. 

“Do you think… that uhm you’ll get back together?” She asked the obvious question. It only made your shoulders deflate more. Not because she asked, “It’s not up to me.” but because of how pitiful the answer was. And it was entirely up to her. You hadn't even been able to bring yourself to draft the papers. The fear that she’d actually sign them still managed to keep you up at night. What if she did, what then? “My heart… it aches constantly. Like something was ripped from me.” Kate cleared her throat. “You’re leaving Y/n… You're going abroad for god knows how long.” You nodded. “How else can I show her what she’s doing to me? Years Kate I’ve put up with it for years.” Kate nodded. “I did not suffer in silence, I let her know at every turn how she was compromising us.” Your words were laced with anger and conviction. And so quickly the sadness gave way to raw anger.  

Wanda felt she should have thought this entire situation out more. Here she was in her car on her way to the airport, filled with hundreds if not thousands of people. And the most daunting part being that you’re unaware. Her mind was already starting to hold her hostage. She made the treck mostly on autopilot. Then there was the whole getting through security, nothing her powers couldn’t handle. Only she somehow couldn’t. She had not felt this lack of control since ultron, she was tripping where she had learned repeatedly not to. It was overwhelming navigating through the masses of people trying to get to their flights, homes, families. Everyone's thoughts traversed constantly. Eventually and not without struggle she had found Kate, near a coffee shop.

“Finally! I thought you’d make this hard for me.” Kate’s words washed right through her. The only thing she could hear now was an angry ring, mocking her. She shook her head softly trying to dissipate the sound. Then she stilled, she could sense it. Her powers out of pure reflex sought you out. And another pang of sadness ran through her. She’d never been able to sense your anger. A slap in the face a testament as to how unwelcome she truly was. A tug at her arm brought her back. She was clutching your passport in her hand. The folder already in Kate’s possession. Kate sighed. “Are you okay?” She relented and finally asked the question. That seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in. She let go of the Passaport like it burned her. Kate noticed her distress and asked again. “My powers… are acting up, I'll be fine.” Kate nodded, not fully convinced. 

Kate had decided she’d throw Wanda a life line. She did not think someone could make a change so drastically in a matter of hours. This Wanda that was standing in front of her was not the same one she witnessed yell indignantly at you. This Wanda looked defeated, vulnerable. “She’s still waiting for you…” Kate said. Taking the woman in, and for a moment she wasn’t sure Wanda had heard her. Then tears started rolling down her face. “I don’t think she is…” the words came out tersely and clipped. “She's angry, she has every right to be. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s waiting… so give her time.” Kate sighed, taking a step back. “Fight for her…” She turned on her heel and walked away. Wanda seconds later managed to do the same. Her resolve slowly cemented.

Kate made her way back just as you started looking for her. She looks slightly flushed. Two coffees in hand, a folder tucked in between her arm and torso. Your eyes widened at the sight. “I didn’t even realize I was missing that!” You exclaimed. Taking a cup out of her hand, and the folder at the same time. “Kate, you're a lifesaver.” She nodded, taking a long sip of her drink. Then silence followed, you could have sworn you felt something. It made your heart race. You remembered the familiar feeling. A slight fuzz just out of reach in your mind. You couldn’t help but look around. Could it be, or was it just her lingering in your mind. Then once again Kate brought you back into the present. “Here your boarding group is about to be called.” Kate pulled you up from your seat making toward the line now forming.

Right as your ticket was scanned. She pulled you to the side slightly. “Promise you’re coming back.” You managed a small smile. “I will, I don’t think your mother will keep me away forever.” You joked. Keeping an eye on the people boarding. Kate nodded trying to reassure herself. “You forgot your passport… she brought them here. That's why I was gone for a minute.” Your heart started racing. “I didn’t want to keep it from you.” Then before you could even respond an airline worker was ushering through into the boarding tunnel. The last thing Kate managed to say was for you to call her when you landed. 

A/n: Please leave a like if you liked it!!! Late because I completely forgot to schedule. :(

Tag list: @fxckmiup @username23345 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

[00valentina-writes00]

Ur take on long distance relationship

(Ellie Williams x Reader)

something soft and sweet!!

Them doing little virtual dates,making each other playlist, playing video games, making funny google slide presentations,then sending each other love letters

But if you wanted to do something with angst and smut.

Ellie or reader has been experiencing major jealousy issues,and because of this they have been distant and annoyed with the other, leading their FaceTime call into an argument over said jealousy issues, and it ending with angsty phone sex.

Gang- the phone sex is just staring at me I’m gonna do it

✞⛧ Ellie with a long distant relationship ✞⛧

(College au ellie btw-)

✞⛧ You and Ellie have a standing virtual date every Friday night. She sets aside time to play video games with you, even though she’s usually buried in textbooks or guitar practice. When she wins, she gloats with a smug “I told you I was better,” but when you win, she makes an exaggerated pouty face and jokes that she let you win.

✞⛧ One of your favorite things is when Ellie sends you surprise playlists. You’ll get a random text from her saying, “Put on this playlist and think of me,” followed by a mix of grunge, indie, and punk that totally fits her chaotic energy. It makes you feel closer to her, even if you’re on opposite sides of the country.

✞⛧ She’s terrible at singing, but she still sends you voice memos of her trying to learn a new song. It’s hilariously off-key, but you can’t help but love how genuine and unbothered she is.

✞⛧ Sometimes, Ellie will FaceTime you with her guitar, strumming along to one of your favorite songs, hoping you’ll sing along. You’ll both end up laughing through the chorus because neither of you can hold a note, but the moment is so sweet, you don’t even care.

✞⛧ Late-night Google slides sessions become your ritual. You both work on silly slideshows, like “The Best Ways to Distract Ellie During Finals Week” or “Top 10 Ways I Would Survive In A Zombie Apocalypse (With Ellie).” Ellie takes it seriously, adding in ridiculous survival tips like “bring snacks” and “find a good Wi-Fi spot.”

✞⛧ Ellie loves sending you random memes, even when they’re not really funny to anyone but the two of you. She’ll say, “I thought you’d appreciate this one” and then give you an in-depth explanation about why it’s funny.

✞⛧ When you both miss each other, Ellie writes little handwritten notes and takes pictures of them to send. They’re simple: “I can’t wait to see you one day,” or “Just thinking about you while I pretend to study.” It’s not much, but it means everything.

✞⛧ When Ellie’s feeling down, she’ll send you one of her old mixtapes she made in high school. It’s a weird mix of angry punk and sappy love songs that she claims “speaks to her soul.” You listen to it and text her back that it’s perfect.

✞⛧ Ellie doesn’t mind being vulnerable with you. She’ll text you long rants about how stressed she is with school and her side hustle, and you’re always there to remind her that she’s doing the best she can.

✞⛧ When she’s really missing you, Ellie takes a picture of her bed with your favorite hoodie on it and texts it to you with a simple message: “Wish you were here.”

✞⛧ Sometimes, you send Ellie a video of you singing along to one of her favorite songs, and she can’t help but tease you about it. “I didn’t know you had that in you,” she’ll say, but you can tell from the way she keeps replaying it that she loves it.

✞⛧ On special occasions, like birthdays or anniversaries, Ellie sends you care packages full of your favorite snacks, a mixtape, and a handwritten letter. She makes it clear that she might not be able to be there in person, but she’s thinking of you constantly.

✞⛧ Ellie can never leave you on “read” for too long. You’ll get a text from her within minutes no matter how busy she is, usually something snarky or sarcastic, but it always shows she’s thinking about you.

✞⛧ You both have inside jokes that only make sense to the two of you. Ellie has this one where she’ll send you a random picture of a cat and caption it with something like “this is the only thing keeping me sane right now,” and you’ll both crack up because it makes zero sense, but it’s hilarious anyway.

✞⛧ You love sending Ellie playlists, too, but you make sure they’re different from hers. You’ll send her one full of songs she’s never heard before, just to get her reaction when she listens to it. It’s always the same: “This is weird… but I love it.”

✞⛧ Every now and then, you’ll both spend an hour just texting each other about your dream life together. You’ll talk about the little things, like where you’d go on your first real vacation or what you’d eat for breakfast when you’re finally living in the same city.

✞⛧ When things get tough, Ellie likes to tell you stories about the worst day she’s ever had in college. It’s mostly funny and full of chaos, but you can hear the tiredness in her voice. You always remind her that it’s okay to feel worn out and that she’s still doing amazing.

✞⛧ She’s not the type to send “I love you” too often, but you always know when it’s coming. It’s in the little things, like when she texts, “I miss you, you dork,” or signs off with “talk to you soon, babe.”

✞⛧ Ellie sometimes sends you little sketches of things she’s working on. Whether it’s a half-finished drawing of a band logo or a quick sketch of the dorm room she’s stuck in, it’s something she’s proud of, and she wants to share it with you

✞⛧ She’ll randomly drop voice memos on you just to say something random. “I just saw a dog that looked exactly like you, and it made me think of you,” or “I wish you were here so I could steal your snacks.” It’s always a little weird, but in a way that only makes you smile.

✞⛧ When you both start to feel disconnected, you make a point to schedule a “real” date. You’ll set up a Zoom call, order food to eat at the same time, and just talk about anything and everything like you’re sitting across from each other at your favorite diner.

✞⛧ She’s a huge fan of sending surprise memes to keep you entertained. The more ridiculous, the better. You both end up spamming each other with stupid, unexplainable memes, and it’s the best part of your day.

✞⛧ The moment Ellie knows she’ll see you again, she starts planning. She’ll text you things like “I’m saving all my good snacks for when you get here,” or “I’m picking the worst movie to show you, I hope you’re ready.” She can’t wait to have you near her again.

✞⛧ Ellie sometimes just calls you to hear your voice, even if there’s no big conversation. You’ll talk for hours about nothing in particular, but the sound of her voice makes you feel safe, even when she’s halfway across the country.

✞⛧ You’re both masters of making the other feel special from afar. Ellie will text you little “good morning” messages even when she’s still half asleep, and you’ll send her little updates about your day that you know will make her laugh.

✞⛧ Ellie finds comfort in the small things, like knowing that you’re there to listen when she needs to vent or that you’ll never judge her for being a little messy.

Dun dun dunnn (knew you dirty animals would be looking for the smut, and I have provided)

The screen flickers slightly, the connection unstable, but Ellie’s face is crystal clear. Her sharp green eyes are narrowed, her freckled cheeks flushed with frustration, and that ever-present smirk of hers is nowhere to be seen. Instead, her lips are pressed into a thin line, her jaw tight. You can practically hear the tension crackling through the air, even through the distance separating you.

“You’re avoiding the question,” she says, her voice low and edged with accusation. Her fingers tap impatiently against the edge of her desk, the sound muffled but insistent. “What’s going on, huh? You’ve been so distant lately. I feel like I’m talking to a ghost.”

You cross your arms, leaning back in your chair. The dorm room around her is a mess—guitar picks scattered on the floor, a half-eaten bag of chips on her bed, and the faint glow of string lights illuminating her chaotic space. But you’re not focused on that. You’re focused on the way she’s looking at you, like she’s already decided you’re guilty of something.

“Distant? Seriously, Ellie?” you shoot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “Maybe I’m just busy. Not everyone’s got time to hang out at skate parks or sell weed to freshmen, you know.”

Her eyes flash, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to snap back. But then she exhales sharply, running a hand through her messy brown hair. It’s a gesture she only makes when she’s really trying to keep her cool.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says, her voice quieter now but still laced with frustration. “I just… I feel like you’re pulling away. Like there’s something you’re not telling me. And I can’t help but wonder if—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip.

“If what?” You lean forward, your heart pounding in your chest. “If I’m cheating on you? Is that what you’re thinking?”

Ellie flinches, her sharp features softening for just a moment before she hardens again. “Well, are you? Because I’m not gonna lie, it’s been on my mind. You’ve been so… off. And it’s not just me. Even your friends are saying you’ve been acting weird.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, that’s rich. Coming from you. The girl who spends half her life ‘delivering product’ to random people. How do I know you’re not the one sneaking around?”

Her eyes widen, and for a second, she looks genuinely hurt. But then that smirk of hers returns, though it’s darker now, more defensive. “Oh, so that’s how it is? You’re gonna turn this around on me? Fine. Let’s do this. You wanna know if I’m cheating? Here.”

Before you can even process what’s happening, she’s standing up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She reaches for the hem of her hoodie, pulling it off in one swift motion. Her vintage band tee follows, revealing her wiry, athletic frame. Her skin is pale and freckled, the fern tattoo on her forearm standing out starkly against her flesh.

Your breath catches in your throat as she undoes the button of her jeans, sliding them down her legs with a practiced ease. She kicks them aside, standing there in just her boxers and a black sports bra. Her sharp green eyes lock onto yours through the screen, challenging you.

“Go ahead,” she says, her voice steady but tinged with defiance. “Look. No scratches. No hickeys. Nothing. You wanna know where I’ve been? Here. Dealing with your bullshit.”

Your heart is racing now, your mouth dry. But then something in you snaps, something defensive and raw. “Oh, sure. Like you’re the only one who’s allowed to be jealous. You think I haven’t noticed how secretive you’ve been? How you’re always ‘busy’ when I call? Fine. You wanna see? Here.”

You stand up, your chair nearly tipping over in your haste. Your fingers fumble with the buttons of your shirt, but you manage to pull it off, tossing it to the floor. You can feel Ellie’s eyes on you, watching every move. Your jeans come next, sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You’re standing there in just your bra and underwear, your chest rising and falling with every breath.

“Happy now?” you ask, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and vulnerability. “No scratches. No hickeys. Just me. But maybe you should be asking yourself why you’re so quick to accuse me when you’re the one who’s always hiding something.”

Ellie’s smirk falters, and for a moment, she looks almost… guilty. She crosses her arms over her chest, her bare skin glowing in the dim light of her dorm room. “I’m not hiding anything,” she says, but her voice lacks its usual confidence. “I just… I worry, okay? You’re my girl. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

The vulnerability in her voice catches you off guard, and suddenly, the anger that’s been simmering between you both feels like it’s starting to dissolve. You sit back down, your legs feeling shaky beneath you.

“Ellie…” you start, but she’s already shaking her head.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice soft now. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to hurt you. I just… I needed to know. And I didn’t know how else to ask.”

You let out a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry too,” you admit. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was pulling away. I just… I’ve been stressed. With school, with work… and yeah, maybe I’ve been a little paranoid. But not because I don’t trust you. Because I… I don’t know. I guess I just needed to hear you say it.”

Ellie’s expression softens, and for the first time since this whole argument started, she looks at you without that guarded edge in her eyes. “Say what?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That you’re mine,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “That no matter what, you’re mine.”

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. Then, slowly, she reaches for the waistband of her boxers, sliding them down her legs. Her sports bra follows, leaving her completely bare. Her skin is smooth, her body wiry and toned, the fern tattoo on her arm seeming to almost dance in the dim light.

“I’m yours,” she says, her voice steady but tinged with something deeper, something raw. “Always.”

Your heart is pounding now, your body responding to her in ways you can’t ignore. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you reach for your own bra, slipping it off and letting it fall to the floor. Your panties follow, leaving you completely exposed to her gaze.

“I’m yours too,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Always.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence between you, the tension palpable even through the screen. Then, slowly, Ellie reaches down, her fingers brushing against the soft skin of her inner thigh. Her sharp green eyes never leave yours as she spreads her legs slightly, her fingers moving lower, tracing the delicate folds of her pussy.

Your breath catches in your throat, your own hand instinctively moving between your legs. You can feel the wetness there, the ache that’s been building inside you. Ellie’s fingers slip inside her, her sharp intake of breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Touch yourself,” she says, her voice low and husky. “Let me see you.”

Your fingers move of their own accord, slipping inside you as you watch her do the same. Her movements are slow, deliberate, her eyes never leaving yours. You can hear the soft, breathy moans escaping her lips, the way her body trembles with every touch.

“Ellie…” you moan her name, your fingers moving faster now, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room. Her lips part, a soft gasp escaping them as she watches you, her own fingers moving in rhythm with yours.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need. “I miss you. I miss touching you. I miss feeling you.”

“I miss you too,” you whimper, your body trembling as the pleasure builds inside you. “So much.”

Her fingers move faster now, her soft, whimpery moans filling your ears. You can see the way her body tenses, the way her hips lift off the bed as she gets closer to the edge. Your own fingers move faster, the slick wetness between your thighs a testament to how much you need her.

“Come for me,” she whispers, her voice raw and desperate. “I wanna see you come.”

Your body obeys her without hesitation, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. You cry out her name, your fingers still moving inside you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Ellie’s own orgasm follows moments later, her body trembling as she falls back against the bed, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence between you, the only sound the soft hum of the computer fan and the sound of your own breathing. Then, slowly, Ellie reaches for the screen, her fingers brushing against the image of your face.

“I love you,” she whispers, her voice soft and tender. “More than anything.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, your heart aching with the need to be close to her. “Always.”

[lvrgurlblobbu]

a date it is!

college!zayne x fem!reader

⤿ CW: pure fluff!

⤿ word count: 3.3k

⤿ second part of code love series | previous part

ao3.

You barely had any sleep last night, it’s not that you spent the whole night talking to Zayne. He made sure that the both of you gets plenty amount of rest. So when the clock struck at 10:00 pm, he bid his goodnight to you. You also bid yours as well but you’re awake until 1:00 in the morning.

You’re not sure why sleep wouldn’t come. Maybe it was the lingering warmth of the conversation, the way Zayne’s voice still echoed in your mind, or maybe it was just one of those nights where rest felt impossible. You tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of the night outside your window.

Even after saying goodnight, your thoughts refused to quiet down. It was comforting, but at the same time, it made you feel a little restless.

When sleep finally pulled you under, it was shallow and fleeting. By the time morning arrived, you felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. Your body ached for more rest, but your mind was already wide awake.

Your phone buzzes beside you. Squinting against the brightness of the screen, you see a message from Zayne.

Zayne: Morning. Did you sleep well?

You immediately sat up which made your head throb a bit. You bit your lip as you hovered you thumb at your phone to type a reply.

You: Good Morning! Yes I did : )

Even though you know damn well you didn’t, then after a few seconds your phone received another message from him.

Zayne: That’s good. I shall get going now, I’ll see you later around campus, take care.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you typed your reply. As you hit the “send” button, you threw your phone at your bed and screamed at your pillow as you kicked your feet.

Then as you began to calm down, your heart races so fast as you stared at the ceiling. Well, today is going to be a good one because of two main reasons: one is that Zayne greeted you good morning and he wished you well, second is that you’re looking forward to meet him again.

“How’s it going?” Simone nudged your shoulder as the three of you make your way towards your classroom.

“Well, we talked last night.” You replied, biting your lip to suppress your smile and clutched tighter on the books you’re holding. Tara seemed to notice and she began to tease you.

“Oh?” Tara smirked, leaning in closer. “And by talked, do you mean actual words, or was it just you giggling at your phone like a lovesick fool?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. “It was just a normal conversation,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Simone chuckled, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Sure, sure. And let me guess—after he told you to sleep, you stayed up thinking about him, didn’t you?”

Your lips parted in protest, but the way both of them were staring at you—knowing, amused—made it clear there was no point in denying it. Instead, you let out a dramatic sigh. “You guys are impossible.”

Tara giggled. “We’re impossible? Please. You’re the one walking around like a main character in a romance novel.”

You groaned, shaking your head as you pushed open the door to your classroom. “Can we talk about something else?”

Simone and Tara shared a glance before grinning. “No promises,” they said in unison.

You huffed, but despite your complaints, you couldn’t stop the small smile from forming on your lips. Because, if you were being honest, you didn’t really mind.

It’s 4 o’clock, and your classes are now finished. Now, you’ve already tidied your desks and placed your things inside your bag. You sat on your desk as you fished your phone from your pocket, checking if there are notifications — specifically from a certain someone.

You also unwrapped a lollipop and popped it in your mouth as you scrolled through your phone. Then, someone called you.

“(Name)! Someone’s looking for you?” Your classmate called, then you met Tara and Simone’s gaze, both of them looking teasingly at you. You rolled your eyes as you slung your bag on your shoulder before walking towards them.

“I gotta go.” You told them, but they both got up from their seats and grabbed your arm on each side.

“We’re walking with you until you reach the classroom door.” Tara giggled, then Simone added “You should formally introduce us.”

You shook your head as you giggled at the two of them, so you made your way outside. There you saw Zayne, leaning at the wall typing something on his phone. When he seemed to notice your presence, he immediately looked up from his phone, placed it inside his pocket before offering you a light smile.

“Hey,” he said as he approached you, Tara and Simone were trying their best to contain their giggles as Zayne approached.

“Hello.” You replied as you looked at him, “Oh by the way, these are my friends and I guess you already met them yesterday.” You formally introduced Tara and Simone to Zayne.

“Oh yes I did, I actually saw them at the lounge yesterday and they introduced themselves as your friends. Though I wondered where you are and they told me you got home early.” He said as you nodded slightly, his gaze began to flicker at Tara and Simone who’s currently tightening their grip on your arms.

“Shall we go?” you offered, Tara and Simone immediately let go of your arms and pushed you slightly at Zayne. He immediately caught you, his hands steadying you as you stumbled slightly against him. His grip was firm yet gentle, his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your sleeves.

“You alright?” Zayne asked, his voice softer this time as you looked up at him. His hazel-green eyes searched yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them.

“Yes, I’m alright,” you replied, offering a small smile before turning to shoot a sharp glare at Tara and Simone. They only grinned, clearly enjoying themselves.

Zayne chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “Let’s go?” he asked, tilting his head toward the path ahead.

You let out a small sigh before smiling at him. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As the two of you began walking, Tara and Simone’s voices rang out behind you.

“Take care of her!” Tara called.

“Make sure she gets home safe!” Simone added with a teasing lilt in her voice.

You groaned, spinning around to glare at them one last time, but they only giggled, waving you off.

Zayne glanced back at them before turning to you, his smirk softening just a little. “I will,” he assured them before leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “Not that I needed the reminder.”

A sudden warmth spread through your chest at his words, but you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Good,” you muttered, quickening your pace to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

Zayne easily caught up, his smirk still lingering. “I think your friends really like me,” he teased.

You scoffed. “More like they enjoy embarrassing me.”

He chuckled, hands in his pockets as he walked beside you. “Well, I don’t mind. Gives me an excuse to stick around.”

You glanced at him, meeting his gaze once more. This time, there was no teasing—just something softer, something almost genuine.

And for some reason, you didn’t mind that either.

You went to the same cafeteria, the barista immediately greeted the both of you as you entered. Zayne led you towards your spot, pulled out a chair for you before sitting infront of you.

Then, a waitress approached the both of you. “Good afternoon! What can I get for you today?” She smiled at the both of you.

“I’ll have the chocolate lava cake, a slice of cheesecake and a couple of macarons as well.” He ordered as he gave the menu back at the waitress, “Oh and a cup of cappuccino.”

“That is noted sir, and what about you miss?”

“Well uh, I think I’ll have the pesto alfredo, a side of fries and an iced mocha.” nd an iced mocha,” you said, glancing at the menu one last time before looking back at the waitress with a smile. “That should be all for now, thank you.”

The waitress nodded, writing everything down with a friendly smile. “Got it! I’ll bring your orders right out!” She turned and walked away, leaving the two of you to settle into the comfortable silence.

“So, an informant told me that you were looking for me yesterday.” Zayne mentioned which made your face warmer as you felt yourself blushing.

“Who told you?” You asked, trying your best not to stutter. A small chuckle left his lips as he answered you.

“It’s from Greyson, told me that someone came looking for me yesterday but he didn’t mention any names. Then when I saw your friends at the lounge and approached me, that’s when I had a hunch that it was you.” He took a sip of his water, before looking back at you.

“I don’t know a single thing about you, so we thought that the best course of action was to look for you yesterday.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” he extended his hand towards you, his expression soft yet confident. “Zayne Li, sophomore. BS Biology, Major in Medical Biology.” A small smile played on his lips, one that sent an unexpected flutter through your chest.

You took his hand, the coolness of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “(Name), freshman. Journalism major.”

His grip was firm but gentle, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Ms. (Name),” he said, his voice smooth and undeniably warm.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you replied, holding his gaze a second longer than necessary.

Soon enough, your orders arrived, and as you both settled in to eat, the conversation between you and Zayne naturally deepened. Between bites of food and sips of your drinks, you took the opportunity to learn more about each other—your interests, your goals, and the little things that made you both who you were.

Laughter slipped easily into the conversation, and with every shared story, the initial awkwardness faded, replaced by a growing sense of familiarity. It was as if, for this moment, the world outside didn’t matter—just the two of you, the warmth of good food, and the quiet excitement of newfound connection.

"A what?!" you tried to hold back your laughter as you questioned him once more. You finished your date at the cafe almost an hour ago. Now, Zayne offered to stroll around the park nearby, but the mention of his monkey adoption had completely thrown you off.

He gave you an exaggerated look, clearly enjoying the reaction. “I said my parents adopted a monkey, okay?” He chuckled for a bit.

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Zayne… you’re serious?”

He let out a small giggle upon hearing your amused reaction, clearly loving how hard you were trying to process what he was saying. “Yeah, I’m serious. His name’s Sweet Potato.”

You blinked. “Wait, hold on. Sweet Potato?” You burst into laughter before you could stop yourself. “You’re telling me your family adopted a monkey named Sweet Potato? And that’s his name?”

He nodded, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yep. Sweet Potato. And before you ask, yes, it's a he.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “My mom picked the name. Don’t ask me why.”

You were struggling to contain your giggles. “This has got to be the most random thing I’ve ever heard. How does one go about adopting a monkey, especially one with a name like that?”

Zayne shrugged casually, still grinning. “Well, they were looking to adopt through a rescue group, and Sweet Potato was just the one who clicked.”

You were practically doubled over now, laughing so hard it was starting to hurt, and sooner later he began to join your laughter as well. The two of you stood there in the park, barely able to catch your breath, as you tried to picture a tiny monkey running around with a name like Sweet Potato.

“Okay, okay,” you gasped between laughs, wiping a tear from your eye. “We need to breathe and calm down.”

Zayne, still grinning, leaned back against a tree, his hand brushing through his hair as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were warm, the kind of warm that made you feel like the world had just slowed down around the two of you.

You both stood there for a moment, the sound of your laughter slowly fading into the peaceful quiet of the park. The sky was a soft shade of purple, the air cool but not too chilly. There was something simple, easy, and perfect about this moment, and you couldn't help but feel a little lighter, as if the world outside of this park didn’t matter for a while.

Zayne shifted slightly and looked over at you, his expression softening as his smile turned just a little shy. “You know, I really like this. Just… hanging out with you like this.”

Your heart fluttered at the way his words lingered, his eyes meeting yours with an openness that made everything else seem distant. You smiled back, not sure what to say for a second, but then the words just slipped out, quiet and sincere. “I like it too. This… feels nice.”

Then, Zayne’s gaze shifted at the bench nearby, “Let’s have a seat?” he suggested as he offered his hand. You nodded gently before placing your hand above his as you let him lead your way towards the bench.

When you reached it, Zayne let go of your hand just briefly, but his smile lingered. You both settled down, the air around you still and calm. The faint rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds were the only sounds, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly still. You could feel the space between you, but it wasn’t awkward—just peaceful.

Then, after a while a soft meowing broke the silence between the both of you. You both looked at each other with eyes wide open, then you began searching.

“Found it.” Zayne said as he picked up the tiny kitten. You gently grabbed the kitten from his grasp and gently placed the kitten on your lap.

“Hey there little one…” you cooed as you gently petted the kitten, “It’s okay, you’re safe..” you whispered as your hand made contact with its shivering form.

The kitten let out a tiny, pitiful meow, curling into the warmth of your lap. Its fur was damp and matted, its small body trembling from either fear or the cold. You exchanged a glance with Zayne, concern evident in his eyes.

“I’ll take her home..” you mumbled as you wrapped a handkerchief around the kitten.

“Do you wish to go right now?” Zayne asked and you nodded at him, “Alright, give me your bag and I’ll walk you home.”

You carefully adjusted the kitten in your arms, making sure it was snug in the makeshift blanket. Its tiny body still trembled, but as you held it close, its shivers began to ease ever so slightly.

“Thank you, Zayne,” you murmured, handing him your bag.

He slung it over his shoulder without hesitation. “No problem,” he said, offering you a small smile before turning serious again. “Let’s get going before it gets colder.”

The two of you walked side by side through the quiet streets, the distant hum of the city blending with the soft rustling of the trees. The kitten let out another faint meow, pressing further into your warmth. You gently stroked its head, whispering soothing words.

Zayne glanced at you. “Think you’ll keep her?”

You hesitated, looking down at the tiny life cradled in your arms. “I don’t know… But I’ll make sure she’s safe, no matter what.”

Zayne nodded in approval. “Just let me know if you need help with anything, I know a few vet because of my parents being doctors.”

A warm feeling settled in your chest. No matter what, you’d make sure this kitten never had to feel alone again.

Your walk with Zayne was quiet but it’s calming and peaceful. He made sure to assist you as he placed his hand on your lower back, with your consent of course.

The warmth of his hand was gentle yet reassuring, a silent promise that he was there if you needed him. You glanced up at him briefly, catching the soft expression on his face as he focused on the path ahead.

“Thank you, Zayne,” you murmured, feeling a little shy but grateful nonetheless.

He gave you a small, lopsided smile. “Of course. Just want to make sure you and the little one get home safe.”

You looked down at the kitten, its tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. It seemed more at ease now, its earlier trembling having lessened with the warmth of your embrace.

The night air was crisp but not too cold, and the soft glow of the streetlights cast a golden hue over the quiet neighborhood. There was something comforting about walking like this—side by side, in peaceful silence, with the occasional glance exchanged between you and Zayne.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of your house. Zayne shifted your bag on his shoulder before turning to you. “You got everything?”

You nodded, adjusting the kitten carefully. “Yeah, I think so.”

“If you need anything, just text me,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm.

You met his gaze and smiled. “I will. Thank you, Zayne.”

Zayne shifted slightly as he met your gaze, “I really enjoyed hanging out with you today, more than I expected, honestly.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he spoke, “I did too, it was honestly nice getting to know you more.”

Zayne smiled at you, his eyes filled with a warmth that sent a gentle flutter through your chest. “Well,” he started, shifting slightly as if gathering his thoughts, “I guess we should do this again sometime?” His tone was light, almost teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity beneath it.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words. The thought of spending more time with him, of sharing more moments like this, made warmth bloom inside you. A soft smile formed on your lips as you met his gaze.

“Of course,” you said, your voice gentle but certain. “I’d love that.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the night air cool but comfortable, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a golden hue over his features. He seemed to take in your response, his smile growing a little wider, a little more genuine.

“Good,” he said, almost as if he’d been hoping for that answer. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You chuckled softly, hugging the tiny kitten closer to your chest as it let out a sleepy sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Zayne’s expression softened, and for a brief second, it felt like neither of you wanted to end the moment. But finally, he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he took a small step back.

“Alright,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “Get some rest. And let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” you promised.

He gave you one last lingering smile before turning to leave, his footsteps quiet against the pavement. You watched him disappear down the street, a warm feeling settling in your chest.

That’s when you knew deep down that maybe bumping into him at the cafeteria might not have been random at all. It felt like the start of something… something that you were starting to look forward to.

dividers by: @enchanthings

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

[Taken from under the cut]

"The localization definitely did change some things about the portrayal of Angie’s religion, but I would hesitate to say that they changed the overall feel or messages of Chapter 3. The original was already pretty… well, I don’t know if “atheistic” is the best term for it, but the point of Chapter 3 in the original was definitely to have a kind of clash between western and eastern religion that reached a boiling point. I don’t think any of the general negativity associated with Angie and her cult, or Korekiyo and his séances, was impacted by NISA so much as it was already there in Kodaka’s writing.

As far as I could tell when playing the localization, in fact, Korekiyo’s translator didn’t change or alter much about his dialogue. Other than the “Kiyo” nickname, I agreed with most of the choices they made (translating “Kagoinu Village” and the “Kagonoko Ritual” as the “Caged Dog Village” and “Caged Child Ritual” respectively were really good choices or a localization, in fact, since they made them easier to understand). All of the reveals that happen in the post-trial (as in, those reveals, about his sister) were adapted pretty straightforwardly from the original. Nothing was cut or altered significantly; his motives really were that messed-up.

As for Angie, the term “brainwashing” actually is a direct translation and not something altered or swayed by the localization! The term 洗脳 (“sennou”) comes up as early as Chapter 2 in both the original and the localization. I believe the first instance of it is in an optional dialogue session with Himiko on the night of Saihara’s first training session, where she mentions that she should’ve “had [Angie] undo her brainwashing sooner.” The following morning, when discussing Himiko’s magical show, Angie is pretty quick to change the subject and avoids answering any questions when she’s asked by the rest of the group what she did to Himiko.

What’s more, there seems to be a very intentional correlation between Angie’s talent and Mitarai’s. While not entirely the same, the two bear definite similarities which come to light especially if you do Angie’s FTEs. In her third FTE with Saihara (her 5th overall if you did Kaede’s), she shows Saihara a picture she was painting, only for him to lose consciousness immediately upon looking at it. When he wakes up again and asks her if there’s anything intrinsically special about the painting itself, she says she’s not sure, and that she just “creates her art exactly the way god tells her to.”

It’s pretty heavily implied (more like confirmed, in her FTEs at least) that her artwork is how she gets people to listen to her and do what she asks, both on her home island and within the religious student council she sets up. There definitely seems to be a much larger degree of free will involved with her abilities than there was with Mitarai’s, the game is pretty emphatic about the fact that she does brainwash people to go along with her ideas. The effectiveness of her brainwashing is up for debate, though; Saihara remains pretty unaffected in his FTEs with her despite her best attempts to force him to marry her, Tenko was only pretending to join the student council in order to keep an eye on Himiko, and I highly doubt Tsumugi was ever actually brainwashed because of, well, reasons.

Overall, the general feeling with Angie (in the narrative at least) seems to be that she was someone whose intentions weren’t necessarily bad, but that she still did some pretty unsavory stuff nonetheless. It’s pretty clear that she does, in fact, want the killing game to end—she’s one of the most outspoken characters of the opinion that “greed” and “desire” only lead people to commit murder, and that they’d all be better off staying within the school and making it comfortable for themselves, rather than continuing to try and escape the school.

Unlike other characters who have brought up similar plans before, like Celes, I think Angie did genuinely believe what she was saying, too. There’s an optional dialogue moment in Chapter 4 if you click on the door to Angie’s lab while exploring around the school, where Saihara pretty much outright says that he couldn’t agree with her methods, but that he does realize that she was trying to stop the killing game in her own way, then follows up with a really nice comment about how he’ll never forget her. He has similar comments for most of his classmates following their deaths in each subsequent chapter, but I thought it was a really nice touch nonetheless.

As you point out though, if there is a fault in the localization to be found, it’s in changing Angie’s god altogether from a very general, unspecific god to “Atua.” Ever since I heard about that particular localization decisions, I couldn’t agree with it for a number of reasons, not least of all that it’s extremely disrespectful, as Atua is an actual, real deity in Polynesian mythology. Adapting a real-life deity and applying it to a character whose backstory, island, and god are all deliberately undefined (and fictional) is a very bad choice all around.

Angie already suffers from a lot of bad, racist writing tropes on Kodaka’s part in the original. It’s pretty clear that since she’s both dark-skinned and a “foreigner” (and we don’t know anything regarding whether her pre-game self is actually a foreigner or not) she was designed to be the “exotic, quirky island girl” whose religions and culture teeter between baffling and downright creepy.

The portrayal of her island’s religion and customs already isn’t positive in the original game; between “blood sacrifices,” purchasing organs and children off of the internet, and the hypersexualization of both Angie and her people (she tries to take off Saihara’s clothes in the same FTE I mentioned before, and there’s a lot of talk about the people on her island “comforting” each other sexually or “sharing the bride” at weddings), it feels like Kodaka was just one step short of calling them “un-civilized,” which is… eugh.

Taking all of that messy and unsavory writing and directly correlating it with actual Polynesian culture and mythology is such an incredibly disrespectful decision, moreso when I highly doubt that Angie’s translator for the localization is Polynesian themselves or did any actual research into the subject. There was no need to slap a name onto Angie’s god in the first place—her island and culture are still entirely undefined in-game, so why NISA felt that her religion needed to be equated with a real-life one is still beyond me.

Other than the general racism though, I don’t think a lot of the rest of Angie’s dialogue was changed. There was a brief, optional line in the bonus mode when she comes to invite you for a date where her translator decided to have her say “Alola!” (which, you know, a Pokemon region based on Hawaii isn’t even the same as the Polynesian islands, but okay), but otherwise her translation was pretty faithful to the original dialogue. I think her translator didn’t have too much of a problem capturing the feeling of her character; their main problem was simply the decision to make an unnecessary correlation between Angie’s fictional, made-up religion and all its negative aspects and with actual Polynesian religion and culture.

Overall, I think a lot more of the issue stems back to Kodaka’s own racism and flawed writing, though. I don’t think he was trying to leave a message of “religion = bad, always” in Chapter 3 so much as he was just… unaware of how it might come across to others. Religion in Japan is decidedly different from religion in the west, so it’s important to remember that Kodaka was writing from a Japanese perspective, rather than an all-around western atheistic perspective. He definitely wanted a sort of clash of ideas between Angie’s very foreign, western, cult-like religion, and Korekiyo’s research into eastern culture and spirituality, but the writing got… well, very messy along the way.

This is just my take on it all, anyway! The association with Angie’s religion and “brainwashing” was definitely there in the original game, even very early on, but I do think the localization would’ve improved overall if it hadn’t bothered trying to put a real name to any of it. Thank you for asking this question by the way—it’s always good to clear this kind of stuff up, especially since all of the “Atua” changes must make it really difficult for anyone playing the localization to know how much else was or wasn’t changed in Angie’s dialogue. I hope I could clear a few things up!"

here's a question ive had since the localization came out; did the localization do anything to enforce more of an athiestic bent and put angie and shinguji in a more negative light wrt religion and spirituality (particularly angie)? or has that always been there? the whole "brainwashing" angle felt p harsh, not to mention saying angie's god outright is Atua instead of the general "my god" that the translations seemed to have. plus akamatsu seemed very internally harsh about her god in their FTEs

The localization definitely did change some things about theportrayal of Angie’s religion, but I would hesitate to say that they changedthe overall feel or messages of Chapter 3. The original was already pretty…well, I don’t know if “atheistic” is the best term for it, but the point ofChapter 3 in the original was definitely to have a kind of clash betweenwestern and eastern religion that reached a boiling point. I don’t think any ofthe general negativity associated with Angie and her cult, or Korekiyo and his séances,was impacted by NISA so much as it was already there in Kodaka’s writing.

Keep reading

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 33

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

We were at Alexia and Olga's place this Saturday at noon. Marion, Alexia, and I had been inseparable during our studies, getting up to all sorts of mischief. She was beyond thrilled to meet little Jeanne for the first time.

"She’s beautiful, this little one! Honestly, Alexia, I never would’ve bet on you being the first one to become a mom!"

We all laughed together. Of all of us, Alexia had been the most unstable for many years.

"So, what have you been up to since you arrived? Did you go out yesterday?"  

Marion answered Alexia’s question.

"Not even! We had way too much to talk about. This morning, Lucy, the mayor, dropped by, and we went to the market with Ona..."

I locked eyes with Marion, signaling her blunder. I’d forgotten her knack for putting her foot in it.  

It’s an understatement to say Alexia was utterly stunned.

"Lucy Bronze came to your place?"

I quickly tried to salvage the situation.

"Yeah, she did! Can you believe it? She happened to be in the neighborhood and had an urgent request about cooking..."

"And she just shows up at your place like that? She doesn’t have a phone?"

"She knew my address, so she felt free to drop by..."

I was floundering. Realizing her mistake, Marion jumped in to help:

"And this afternoon, we’re going to the Pride Parade, just like old times! Come with us, Alexia!"

Alexia pouted dramatically.

"Olga’s not here this afternoon, so motherhood duties call!"

"Bring Jeanne along; she’ll get a taste of real life!" I laughed.

"Sure, at three months old! What a godmother you are!" she exclaimed, adding, "Take pictures, girls, and bring the action—just like we used to!"

To say the afternoon was festive would be an understatement. We joined a group of my friends and soaked in the sunny day with the parade, music, and a few beers. Marion was her usual wild self.  

At the end of the parade, she dragged me onto a stunning float, where we danced, sang, and laughed even more. The parade concluded in the main square amidst a packed crowd.  

Smiling, with Marion’s arm around my neck, we cheered at the crowd while grooving to the music.  

Suddenly, my gaze met piercing blue eyes. Blue and black in that precise moment. It was Lucy, standing on the steps of City Hall in the official stands. I was sure she had seen me; for how long, I couldn’t tell. I smiled at her—a smile she didn’t return as she turned her gaze away. My heart sank.

That evening, we ended up at a nightclub downtown, the atmosphere still electric from the day. Alexia managed to join us with other friends. It was a night filled with laughter, reunions, and cocktails. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Lucy.  

I grabbed my phone, replying to her morning message and trying to clear the air.

 She’s not my girlfriend; she’s a high school friend. Nothing ever happened between us. 

Her response was almost immediate.

 I really don’t care, Ona. Do what you want. 

Right in the gut, Ona. Her ego, always her ego.

 I don’t know. Your look earlier wasn’t exactly friendly... 

Her response came quickly again.

 It wasn’t necessarily about you, Ona. You’re not the center of my world. I was in a foul mood all day with the planning and security. 

I was sure she had been looking at me. Maybe it was the beer...

 Fine. I’m at Shaman now. Can I stop by if you’re at City Hall? Or anywhere else? 

 No, I don’t have time. 

At least that was clear. Disheartened, I got up and rejoined my friends on the dance floor.

---

The next morning, I woke up with a massive hangover. We had partied until 6 a.m., dancing, singing, and drinking all night—a fantastic evening full of laughter with friends.  

It was noon, and Marion was still sleeping.  

I grabbed my phone, scrolling through it, when I stumbled upon my conversation with Lucy—a nightmare unfolding before my eyes. Messages I’d sent during the night stared back at me:

 3:30 a.m.: Come onnnn, don’t be mad, I’m coming to see you :) 

 4:00 a.m.: You know, it’s okay if you don’t care about me. We can still hang out. 

 5:00 a.m.: You should coooome! We’re dancing, great vibes, you’d love my friends! 

The messages were exactly as written, complete with typos and mixed-up letters.  

I had completely forgotten sending them after Lucy’s last message before midnight. The utter shame.  

Of course, she hadn’t replied.  

When I explained the situation to Marion, who had just woken up, she burst out laughing.

"You kept shouting, ‘I’m going to City Hall!’ I had to hold you back!"

Panic surged.

"Now that you mention it, yes, it’s coming back to me! Wait, did I say anything about Lucy?"

Marion grinned.

"No, nothing like that, don’t worry! It was just City Hall. What a night!"

"You’re telling me. Though I forgot a golden rule: turn off your phone when you’re too drunk! The shame..."

"Come on, forget about it! Let’s go get brunch, Ona, to soak up all those cocktails!"

Marion left town at 5 p.m. after some final hugs. I went home, exhausted from the weekend.  

Lucy still hadn’t written back. We had planned to meet the next evening for an exhibit, 50 kilometers from the city.  

I mustered up my courage and decided to call her. She picked up.

"Yes?"

A curt  yes . I didn’t expect anything less.

"Lucy, it’s me. How are you?"

"I’m fine."

Ever so expressive.

"I wanted to apologize for last night’s messages. Really. I don’t know what came over me. I was a bit too..."

"Drunk, I imagine?"

"Yes, you imagine correctly. A bit too much!"

A silence fell, which I decided to break.

"I wanted to ask, are we still going to that exhibit tomorrow?"

"Yes, we are. I’ll pick you up at 6 p.m. at your place, okay?"

"Great, sounds good. And I wanted to..."

"I have to go, Ona. See you tomorrow."

She hung up.

[sophrosynesworld]

The Night Shift (Part 8)

“The person you are trying to reach has a voicemail that has not been set up yet. Please try again later. Goodbye.”

The automated message cuts off, leaving you staring at your phone screen. A heavy sigh escapes your lips. It’s been weeks since you woke up, but every attempt to reach Bakugo has been met with silence. Four missed calls, two unanswered texts—the message is clear. He doesn’t want to see you.

The crowd surges forward, and you move with it, carried along in a wave of shuffling feet and hurried glances. A rough cough tears through your chest, sharp enough to leave your throat burning. You try to clear it, but the effort only makes it worse.

If he did pick up, what would you even say? Hey, Bakugo. Sorry for dying? The thought twists something deep in your stomach.

You keep walking, head down, focused on the steady rhythm of your footsteps against the pavement—until you stop. Right there in the middle of the subway staircase.

Someone behind you mutters a curse, brushing past with an irritated shove. But you're not able to process it, memories claw at the edges of your mind, pushing past the dam you’ve worked so hard to build.

“How long do I have?”

Dr. Morri sits across from you, a tray of untouched cafeteria food between you both. The speed at which the hospital revoked your credentials was almost astonishing. Before the loose diagnosis, pulling 100-hour workweeks was just another Monday for you. Now, you’re “on sabbatical,” a sanitized label slapped on to keep questions at bay.

"You’re a medical mystery," he says. "You know how hard that question is to answer."

You lean in, arms crossing over the table, voice low. “What am I supposed to do? Wake up every day not knowing when I’m going to die?”

"Jesus, will you—" Morri had caught himself, exhaling sharply. "Talking like that won’t get you anywhere."

Your colleague drags a hand down his face, exhaustion settling in the lines around his eyes. You're not quite sure if he looks older than you remember or if you’re just seeing him clearly for the first time.

"You want the truth?" he sighs when you nod. "If we can’t find a cure… maybe a year."

"A year?"

"That’s on the generous side."

"Do you think they'll let me cash out on my social security early?"

"Dammit, don’t—" Morri cuts himself off, pausing for a moment. "We’re not giving up on you. We have every specialist looking into this." He leans back into his chair. "Quirk research is evolving everyday. But we need time, and you…" He exhales. "I think you need to tell someone".

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the table, nails digging into the plastic. That’s the problem, isn’t it? How do you tell people that you’re dying? That no matter how strong they think you are, no matter how much you’ve fought to survive, your own body has turned against you?

How do you tell someone like Airi?

You feel it again—the acid in your throat. Another person pushes your shoulder and it's finally enough to break your frozen state, your feet moving towards the platform and onto the correct train without having to think about it.

Your friends could never know. Your family would never find out. You made that choice—selfishly, maybe. Kento had called you out on it, tried to talk you down, but you didn’t listen.

"A year of happy memories is better than a year of them waiting."

Your eyes stay down, locked on the scuffed subway floor, refusing to let your thoughts spiral. The panicked thought slips away, shattered by the buzz of your phone in your back pocket. For a split second, your heart jumps—Katsuki.

But it’s Rina.

Hey! Wanna grab lunch this weekend?

You stare at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The simple question feels impossibly distant, like it belongs to another version of you. With a quiet sigh, you slip the phone back into your pocket, promising yourself you’ll reply later.

The subway doors slide open with a hiss, releasing a surge of passengers onto the platform. You move with them, climbing the steps until the center of the city swallows you whole—blaring horns, flashing advertisements, the ceaseless hum of bodies in motion.

Your eyes flick up on instinct, and there he is. The hero you've waited over a month to see. Or at least, his face—scowling down at you from a massive billboard, advertising Dynamight-branded protein powder. The absurdity of it pulls a scoff from your lips.

Shaking your head, you step forward, weaving through the crowd. Your gate quickens as you near The Booknook, a familiar restaurant just a few blocks away. Stepping off the sidewalk and into the alleyway, you suddenly feel something—a light tap on your shoulder.

Frowning, you glance back, half-expecting to see a old coworker. Instead, you find yourself looking up at the number one hero, clad in an evergreen and silver hero suit. He looks out so different. His boyish smile is disarmingly warm, tinged with nerves that somehow make him seem more approachable. Was he wearing a hero suit when he came into the hospital? You frown, trying to remember.

“You recover fast,” The words slip out reflexively, your professional instincts kicking in.

Izuku chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that’s almost endearing. “Only thanks to doctors like you.”

The casual acknowledgment stops you short. “You… know about that?”

He nods, his expression softening. “Yeah. They told me everything. If it weren’t for you… I wouldn’t be standing here.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. It’s rare for a hero to acknowledge you so directly—your work usually fades into the background of their larger-than-life narratives.

“Well,” you manage, brushing off the moment with a faint smile, “you got to us just in time.”

Izuku chuckles. “You shouldn’t do that.”

"Do what?" you ask, stepping deeper into the shaded alleyway, away from the relentless heat of the dusk sun. You tilt your head slightly, a silent invitation for the hero to follow.

“Brush things off like they’re nothing,” he replies following as you step forward, the muted clink of his armor echoing against the walls of the pothole-ridden alleyway. His polished boots crunch against loose gravel as his eyes lock onto yours. “Take credit for what you do. From what my friends tell me, you're a real hero. Own it.”

A flicker of warmth stirs in your chest, but you wave it off with practiced nonchalance. “Thank you, Midoriya. But, I'm on holiday now so don't inflate my ego."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," Izuku chuckles his eyes flicking left, then right, scanning the alley.

You follow his gaze, but all you see is cracked asphalt, a few scattered puddles from yesterday’s rain, and a pigeon that looks way too invested in your conversation. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the fire escapes above, cutting sharp lines of light and shadow across the walls. You’ve never thought much of it before—it’s just an alley. But the way Izuku’s locates every rustling scrap of paper and distant clatter makes you wonder what he's seeing that you don't.

His armor catches the sunlight in flashes, the green and silver plating looking oddly out of place against the dingy bricks and rust-streaked dumpsters. Yet somehow, it fits him perfectly. He looks… cool, you begrudgingly admit to yourself, though you’d rather bite your tongue than say it out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be off saving the world right now?” you ask, your tone casual, though the question feels more pointed than you intended. It feels almost ridiculous, standing here with him when it’s so clear he could be anywhere else—doing something that actually matters.

You expect a quick, snarky reply. Something cocky to match the confidence you constantly see online. But instead, he says:

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" You stop in your tracks, holding still so the crunch of gravel beneath your soles doesn’t mask whatever he’s listening for.

Izuku’s eyes stay fixed ahead with an unreadable expression. His footsteps still crunching. "Exactly," He exhales, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Izuku slows, just enough for you to catch up, his sharp eyes flicking to a shadowed doorway before returning to the path ahead. You can’t tell if he’s on edge or if this is just how he is—always scanning and assessing. Either way, it’s unsettling. How does someone live like that? Constantly waiting for something to go wrong?

"Take a left up here," you say, hoping to lighten the mood. "It's not a bad neighborhood, you know."

He shrugs. "I never said it was."

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

"So, where are we headed?" Izuku asks, stepping aside as the alleyway opens into a wider street.

"The Booknook." you say, shoving your hands into your pockets. "Ever heard of it?"

He tilts his head, glancing at the faded street signs. "Can’t say I have. Is it any good?"

"Guess you’ll find out,"

"Is that an invitation?" His tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something in his expression—like he’s giving you a way out.

You hesitate for half a second before nodding. The moment you confirm, your stomach twists. Why did I just invite Deku with me? Panic flutters in your chest, but you keep your tone casual. "If you’re chasing me all over the city just to say thanks, the least I can do is buy you a cup of coffee."

He chuckles, falling into step beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "I appreciate that."

“How’ve you been?” you ask, starting up the first set of stairs. The incline feels steeper than it should, a tightness creeping into your chest with each step.

“Honestly?” The seriousness in his tone forces you to glance over your shoulder. “I’ve been having a hard time breathing.”

Your right foot stops moving mid-step causing you to nearly trip, catching yourself just in time before spinning around to face him. Standing a few steps higher, you’re eye-level with him for the first time.

"For how long?" The words come fast, concern sharpening your tone. "Since the accident, or before? Have you seen a doctor?" The questions tumble out, one after the other, leaving no room for hesitation.

His expression shifts—seriousness breaking into something playful, his grin lighting up like a switch flipped.

"Are you... are you fucking with me?"

"Yes," Deku admits with a laugh, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Midoriya!" You swat his arm, cheeks warming, but the metal plating of his armor dulls the impact. Izuku still moves as if you actually hit him, feigning injury with an exaggerated wince.

Rolling your eyes, you take another step forward. "This healer is off the market," you say, the joke barely out before a wave of sadness crashes over you. "Go find someone else to save you next time."

"Don't be like that," he laughs.

A few people wave as you pass a stationary store, their attention fixed on him. You glance ahead at yet another incline, groaning internally. Why are there so many damn hills in Japan?

"Could we stop for a second?" Izuku leans casually against the railing, squinting at the sun. "I always think I’m in shape… until I have to walk up all these hills."

You let out a breathy laugh. "Sure," you say, shooting him a knowing look. "But shouldn’t you have more stamina? I feel like that's an important trait in heroes."

Izuku huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, turns out crime-fighting doesn’t require this much uphill cardio."

Whatever awkwardness was left between you dissolves as you both break into breathless laughter, the kind that makes your ribs ache but feels way too good to stop. For a moment, it’s like you’re both teenagers again—no weight of the world, no expectations—just two kids without expectations.

Somewhere between catching your breath and teasing him about his supposed stamina, you learn a few things. Like the fact that Izuku drinks an almost concerning amount of melon soda, keeps an entire journal dedicated to analyzing his students’ quirks, and sometimes gets so caught up in hero work that he forgets to eat. In return, you offer little pieces of yourself. How your heart has always been just a little too reckless, how sleep never comes easy no matter how exhausted you are.

It turns out, you have more in common than originally thought.

You both push yourselves too hard. You both let responsibility weigh heavier than it should. And neither of you know how to slow down.

And yet, there’s a difference.

Because while you blend into the background, Izuku never can.

People watch him.

Not just a passing glance or a quick double take. It’s more than that. Every step he takes seems to draw eyes, conversations pausing mid-sentence as he moves past. Somehow, it just seems effortless—the way he acknowledges each one with a smile or a wave.

You watch him, too. The way the sunlight weaves through the green of his hair, catching in the unruly strands. You’ve heard rumors, of course, the hospital is full of gossip and secondhand stories. But none of it compares to seeing him like this, laughing at one of your jokes with a crinkled-up nose.

It's in that moment you understand why Japan idolizes him.

"Are you ready?" Izuku asks, standing up from the curb and extending his hand to help you up.

You look back at the hero, your mind still a little distracted, but still replying with a nod, focusing on him as he waits, hand outstretched.

"Of course." You smile, your lips pulling upward more naturally than you expected as you reach out. Your hand fits in his much larger one, the warmth of his grip grounding you as he effortlessly pulls you to your feet.

"We’re getting close. I think it’s only another block or two," you say, stepping forward—but then you hesitate, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing next to him. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make you notice.

For a split second, you wonder if Katsuki sent him. But the thought vanishes just as quickly—Katsuki won’t even call you back, so why would he go through the trouble of sending Izuku? The sting of that realization settles in your chest, but you push it aside, along with the dozen other questions piling up in your head.

Izuku, oblivious to your inner spiral, keeps pace beside you. The sound of your footsteps blends into the steady hum of the city—distant car horns, students filtering out of their evening study groups, laughter spilling from a nearby café.

"Never heard of this place before," Izuku says, breaking the silence. "What is it?"

"It’s part library, part restaurant," you explain. "Coffee and lunch during the day, liquor in the evening. People go there to read, work, or just exist for a while."

He perks up at that, intrigued. "What’s it called again?"

You huff a small laugh. "The Booknook. It’s probably my favorite place in the city."

Izuku chuckles, shaking his head like he should’ve guessed. "Sounds like something my friend Ida would visit. I’ll have to mention it to him next time I see him."

By the time you reach the correct street, the cozy, wood-paneled storefront glows warmly against the encroaching evening. A few patrons sit outside under string lights, noses buried in books, steam curling from their mugs. Through the large windows, you can see shelves lined with well-worn novels and quiet corners where people have tucked themselves away, lost in stories.

"Here we are," you say, your pace quickening slightly as you gesture toward the door. The store stands warm and inviting before you, the glow of its interior spilling onto the sidewalk.

Izuku tilts his head, taking in the café, but before either of you can step inside, the door bursts open with a sharp bang.

Someone barrels through, slamming into you with enough force to knock you off balance. Your breath catches as you stumble backward, only to collide with something solid. Izuku. His armored arms embrace you before you can hit the ground, steadying you with an ease that makes your stomach flip.

"Hey!" Izuku’s voice is sharp now, the calm politeness from before shifting into something more authoritative as he moves you behind him.

The man who crashed into you barely spares a glance your way. His focus snaps immediately to Izuku as a sneer curls on his lips. His entire presence oozes entitlement, like he owns the street beneath his feet.

"I don't have any spare change." he spits, his tone thick with disdain.

Your pulse kicks up, unease creeping beneath your skin. The man is tall and wiry, dressed in a suit so elaborate it probably costs more than your entire month’s rent. It's clear that he's the kind of rich that demands more from the world simply because he can.

"We don't need your money," you manage, squaring your shoulders. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. His copper eyes locked on the man in the hero suit.

"I’m just here for drink," Izuku says smoothly, his voice measured. "No need to make a scene."

The man scoffs. "Right. Because that’s all you heroes ever do—just mind your business, huh?" Mockery drips from his lips, daring Izuku to react as air between them shifts. You’ve never seen anyone talk to Izuku like this—openly hostile, taunting. But what unsettles you more is how unfazed Deku seems. He doesn’t rise to it, doesn’t even blink. He just tilts his head slightly, his warm eyes now harsh.

"I don’t want any trouble," Izuku says, his voice steady, even—calm in a way that only makes the tension feel heavier. "But you need to apologize to my friend here."

The man sneers again, his lip curling like the mere suggestion is an insult. He doesn’t push further, though. Instead, his narrow copper eyes finally slide to you. There’s something sharp about them, something that gleams. He studies you, trailing over your face like he’s searching for something.

The sneer falters, just for a second. His brows pull together, the look flickering once again into something else. Uncertainty? Amusement? It’s hard to tell. But then his expression hardens again, his jaw clenching like he’s come to some conclusion you don’t understand.

A sleek black car pulls up to the curb, its presence too smooth and convenient. He exhales through his nose, his attention shifting away as if we’ve already become irrelevant. There’s no apology. No words at all. Just a slight, almost imperceptible nod in my direction.

As he moves, his fingers flick out in a lazy, dismissive wave, like Izuku is hardly worth his time. The car door swings open, swallowing him whole. The silence that follows as his car pulls off is heavy, charged with something neither of us can quite name.

Izuku exhales slowly. "That guy…" he mutters under his breath, eyes still on the retreating taillights. "I don’t like him."

Neither do you, but you won't admit that.

"Come on," you say instead, forcing your voice to sound steady. "I'm sure we won't see him again."

Author’s Note: Hey, darling! Long time no read… or, I suppose, long time no write on my part. Life has been a whirlwind lately—I’ve been buried in work on my personal novel, which has unfortunately made me slack a bit on my content here. But I haven’t forgotten about you all! I hope you're staying safe, warm, and surrounded by good things. (Also, sorry if this is clunky?? Writing in second person is so much harder since I haven't done it in so long.)

Tags: @simplyraeblue @moonfloweronmars @kalulakunundrum @froggy-crystal @msjaeger @crystalssncw @dragonscribble @gina239 @abcdefbeom @bakugonnathrowitback @your-mom3000 @elarakive @piluhns @deadhands69 @rienin @pikachuzhc @vanillabeama @cheshairacat

[akookminsupporter]

I'm basic and like Woosan and Minsung lol. Like, I'm a sucker and click on the YouTube shorts / tiktoks about their chemistry or how they're whipped for each other.

That said, I think if anything, the presence of fan service is a pretty clear indicator that the relationship is platonic lol. Like, if two members were actually dating, flirting, etc. then they'd keep it hidden from the public and probably other idols/industry folks, too.

i saw this on my timeline from a stan of another group. but aren't they telling the truth ? will a real couple be that public with their gay relationship with their bandmate ? Its very unlikely 2 men who have a secret relationship behind the scenes will flaunt it for public to see in their homophobic country, especially knowing its harmful for them their group their company their families etc. Going on trips, filming and releasing it, saying you got bitten, allowing staff to film it, having numerous skinship moments on screen and on stage - especially when one is extra private and professional to the point he even hides his iphone airpods which he shares with his supposed bf because they have a contract with samsung and the one who is stalked every 2 days by his y/n saesangs who apparanlty doesnt know about his sexuality or relationship with bandmate, huh?. This all sums up to them being genuine platonic friends who are playing up for their fans and doesnt mind being called a couple. None of heavily shipped duos in other groups doesnt shy away from pda, even teasing fans in their live streams because at the end of the day they are close friends who have nothing hidden going on or to fear.

Its naive to think jikook are a real couple who should be protected in their homophobic country(or world in general) and from crazy fandom when its Jikook themselves who are exhibiting their friendship in homoromantic way for public to see. Make it make sense ?

I took the bait because I was upset and needed an outlet for my frustration. Consider yourself lucky, Anon—messages like yours usually get blocked without a second thought. Yay, you.

I didn’t bother reading every word you wrote, but I got the gist of it. So now I ask, what exactly were you hoping to accomplish? What kind of reaction were you expecting from me or the people who follow this blog? Did you think we’d suddenly have an epiphany and thank you for ‘enlightening’ us? Were you hoping we’d scramble to find that link to another group's fan who supposedly has all the answers? What was your endgame here?

Did you genuinely believe that after reading this, I’d shut down my blog because a fan from another group made a sweeping statement ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE, MIND YOU? That I’d suddenly discard my own opinions, years of observations, and everything I believe in—just because some random fan, who is undoubtedly biased in their own way, decided to declare their version of what, the truth according to you? Why should their perspective or opinion hold more weight than mine or that of any average Jikooker? Why do people like you invest so much energy into trying to convince us that Jikook isn’t real—or, in this case, that it can’t be real for X and Y reasons?

You’re not here for an honest discussion. You’re not offering new insights, nor do you seem remotely interested in hearing a different perspective. So, once again—what exactly was your purpose in sending this?

[cxs-workshops]

Hi. I’m the person who almost attempted suicide, twice. Been nearly a year now, it’s out there, I do not care who knows.

Didn’t want to jump in this but here we fucking go: First to be fucking clear, and which no one, might I add. came to me directly to ask, all the the Logan/anon drama was NOT the reason I did why I did what I did. It didn’t help the situation, but it wasn’t the sole reason. I had so much IRL issues going on at the time, and I realize the petty stuff with the anon hate made it seem like it was the only reason but I barely thought about it while I was doing the thing. I have half the mind to bill a certain party the rest of my medical debt but hey, we’re gonna move on.

I cut myself off from fan servers and from most people in the community due to being anxious all the time, thus being alone since late 2023. If I was talking to anyone, it would be purely about the game or art stuff. Snowy & Goons, how DARE you use my situation to your benefit, and any of the posts I’ve made. You cannot outright accuse someone else of my suicide attempt without any concrete evidence. That’s a damn serious accusation. All we have are petty Tumblr anon messages. And ooo guess what, not every single Logan fan is gathered at Simprock, there are plenty of other individuals within the community, outside of fan servers. Who’s to say that your goons aren’t the ones posing as the anons for them to be framed? Idk but you can’t keep talking out of your ass. My harassment started roughly around 2020/21, I can’t even remember who said what at the time and who’s to say the same people are even around anymore. Should I have collected evidence? Seeing how it all came to this, yeah I definitely should have. I don’t have evidence, but most importantly NEITHER DO YOU. Which applies to many things for you.

Simprock was the last server I had joined. During the brief time I was there, was treated with nothing but kindness and respect. I admit, I do still have a sort of distrust with them, for other reasons, but with this it’s hard not to be on their side( and with apparent evidence) . Actually in fact, it was when Snowy had also joined Simprock, I bolted out of there shortly. I wasn’t there long enough to get to know anyone but I saw your name and my skin immediately crawled. We never talked directly but I first saw you in the bootleg my time server (late 2022-mide2023) the vibes were immediately off. I’m not of fan of Logan either but you were constantly belittling them, not cool. To think you’ve escalated this far…baffling.

Back to using my posts to your benefit, the zine post. How the fuck did you immediately accuse them again when I said I wasn’t joining either zines. Again I couldn’t even guess who the anons were but hey, could be your goons posing again. Just because a person liked it immediately meant it was an attack against you? Dude. Reaching aren’t we.

Some days I take a step back, and think. There were several different ways to have handled my harassment, and I was thinking one of those ways was the one you’re taking Snowy, and I can’t begin to imagine it, not even a little. Why? Because this is fucking insane behavior. I wouldn’t have begun to do something like this good gracious. If I made anyone uncomfortable last year anytime after my attempt or during all the hate anon messages, I genuinely didn’t mean to and I apologize. I appreciate more than anything that the lot of you gathered to help me during and afterwards. I’ll always be thankful.

I’m going to cut myself off here before I get pissed again, but one more thing.

F YOU SNOWY I FN KNEW ITBWAS YOU TALKING SHIT ABOUT QUINLAN. I don’t play about my characters and for you to mischaracterize them like this UGH JUST 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Please Leave me Alone

Hi, I’ve been sort of attempting to avoid making a post about this but due to numerous concerned individuals reaching out to me and the amount of receipts that I’ve been given regarding this I have to make one last attempt to address the person who has been doing this to me for the past few months.

I know what you’re doing, and you know it’s dishonest and wrong. This needs to stop. Targeting others and involving them in your personal drama just for interacting with me is unacceptable, and the misinformation and harassment have to end.

I’m giving you the chance to take accountability and tell the truth. If I continue to hear that this behavior is still happening, I’ll have no choice but to address it directly.

I’m not interested in some self-made competition for attention and the drama - I just want to share my love for this game and community together with my friends. Please leave me alone.

For the record: I have never, and will never, send anonymous hate to anyone - especially not over being queer or creating gay art. As a queer minority myself, I stand for marginalized communities and will always support safe, inclusive spaces for everyone.

It’s incredibly unfair to your friends as well, who you have most likely been feeding false versions of the story. It’s also unfair to pull completely uninvolved individuals trying to enjoy their time in this space into this especially when you know that this is untrue- then hide behind alt accounts and your friends, which will unfairly put them in a position where they have been defending someone who has been dishonest to them.

I wanted to believe that you were going through a rough spot and that it led you to doing this in a bad state of mind, but this is becoming excessive and I want you to please use this opportunity to reflect on this because you know what you have been doing is wrong and hurts everyone.

[seethinglikeme]

the whole ‘not like other girls’ sentiment being demonised in the early 2010s without anyone actually acknowledging and unpacking the internalised misogyny you have to have in order to identify with it, and then everyone moving onto ‘i love other girls and being just like other girls!’ messaging without further clarification, leading to young girls en masse internalising the idea that their misogynistic beliefs about other women were correct all along, and since they aren’t like that they must be something else because there’s no such thing as ‘not being like other girls’ anymore, leading to a shit ton of young women claiming they’re trans or nonbinary

[polyamorouspunk]

Getting messages on here that are like “wow I’m so disappointed in you.. I thought you were better than that” is SO funny like bestie who are you to me? This is tumblr.com! The place we celebrate blocking people for the bare minimum because none of it fucking matters and we’re all just little icons and usernames in each other’s phones. Like you don’t know me! I don’t care that I’ve disappointed you! It doesn’t matter! Unless you are kissing me with tongue I don’t give a shit <3

[something-of-a-hermit]

Why is O Superman (Laurie Anderson) so incredibly comforting but also I’m sobbing my eyes out at 12am over the line “and when force is gone, there’s always Mom (hi, mom!)”?

[ghstzzn]

roommates for dummies!

pairings: lee heeseung x f!reader, jay park x f!reader, jake sim x f!reader, park sunghoon x f!reader

synopsis: desperate to get off of your bestfriends couch, you decide to reply to an ad online in search of a roommate. sure, you were skeptical about living with four men—but if anything, just desperate. it wasn't long before you started to completely regret this decision. however, some things just might be worth the stress and anger.

part one! wc: 5.7k

tags/warnings (for this part): SMUT. theres no fivesome happening (sorry..), threesome(s), fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, pullout method, oral ( m rec), deepthroating, cum eating/cum play/just cum stuff ig, voyeurism, degradation, name calling, some praise, manhandling, sex standing up idk just trust me, no aftercare, silly bit at the end, heeseung thinks he's sooooo funny! that's it for this part i believe.

🍊: havent posted smth fr in awhile kind of nervous. not much happens except sex but thats the point of this. by the way this is one of three/four parts ♡ enjoy and Uhhhhhh uhhhuhhh uhhhhhhhh

masterlist / part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

you savored every second you spent outside of your new home.

sure, you were beyond grateful to have a place to live. in fact, you were lucky considering how quickly you got in this situation. losing your old place due to unforeseen circumstances, a.k.a, your ex boyfriend kicking you out of his apartment after you caught him cheating on you despite you paying more than half of his rent.

though, you figured his new girlfriend could handle that portion now.

you crashed on your friends couch for a few days, actively searching for anyone looking for a new roommate. she assured you that you could stay as long as you needed, and there was no need to rush, but you were stubborn and had quite the false sense of being independent. 

which is why you clicked on the first ad you saw. a nice five bedroom house, the spare having its own bathroom and it was closer to campus unlike your last apartment. you couldn’t find much information on the poster, but you were desperate so you quickly dialed in the number on screen and waited while it rang.

you were taken aback when a male voice loudly boomed from the other side. you pulled the phone away from your ear and double checked the number— it was typed in correctly.

“hello?” he spoke again. “hellooooooo-”

“uh, sorry.” you cleared your throat. “i saw an ad online that you were looking for a new roo-”

the male cuts you off, “yeaahhh. man, was wondering when someone would respond.” you cringe at the way he interrupted you. “you lookin’ for someone else? no offense but you sound a little… y’know, like a girl.”

you let out a sigh, nodding even though he couldn’t see you, “i’m calling for myself… i wasn’t aware you were a man but– actually, i’m a little desperate.”

“yeah? desperate?” he chuckles. you raise an eyebrow at the response. “alright, can you meet me here then?”

caught off guard once more by the sudden eagerness of the stranger, you stuttered out a quick yes.

“cool. i’ll text you the address n’ shit.”

the phone hangs up, not sparring you a moment to respond. you blink as you stare at your phone, watching as you receive a few messages from the number you had just called. 

at least you had other options if this didn’t go as planned.

jake spun around in the barstool at the kitchen island, letting out a puff of air as he waited patiently.

“you waiting for something?” jake turns his head towards the voice. jay walks through the kitchen, chewing on some kind of protein bar.

the antsy male leans forward against the counter, “our new roomie. she said she’d be here ten minutes ago.”

“oh.” jay responds before stopping in his tracks as he actually lets jakes words enter his brain. “wait, what? new roommate? she?”

“yeah man,” jake lets out another huff. “she’s late.”

“no, run that back.” the other male draws circles into the air. “when the fuck did we get a new roommate? and why is it a woman?”

“we have a new roommate?” another voice rings through the kitchen.

jake turns around in his chair with a sigh, “yes guys! jeez, you all need to learn patience– she’ll be here soon.”

“she?” the voice, belonging to heeseung, questions. 

“that’s what i’m wondering!”

“ladies please, one at a time.” the male stands from his seat. “we have a new roommate, yes. she’s a woman, also yes.”

heeseung furrows his eyebrows, thinking for a moment before jay speaks up once more, “don’t we get a say in this? or at least some type of interview?”

“is she hot?” heeseung chimes in immediately after, receiving a scoff from jay.

“totally.” jake snickers. “her voice told me enough about her. sounded so nervous too, it was cute.”

“you don’t even know what she looks like?”

“you seriously only think with that dick of yours.” heeseung comments, shaking his head.

“says you!” jay frowns at the other roommate.

the doorbell rings twice, drawing the attention from all three males. heeseung straightens his posture, quickly checking his appearance in the reflection of the stainless steel refrigerator. jay finishes his protein bar in one bite and clears his throat.

jake rolls his eyes at the two, “careful now, don’t pop a boner in front of her.”

he practically skips over to the door, almost giggling out loud. he pulls the front door open just before you ring the doorbell once more. “was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”

you look him up and down, quite shocked at the attractive face he had.

“uh, yeah, sorry about that.” you respond, clearing your throat. “traffic was heavy.”

“that’s okay, babe.” he opens the door wider, inviting you in, not even hiding the way his eyes immediately land on your ass as you walk in front of him.

your gaze immediately fell on a taller man with red hair, who you assumed was heeseung (you weren’t viewing this house without stalking the people who resided in it), now wearing a beanie and leaned over the counter with his chin resting on his hand. he shot you a crooked smile and waved his fingers at you. 

“hey roomie.”

jay looks at the man in disbelief; and so do you.

“i’m actually just here to tour and interview… right?” you turn to look at jake who shrugs.

“i mean we all agreed you could move in.”

“since whe-”

jake cuts jay off and steps closer to you, “you said you were desperate right? you don’t seem like a weirdo or a bitch so just give us a move-in date and you’re good.”

you squint your eyes at him, confused and questioning this entire thing. your friend's couch doesn’t seem like a bad idea, she even offered to renew her lease for a bigger space in a few months. 

“we promise we won't bother you or anything,” he continues, “you have your own bathroom and the door has a working lock. swear on our lives you’ll barely see us.”

before you could even respond, the front door opens and slams shut. a taller man walks past you and jake, clearly locked into whatever was on his phone. he continued to walk past the kitchen before stopping and spinning around.

“new roommate.” heeseung tells him. the other male lets out an “oh” and nods his head at you before walking away, probably to his room.

you let out a sigh and the three remaining boys turn their attention back to you.

“can i just see the room?” 

-

bothering you was the only thing these fools ever did. 

the front door shuts with a slam and you’re immediately greeted by heeseung sprawled out on the couch scrolling through his phone, completely ignoring the mess leftover from their small house party from last night. the one that kept you up half the night despite begging them to turn in early for the sake of your sanity.

you run your hands through your hair, frustrated that the house looks exactly the same as it did early this morning. well, save for the leftover food that heeseung managed to put in the fridge. kicking off your shoes, you make your way into the kitchen and grab the trash bag that was left on the counter and start tossing all the empty beer cans and disposable cups in.

heeseung looks up from his phone to find the source of the angry slams and movements, smirking when his eyes land on you.

“woah there,” he calls out to you, “wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

you look up from the trash bag, throwing a can in it with so much force it somehow bounces out, only fueling your anger, “save it.”

heeseung chuckles, standing up from the couch and stretching while letting out an obnoxious groan. he walks around the couch and leans against the back of it.

“are you gonna help or just stand there?” you motion towards the mess on the counters.

“no, yeah, i think i'll just stand here. i’m kind of loving this scene with you in the kitchen.” 

you look at him, disbelief written all over your face, “so you’re lazy and a misogynist, nice!”

“what? no,” heeseung looks almost offended at your accusation. “no, babe, i’m not a misogynist– i literally love pussy. i could prove that to you right now if you’d like.”

“not a misogynist, just horny. got it.” 

your roommate only shrugs and pulls out his phone once more. the carefree attitude of his was only adding to the frustration building in your chest. you cross your arms and glance around. “where are the others?”

heeseung hums, you only assume he’s using the full power of his brain as he recalls the whereabouts of the other three roommates, but really he’s only focusing on how your tits bounce ever so slightly with every angry movement if your arms.

“jake’s asleep, jay’s attending a group meditation and sunghoon… should be home in a few. why? miss them?”

you wanted nothing more than to take the metal scrub pad near the sink and scrub at the stupid smirk on his face. instead, you nod and take a deep breath.

the door opens just on cue however. sunghoon walks in, kicking his shoes off in two different directions with a bag of full of bottles clinking against each other. the noise of the liquor bottles only added to your rage.

“really? more alcohol?” you comment and point towards the counter where a few unopened and opened bottles sat. “you have all of this– plus the entire mini fridge full of drinks.”

sunghoon raises a brow at you, “okay. but that’s liquor for functions, not me.”

you wave your hands in front of you. it made zero sense to you.

the taller male looks at sunghoon, “what’s wrong with her?”

“man, i don't know.” heeseung replies with a sigh, “she came in here all pissy and started slamming shit.”

they were having a conversation about you– in front of you.

“what? why?”

he shrugs again, “like i said, don't know. maybe she should follow jay to one of his meditation sessions.”

you roll your eyes, “you’re not funny, heeseung.” he lets out a snicker. you grab a rag from the counter and chuck it in his direction.

sunghoon whistles at the action and sets the bags he was holding onto the counter.

“i’m seriously regretting this whole living arrangement.”

heeseung pouts and crosses his arms over his chest dramatically, “hey! we aren’t that bad to live with.” he protests, though his tone is playful. “at least give us a chance to redeem ourselves. look, we’ll help clean up the rest of the mess.”

you sigh and nod, it’s the least they could do but you won't protest. turning around, you glance at sunghoon, who was now storing away the liquor he had bought and the leftover bottles. 

“...except, it looks like you’ve finished.” heeseung grins. “thanks, darling.”

you shoulders fall in defeat, “i fucking hate you.”

he chuckles loudly as you study the room. he was right. you had completely cleaned the kitchen, minus the few liquor bottles that sunghoon had just stored away.

“no, no. she missed one thing.” sunghoon calls out causing the two of you to whip your heads in his direction. he crouches down and picks up the can that bounced out of the trash bag earlier and tosses it in the trash. “hah, how funny is that? it was right next to the bag too.”

heeseungs no longer holding back his laughter. you question whether or not the dude is blasted out of his mind right now because you definitely didn’t find a single thing about this funny.

“hey, chill.” sunghoon butts in, “i’ll wipe down the counters and shit.”

you turn to face him, “did you by chance buy any cleaning supplies while out?”

“no, why?”

heeseung laughs louder, wiping at his eyes. 

“i really don’t understand what could possibly be so funny about any of this.”

his laughter eventually dies down, finally shutting up. “sorry, sorry.” he clears his throat. “but seriously, thanks for cleaning up. you’re a real one for that.”

you hum and let out a sarcastic sure, heeseung nods and walks past you, patting your shoulder causing you to scrunch your face in disgust. you turn to follow his figure with your eyes, but you catch sunghoon staring at you.

“what?”

“hm, nothing. just wondering when you’re gonna snap out of your little tantrum.” he responds calmly, leaning against the counter. “it’s getting old, to be honest with you.”

you bite your lip, holding back a response to him. you watch as heeseung wipes his hand on a paper towel, throwing it on the counter right after.

sunghoon sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “seriously, what’s the big deal? nobody here is forcing you to clean up after us.”

“but it’s all the time,” you groan. “the constant parties and get-togethers you host while i’m trying to sleep after a long day or studying– then having to come out and clean it all up because you three are nowhere to be seen? i can only deal with so much.”

his expression hardens and heeseung leans against the counter with a bored expression, “well, maybe if you’d let loose for once and joined in on the fun every once in a while, instead of holing yourself up in your room like a hermit, you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

“fuck off.”

sunghoon scoffs, “my point exactly. you’re so uptight and bitchy— it’s not fun. you aren’t better than us for that.”

“sorry i don’t want to be involved in your weird ass parties.” you respond with a shrug.

“such a princess,” heeseung giggles, “always complaining, never participating. seriously, they aren’t as bad as you make them seem.” 

sunghoon nods in agreement, “yeah, i’m telling you that you’d be able to tolerate us a lot more if you cared to let go of that boring, angry personality of yours and showed up.”

you throw your hands up, more than done with the conversation. “whatever, i don’t care anymore. just… just clean up a little more. it’s all i ask.”

heeseung pouts exaggeratedly, eyeing the way you surrender in defeat “oh come on, princess. don’t be like that.” he tries to sound apologetic, “we’re only messing around with you.”

“yeah! we don’t care if you prude around alone in your room!” sunghoon adds, “but just for you, we’ll clean up after ourselves, your highness.”

“you both are childish.” you spit out, biting the inside of your cheeks as the frustration threatens to spill out in the form of tears.

heeseung grins, not at all put off by your insult, “childish? rich coming from the girl who’s about to cry from a little teasing.” he taunts, voice laced with amusement.

you scoff in response, turning around so you could leave the situation and escape to your room, but sunghoon has other plans as he steps right in front of you. his arms automatically wrap around your waist to steady you, his face mere inches away from you as you look up at him, shooting him a glare.

“where do you think you’re going, princess?” he flashes you a knowing smile, voice low and teasing.

you attempt to lean away from his face that only seems to inch closer, jumping slightly when the back of your head comes into contact with heeseungs chin. “to my room– away from the two of you.”

“oh, don’t let us stop you then.” heeseung grins from behind, his cheek nuzzling against your hair. 

“let me go then?”

“but we weren’t done,” sunghoon attempts to feign a pout, but his smirk grows stronger as he studies the way your body reacts to him, “we still have to thank you for cleaning the mess up.”

heeseung hums against your ear, “seriously. how sweet of you, doll.”

“you can thank me by leaving me alone.” you mumble, though you do nothing to back away from the situation. you couldn’t deny the way your heartbeat sped up from being sandwiched between the two, or the way your core pulsed from the way sunghoon traced small patterns into your side.

sunghoon chuckles, all knowing of what was running through your mind, “aw, but where’s the fun in that?” he asks, hands sliding down to your hips, giving them a teasing squeeze. “we love spending time with our favorite roomie.”

your hands fall on top of his, unsure on whether or not you should remove them from your hips. his eyes follow the movements of your hands, letting out a soft chuckle as he watches the way your mind struggles against the need you feel for the two.

“mm, not so fast baby.” heeseung purrs, his hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. “what did we say? gotta give you a proper thank you.”

“how?”

sunghoon smiles, looking at heeseung before turning his attention back to you. “they say actions speak louder than words,” he responds. “we’ll make sure to make it very clear just how grateful we are for you.”

you gulp as he responds, your thighs clenching together at the tone of his voice. the gaze in his eyes told you exactly what the two men wanted from you, the way they looked at you as if you were prey.

heeseung grows impatient from behind, his face nuzzling against your skin as he peppers kisses down your neck until he reaches your shoulder, biting the skin causing you to let out a gasp. he chuckles darkly before tucking his finger under the thin strap of your tank top and letting it fall off your shoulder.

he lifts his head and switches to your other shoulder, resting his chin on your shoulder as he travels his hand down your torso, reaching the waistband of your shorts.

your automatic response is to grab his hands but sunghoon shakes his head and grabs them, linking his fingers between yours and bringing them up to his shoulders. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting your cheek.

sunghoon begins planting soft but deliberate kisses against your skin, following the trail that heeseung had left earlier, kissing and sucking the bite mark left by the other male.

the man behind you takes the chance, shoving his hand down your shorts that he had undone moments before while you were distracted. he grins when he doesn’t feel any other fabric beneath your shorts.

“isn’t that just convenient?” he grins, giddy at the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear. 

“w-wait,” you stutter out, suddenly aware of where you were standing.

sunghoon grips one of your hands, guiding it over his chest, “shh, it’s fine.”

heeseungs hand dips lower, his middle finger sliding through your slit. he lets out a groan before removing his hand from your shorts but quickly yanks them down, letting them fall to your ankles.

you let out a small yelp due to the quickness of the male. he glides his finger from your dripping hold, gathering your slick and moving to your clit, tapping it a few times before pressing down. 

“can’t believe you’re already this wet just from a little bit of touching,” he groans against your shoulder. “really thought we’d have to ease you into this– but you wanted this bad, huh?”

sunghoon smirks against your neck, lifting his head, wanting to see your face as heeseung pleasures you with his fingers, “c’mon, don’t tease her. poor girl probably hasn’t been touched properly in awhile.”

“is that true?” the male behind you questions softly but teasing, “were you just waiting for one of us to fuck you stupid?”

their teasing voices combined with heeseungs fingers massaging at your clit cause you to let out a soft whine. one buck of your hips has sunghoon reaching down and holding your hips in place for heeseung to continue his attack on your sensitive bud.

“you don’t even have to respond,” sunghoon mutters, “look at the way you’re whining and squirming.”

heeseung slips a finger in your core, pumping a few times before slipping another one inside of you. the feeling of your warm cunt walls wrapped around his fingers is enough to send him reeling, he grinds his hips into your ass with a grunt. 

the male in front of you has to tighten his grip on your hips, rolling his eyes. you let out a loud moan when heeseung curls his fingers inside of you, he brings his other hand to cover your mouth.

“don’t wanna wake jakey up, do you?” his voice is low, hot breath hitting the side of your face. you shake your head desperately as he continues to finger fuck you, scissoring and curling his fingers, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you with ease.

“look at her, hee.” sunghoon mumbles, admiring the way you look between the two men, “so pretty like this, isn’t she? if i knew this was a good way to get her to shut up, i'd have done it earlier.”

heeseung chuckles darkly, lips trailing against your neck once more, “she’s so fuckin’ greedy too. literally dripping down my hand… aren’t you, baby?”

you let out a muffled whine and nod your head shamelessly. 

“yeah? you’re doing so good like this,” he continues, “but i think you need more.”

heeseung pulls his fingers out of you and removes his hand from your mouth. you’re about to question him but he’s pushing you forward while pulling your hips back against him. sunghoon holds you steady as the male behind you undoes his pants.

“take your time, hee.” sunghoon comments, slowly losing his patience. “jay’s gonna be home soon.”

“‘m fucking trying,” he mutters in response, successfully freeing his hardened cock with his one hand. “hold her still and shut up.”

sunghoon rolls his head back in irritation and tightens his grip on you.

“you’ll need to cover her mouth too. i’m not sharing her between you and jake today.”

your taller roommate doesn’t respond again but brings his hand up to your mouth with a smirk. you whimper softly through his hand when you feel heeseung slide his tip through your wetness, gathering it on his cock. he rocks his hips a few times, teasing your clit before catching onto your hole and slowly pushing in.

“fuuuck,” he hisses. “she’s so damn tight, sunghoon.”

“just fuck her,” sunghoon responds impatiently, he tilts his head down at you. “that’s what you want right, babygirl?”

you let out a muffled grunt when heeseung bottoms out inside of you. he waits only a few moments before pulling out almost completely, then pushing back inside of you with more force and speed. 

the two men have you perfectly held in place, controlling the movements of your body as heeseung speeds up his thrusts. each rock of his hips draws out a moan from you, covered by sunghoons hand.

heeseung groans softly, his pace never slowing as he takes all the pleasure he can get from your body. “she’s seriously so tight.” he growls, his grip tightening on your body. “feel that? feel how well you wrap around my cock, baby?”

your eyes squeeze shut from the pleasure. your cunt continues to squeeze around his cock as he pounds into you. sunghoon watches the way his roommates cock disappears inside of you, the way your juices glisten everytime he pulls out before slamming back in.

his own cock twitches in his pants, he’s so painfully hard and getting impatient. sunghoon wishes it were just him here instead of heeseung, wishing it were him being the one to fuck you– and only him. you let out a high pitch whine as heeseung speeds up his pace, his tip hitting your g-spot deliciously. he brings a hand down to rub at you clit, causing you to jump from the overwhelming pleasure. 

“mm, she jus’ gets tighter.” he slurs, drunk on the way your pussy sucks him in. “you like that, don’t you? shit.. y’gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

your eyes are shut, in a complete daze from the way his cock is fucking you. sunghoon smirks at the sight, in love with the way you’re fully enjoying every second of this.

“minutes ago you were about to rip our heads off,” he coos, “now you’re over here drooling on my hand over some cock. just a little slut, aren't you? maybe i was wrong about you being a prude.”

heeseung’s barely keeping it together behind you as his hips meet your ass with haste, hissing and groaning with each thrust. he’s uncoordinated and sloppy yet still hitting that spot deep inside of you, throwing your body towards sunghoon, who keeps a bruising grip on you as the other male pounds into you.

your past self would be embarrassed to see you now, yet, you couldn’t feel an ounce of shame at the moment. it feels as if heeseung’s fucking all the frustration out of you.

it’s dirty. the way the two men have you sandwiched in the kitchen— straight out of a cheap porno. every time you start to think about jay or jake strolling in and catching the three of you, it only makes your core throb more with need.

“what are you thinking about?” sunghoon whispers, leaning closer, offering his chest for your head to lean against. “hmm, baby? you thinking about something else while fucking yourself on heeseungs cock?”

the male mentioned lets out a loud groan, gripping your hips and pulling you back harder against him. you could tell he was close, as were you. your hands tug on the fabric of sunghoons shirt, attempting to pull yourself up. but with his hand on your mouth, you can’t let them know so you rely on your body language. 

“gonna cum for me?” heeseung grumbles, leaning closer to you. his thrusts are deep and rough as he chases his high. “c’mon, cum on this cock…” 

you feel your cunt flutter around him as you hit your peak, a muffled squeal leaving your mouth as you finally cum. heeseung pants, giving you a few more thrusts before pulling out completely and fisting his cock until he’s cumming all over your lower back and ass.

sunghoon removes his hand from your mouth causing you to take a deep breath, he wipes his hand on his pant leg which goes unnoticed by you. 

“jesus-” heeseung breathes out from behind you, hand gripping the counter. “fuck, that was good. why didn’t you tell me you felt this good before?”

you don’t reply to him– you just continue to lean against sunghoon as you regain all composure. the tall male keeps a hand on your waist as the other slowly unbuckles his belt. your other roommate redresses himself after using a paper towel to wipe himself down, giving your ass a small smack in the process.

“yo,” sunghoon calls out to him, earning a raised eyebrow in response. he cocks his head behind him. “keep jake in his room, yeah?”

“now?”

the man you were still using as support scoffs, “yes, dude. now..”

heeseungs stands there for a moment, looking at you as you finally turn around, slowly reaching to pull your shorts up. he clicks his tongue and walks off with a groan.

as soon as his footsteps fade away, sunghoon yanks your arm away from the article of clothing and pushes you against the kitchen counter. you gasp when the cold countertop makes contact with your skin. “s-sunghoon!”

he smacks his lips and pushes your sticky lower back down to keep you still, “you seriously thought i was about to let you walk away? after you made me watch him fuck you like that?”

he lifts his now cum covered hand off your back, studying it for a few moments. “not gonna let me have any fun? especially after you used me like a fucking wall?” he grips your face with his other hand, leaning over you as he shoves his fingers in your mouth.

the thick salty flavor hits your tongue immediately and you close your lips around his soaked fingers, the rest of the cum on his hand completely coating your chin and jaw. 

“you like that?” sunghoon chuckles darkly. “you know how pathetic you look right now?”

you groan around his fingers as he rocks his hips against you, grinding his bare cock in your slick. he doesn’t waste a second before shoving himself inside of you causing you to bite down on his fingers from the sudden full feeling once again.

sunghoon hisses in response, pulling out before roughly thrusting into you. the corner of the counter is digging into your hip but you couldn’t be bothered to resituate yourself. he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and snakes his hand in between your thighs, pressing against your clit as he starts to pound into you. his other hand is on the back of your neck, a tight grip as he uses it to stabilize himself.

your own cum is dripping down your thighs as sunghoon’s cock forces it out with each thrust. it’s truly a struggle to stay quiet, your moans are coming out in rough whimpers and deep breaths. you lay your upper body flat against the counter and hide your face in your arms to help muffle your sounds of pleasure.

though it wouldn’t even matter if anyone could hear your cries because the sound of wet skin slapping against each other could surely be heard from the other side of the neighborhood. 

“fuck, you’re taking me so good right now. heeseung loosened you up for me, didn’t he?”  sunghoons voice is low and rough, almost stuttering over his words. “so fuckin’ greedy for cock– look at you.”

if it weren’t for your arms, your face would be squashed into the hard countertops from the sheer force of his hand around the back of your neck pushing it down. sunghoon doesn’t notice, nor does he care about his roughness because truly all he cares about is cumming. 

you can hear the door slam and you try to lift your hand, in sheer panic, but sunghoon shoves it back down with a grumble. 

“t’sup?” sunghoon lets out a sigh and throws his head back.

“nothing,” the voice, belonging to jay, responds. he throws a few envelopes on the counter and sighs. “another noise complaint– like dude, who fucking cares? they act like the cops are gonna bust us or something.”

never in a million years did you think you would be getting backshots while two people had a completely casual conversation as you were between them.

sunghoon groans, his pace barely slowing, “my parents own half this fuckin’ neighborhood.”

“that’s what i’m saying! these complaints are useless.” jay responds, an annoyed tone lacing his voice. “is that– y’know what, i’m tired. clean the counters when you’re done.”

and with that, jay is walking away. you only hope he’s heading to his bedroom. however, your entire body is hot with embarrassment yet you feel yourself about to cum any second.

“fuck– sunghoon! s-slow down.” you barely cry out as you cream around his cock. he rolls his eyes, not that you could see, before pulling out completely. 

you take a deep breath before he grabs you and spins you around, pushing you to your knees. your hands fly to his thighs, trying to catch yourself before bruising your knees. 

sunghoon spares you a wicked smirk before tapping the tip of his cock against your lips, in which you invite him in with zero hesitance. he doesn’t start slow, immediately pushing his cock to your throat, enough to bring tears to your eyes before pulling out to let you breathe.

and he does it again. and again. until you're coughing around his cock.

“yeah, just like that, baby.” the male sighs, hand gripping your hair. he lets you take another deep breath before shoving his cock deeper down your throat. “look at you gagging– fuck, this is so good.”

he repeats his actions until his cock is twitching with the need to cum. sunghoon gives a few thrusts before pulling back slightly and cumming all over your tongue and throat. his release was almost too much for you, but he didn’t care that it was dripping out of your mouth, or that you were borderline choking on it.

“swallow.”

you try to shake your head no but he only tugs on your hair, “you can.”

shakily, you cover your mouth as you gulp, swallowing his sticky release. sunghoon chuckles, completely satisfied. 

“you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” he cooes. his thumb, sticky with heeseungs earlier release, wipes at your tears. you can only stare at him as he continues to degrade you. “oh, don’t be ashamed, princess, it’s perfect for us.”

you wipe at the corner of your mouth before grabbing your shorts that are laid close by. grabbing the counter edge above, you pull yourself up, not at all wanting to ask for sunghoons help. he leans against the counter, fixing his belt, completely uninterested in you.

slipping the shorts on felt useless in front of him. what was there to hide at this point?

“i’m gonna shower.”

“yeah, sure. i’ll try not to use any hot water for the next hour.”

you give him a nod. well, this is fucking weird. but you honestly would rather take this than it be awkward. genuinely, you would rather not have him force himself to give you soft and sweet aftercare. 

“jays cooking tonight!” sunghoon calls out to you as you head back to your room. you roll your eyes and push your door open.

you: 

    hypothetically, i have this friend who wanted to move out of her current place because she HATES her roommates but she just fucked 2 of them…. at the same time and suddenly doesnt want to leave

from: chaewon 💓

       what the FUCK did u just say to me

you:

     so basically im fucked

🍊: @filmnings @deobitifull @leov3rse @hooniehon @roslayy @strxwbloody @cutiepatootiejungwon @jakeswifez @yuriknows @d-dilemma (bold couldn’t be tagged / taglist now closed!)