#it is not that black-and-white like you wish it was.

[rqnarok]

MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.

— sequel to bed chem but could be read as a standalone!

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. power dynamics. cnc. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 

You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 

This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 

The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.

But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.

The lack of attention and affection.

Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 

All bare and worn out.

You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 

The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  

It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.

That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.

What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”

And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 

On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 

You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 

But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 

He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 

What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 

The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  

By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 

“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.

Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 

“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.

You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 

“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 

Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 

After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.

Something’s up. 

“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 

He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 

The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”

When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 

You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”

He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ you old man?”

“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.

Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 

He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 

He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 

Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 

“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 

“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.

You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 

The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 

“Where d’ya want me?”

You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

In fact, you don’t even know anything…

“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 

No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 

You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 

So then,

“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 

Bingo. 

Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.

He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 

“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 

Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 

“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  

“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 

“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.

“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 

Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 

This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 

He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 

And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 

He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 

“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 

Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.

It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.

You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 

He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”

“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.

Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.

“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”

What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 

His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.

“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 

“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 

Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.

He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 

“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”

And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.

He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.

You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.

Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won. 

[hanjsquokka]

bed chem.

han jisung × fem!reader — love at first sight, strangers to lovers, non idol! au, based on sabrina carpenter's song bed chem, fluff/smut

summary — you couldn't take your eyes off him since you saw him. even though you talked for mere seconds, you were undeniably in love. good thing he felt the same too.

warnings — alcohol consumption, swearing, explicit sexual content (warnings under the cut), lots and lots of kissing, just a little bit of a situationship

word count — 4.4K

author's note — extremely late birthday post for my favorite man 🩷 bed chem is my favorite song on sabrina's album and jisung just so happened to wear a white jacket for the dicon magazine photos 😻☝️ what a perfect coincidence. this was kinda rushed, but i hope you like it <33

please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs, they really make my day 🫶🏼

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

smut warning — mastrubation (f rec), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple rounds (2), overstimulation

You couldn't stop staring at him; you probably looked like a creep, but you could care less. The party was in full swing around you, all of the attendees decked up in black and white formal wear, in accordance with the theme of the party your company was holding. It was some anniversary event; you recalled seeing number balloons strung up all over the place along with normal ones. You'd, at first, reluctantly attended, your mishap with your original outfit causing you to borrow one from a friend at the last minute and your favorite pearl necklace snapping when you were putting it on—both seemed like an omen for you to not go.

But boy were you glad you did, or else you would've never met him.

“Han Jisung,” your coworker, Changbin, told you. “He was working at an overseas branch and was recently transferred here.”

Your brain zoned out after that, vision tunneling at the sight of the man in the white jacket, his hair slightly long and styled back with a middle part, although a few strands came loose and hung delicately on the sides of his face. When the light hit just right, you could see a sheen on his lips, making your heart thump in your chest even more. 

“God, just go talk to him. You're practically eye-fucking him in front of my champagne,” Hyunjin, another one of your coworkers, grumbled, his face scrunched up in disgust as he sipped from his glass. Your own glass was forgotten in your hand and most likely would've been spiked if you were at a club from the way it'd been staying in the same spot while you shamelessly gazed at the beautiful man.

“I would, if I had the guts to do it,” you snapped back, your free hand scrunching up the material of your sheer, black dress that you wore over a shorter, tighter one. Your friend told you that you looked hot but, in the presence of so many other elegantly dressed women and men, you felt underdressed.

Your horrible luck struck once again when you looked back at Han Jisung and your eyes met his. Your face flamed red at being caught by him, turning away so your back was facing his direction, and you chugged your champagne.

Both Hyunjin and Changbin laughed at your embarrassment, your scowl only intensifying their amusement. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole, that you'd miraculously get a phone call from someone, and you'd have to leave because you would not be able to live this down if he questioned you. 

A tap on your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin, causing you to turn around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, and you were met with a blonde man with freckles dotting his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice deep and rich.

“Hi?” You greeted, your tone confused, wondering who this man was.

“Sorry, I'm Felix,” he offered a hand to shake, which you did while introducing yourself, still feeling as clueless as ever. “Long story short, if you're okay with it... I would like to introduce you to my friend. He's a bit shy.” Your brows furrowed for a moment before you nodded. Anything to save you from your slip-up. “Great.” He gave you a big smile before looking back, seemingly for his shy friend, and called him over.

In a ridiculous twist of fate, the person he called over was none other than the man you were caught staring at.

You wished you could disappear. 

“Okay, so, Ji, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jisung.” Felix clapped his hands together. “Now stop being an idiot and speak to her,” he added quietly, causing Jisung to fumble with his words and hit the blonde's shoulder, the latter only laughing in response. 

Your heart sped up in your chest when Jisung's gaze met yours for the third time that night, beating so loudly you were sure someone could hear it. Felix gave his friend one more knowing look before he linked arms with Hyunjin and Changbin, making you question if the three of them were close, and walked away to talk to other people.

Your throat felt parched, and you had no idea what to say. Another sip for your fresh glass of champagne while the tension between the two of you increased with every second.

“Right, um, I'm sorry for staring at you,” he finally said once it had gotten almost too awkward, in an accent you couldn't put your finger on, letting out a nervous chuckle, and looked at you with those big, brown eyes, almost making your knees buckle.

“I apologize as well,” you said, your stomach fluttering as his smile widened. “I wasn't trying to be creepy, you just...”

“Caught your eye?” He asked before adding, “Because you definitely did.” You blushed, your body feeling hot and bothered at his sudden compliment. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a ringtone interrupted him, and he muttered a sorry underneath his breath before pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Shit, this is important.”

You smiled. “No, it's alright.” You watched him give you a sort of upside-down one in return before walking away to take his call in a quieter place.

You didn't see him for the rest of the night, much to your disappointment. It was like he vanished into thin air. You couldn't sleep, even after hours of laying in bed after going home (the sun would come up before you would sleep, you thought), your mind replaying the evening again and again in your head like a broken record. For the first time in a while, you felt something so strong for someone you had spoken to for a few moments.

You found yourself scrolling through your social media feed, pictures of the party occupying most of it. You came across a picture in one of Hyunjin's posts with Felix, and a dumb idea struck—Felix was Jisung's friend, right? If you were lucky, which was very unlikely, Felix would have a public profile... which he did! And then going through his following, you should be able to find...

“Aha!” You exclaimed as you landed on Jisung's profile.

The next few hours were spent scrolling through his posts—totally not creepy. Your delusions were increasing by the minute as you got a look into his life and the kind of person he was. He seemed to have stayed in Malaysia before coming to your town; he had a white-furred dog, and he uploaded videos of him playing the guitar and singing every now and then—he could not get any more perfect. The more you saw, the more it cemented in your brain that he was the one. He was perfect for you.

The only problem you had was how you would approach him without looking like a complete stalker. You finally fell asleep like that, drifting off into a deep slumber, your dreams filled with the face of the man you encountered and may never see again.

“No way, no way, no way!” You stared, mouth agape, at your phone screen, your TV show forgotten in the background. You'd woken up late the next day, skipping directly to lunch after freshening up and seating yourself on your couch with a plate of food in your hands. After you finished eating, you decided to check your notifications, swiping on the unnecessary advertisements and spam emails until you saw...

[Unknown, 11:37am]: Hey Y/n! It's Jisung, from the party yesterday. I got your number from Felix. Is that weird? I'm sorry if it's weird 😭 I really like you, and I feel bad our conversation was cut short yesterday. I was wondering if you'd like to hang out sometime. I'd love to get to know you better. If not, that's totally okay; just pretend I never sent this.

You read the message a few hundred times, saving his contact with a heart beside his name, before you mustered enough sanity to reply back to him.

[You, 3:09pm]: Hi Jisung! I'd love to hang out sometime 🩷

The reply was almost instantaneous, another wonderful quality. 

[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: Great! I heard this café is good around here. 

[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: <sent a location>

[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: If you're free, would you like to meet up there tomorrow? Unless you're not, that's okay; maybe I'm being too forward 😭

[You, 3:11pm]: No, not at all! I was thinking of tomorrow too. Sounds great. I'll meet you at around four?

[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: Four sounds perfect. See you then!

You had no idea how you managed to sleep that night, excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of going on a date with Jisung. The next day, you impatiently waited for the clock to strike four. When it finally was time, you got dressed, redid your hair until it was to your liking, and hailed a cab to the meeting spot.

You couldn't believe you were meeting Jisung in a few minutes. Maybe all the bad luck yesterday was worth it. Hell, you'd endure misfortune forever if it meant the two of you could hit off and your relationship would progress from the awkward talking stage you were in. Your thoughts trailed from cute fluffy dates that you and Jisung could have if you started dating to more not PG-13 ideas the more you thought about him. It was wrong; you knew that. You hardly knew him, and yet you were acting like a horny teenager just because you thought he gave you heart eyes—in your defense, it had been a while since you were with someone, and your heart just couldn't help but wander down the gutter because this guy... this guy seemed like he liked you just as much as you did. He put in the effort of talking to you and everything—that had to count for something, right?

Your anxiousness made you arrive outside the café ten minutes beforehand, exiting the Uber with a cluster of nerves in your stomach. You opted for a warmer outfit, seeing that autumn had begun and the air had turned slightly crisp in the evenings. A woolen sweater tucked into your jeans, it was casual enough for a café date (was this a date?). 

After what seemed like hours (five minutes), you saw Jisung exit a car and come up to you in a light jog. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” You swallowed nervously, admiring his outfit choice that looked good on him. You shook your head in response to his question, a smile forming on his face as he stopped right in front of you. “My neighbor's cat snuck into my apartment, and it was this whole thing,” he said, waving his hands in the air while shaking his head in disbelief. “Anyways,” he went to the door of the café and opened it, “after you.”

You blushed and walked inside, thanking him for holding the door for you. The two of you sat at a table after ordering your drinks and settled into a less awkward silence than the previous day.

“Do you like coming here often?” You asked, looking around the place. You'd never seen this café before, probably because it was out of the way in your commute route from your apartment to your office. 

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, this place makes some seriously good coffee. My apartment is a few blocks away, so I usually drop by for a to-go cup in the morning before work.”

“Right, I never got to ask, which department do you work in?”

“Marketing. I worked in the Malaysia branch until a few weeks ago.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Explains why I haven't seen you at the office before. I'm in the IT department.” You looked at the table. “I would've remembered if I saw someone like you,” you added, smiling as you saw the tips of his ears turn red.

“You're cheeky, aren't you?” He chuckled. 

A waiter brought your drinks—a pumpkin spice latte for you, a fall special that you adored, and an iced Americano for him. You took a few sips of your latte, your insides warming up from the hot coffee.

“So, Y/n, what do you like to do outside of work?” Jisung asked, brushing his bangs to the side to see better. His hair was much more unruly than it had been at the party; it added a boyish charm to his persona. 

“Not much, truthfully,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh. “I go to a pottery class on the weekends, but I'm not that good at it... Most of my masterpieces are deformed pots and mugs.”

Jisung laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did. “You'll get better at it! I sucked at playing the guitar when I first started, and now I'm not bragging, but I do play pretty well.”

“Really?” Liar, you knew he played well. You spent a good amount of time watching the guitar covers he posted on his account before you slept. “You'll have to show me sometime.”

“Even better, I'll teach you.”

Time passed by quickly, the two of you talking about whatever you could think of until you had to part ways. Despite the fact that there wasn't any solid confirmation that you're dating, you could tell he really liked you, which made your heart fuzzy. 

For the next few weeks, you both called and texted each other, taking a few detours at work just to see the other, only to see that they had done the same as well, making you laugh. Jisung was the only thing on your mind. His face, his deep voice, the way his face would flush whenever you made a teasing comment on the smirk that would tug at his lips whenever he did to you. You were dancing around each other on the topic of commitment, neither of you making the move to ask the other if you'd like to be exclusive.

It was frustrating seeing that you went on dates whenever your schedules would allow it—the movies, the park, anything, to be honest. You spent the day beside him and then the night with your hands between your legs, his name rolling off your tongue embarrassingly as you came around your fingers.

It was getting comical how your relationship was at a stalemate for weeks. Even Hyunjin and Changbin were pestering you to make the move so you'd stop rambling about him while you worked.

One day after work, you were met with Jisung waiting outside the office next to his car, still dressed in his work clothes and looking at his phone. Once you called out to him, he looked up, his face lighting up as he approached you.

"Hi, beautiful,” he greeted, taking your hand in his. “How was your day?”

“It was okay... What are you doing here? I thought—”

“I wanted to surprise you, obviously,” he said, tugging at your hand to lead you to his car. He used his free hand to open the driver's side door and brought out a bouquet of red tulips. You weren't an idiot, and you knew he wasn't one either. The color of the flowers... you knew what that meant, and your heart did a little jump in your ribcage. “And to ask you to be my girlfriend because I've been a coward to do so earlier.” He swallowed. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be yours?” He asked, his voice soft and almost nervous, eyes flitting up to meet yours. 

“I'd love to,” you answered, accepting the bouquet with a flushed face and a smile so wide your cheeks burned. “You're such a romantic, Jisung. These are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he flirted, grinning when he saw your reaction. “But seriously, I'm sorry I've been an idiot. I really really really like you, Y/N. Since the moment I saw you. Scratch that, I love you. I know I do.” He squeezed your hand. 

“I love you too.” A million thoughts were exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. Your eyes dipped down to his lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek before speaking. “Can I kiss you?”

“Thought you'd never ask,” he muttered, the hand that was holding yours moving to wrap around your waist. Your eyes fluttered close as his face drew closer to yours and his lips finally met your own. The kiss was sweet; you could taste his chapstick, which made your stomach flip. Your arms went over his shoulders, still holding onto the bouquet.

When he pulled away and looked at you with that half-lidded gaze, you swore you would have fainted if he wasn't holding onto you. Another kiss from him took your breath away, this one much deeper and more sensual than the first.

“I won't be able to stop kissing you now that you're my girlfriend.” He chuckled, planting a final kiss on your forehead before pulling away.

“I wouldn't mind that.”

“Really?” He laughed even more. “Good, because you can't stop me. Now, let me drive you home.”

The ride to your apartment was filled with future date plans and spontaneous karaoke once he turned the radio on. You visited each other's houses in the past few months, having a few movie nights, but this time, you wanted—no, needed to take the next step. He parked his car and walked with you up to your flat. When he was about to leave, you stopped him.

“Jisung, why don't you stay over?”

He paused in his tracks. “What?”

“We could order takeout... or make dinner, and tomorrow's the weekend...” You bit your lip, waiting for his response.

“Y/n,” he said, almost hesitantly. “You do know—”

“I want it.” You cut him off. “Just... stay over, Jisung, please?”

He sighed. “You know I can't say no when you ask me like that.” He smiled softly and accepted your invitation, walking into your apartment and kicking off his shoes. Both of you knew what was going to happen, and you were more than ready to have him completely. Once you locked the door behind you and put the bouquet in the kitchen, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and pull you close. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Your third kiss was completely different, filled with fervor and desire. He pulled you impossibly close, his hands scrunching up the material of your blouse as he tried to taste as much of you as possible, tongue diving into your mouth. He groaned lowly when your hands tugged at his dark locks, making you smirk against his lips, and you did it again. “Mm… baby… You don't know what you're doing to me,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over yours.

“I want you, Jisung. I need you, please.”

“I can't deny my girlfriend when she asks so nicely, hm?” He pressed one more kiss on your lips. And then another, while you navigated clumsily to your bedroom. “God, I've been wanting to fuck you since I saw you in the dress at the party,” he spoke hotly, gaining your skin once you were in the room, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You let out a sigh, tilting your head to give him better access when you felt his teeth graze your skin. “So pretty.”

“Want you to fuck me too, every time you come here...” You said, your voice breathy as he left a mark at the junction of your neck and collarbones.

“Yeah? You've been thinking about me, baby?”

“Every night,“ you admitted, embarrassment bubbling up inside you when you saw the smirk plastered across his face. “It's not my fault!”

“I know, I know, I'm irresistible,” he said with a laugh and kissed your jaw. “I can't deny that I've been thinking about you too.” His warm breath fanning across the side of your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “A lot of R-rated thoughts. Maybe I could show you.”

“I think I'd like that.”

He smiled, kissing you on your lips deeply one last time before his fingers hooked underneath your top. “Can I?” With your nod of consent, he slowly lifted the fabric off of you, and it fell onto the floor. You could see his pupils dilate as he took in your freshly uncovered skin, which made heat pool between your legs. Every touch of his hands across your supple skin and every feathery kiss of his lips made your mind go more and more hazy, even though he hadn't even touched you that much. He tentatively gave your breast a squeeze over your bra, making you inhale sharply. He did it again, rolling his thumb over your nipple. 

You hadn't even noticed his other hand on your back until he unhooked your bra and it fell down. A red tinge formed on your face as Jisung practically drooled at the sight of you half naked, his mouth latching onto your nipples while one of his hands toyed with the other and his left trailing down your body to your ass, squeezing the flesh, making you meal. Your knees buckled as his tongue swirled around your bud, nipping at the delicate flesh. He did the same to the other side, drawing more and more quiet gasps from you.

It wasn't before long; both of you were naked and lying on the bed, him giving open-mouthed kisses sloppily along your skin while his fingers toyed with your entrance, making you moan and arch off the bed. He sliced you open, preparing you for the next step—the one thing you've been wanting for weeks.

“So wet already.”

“All for you.”

“All for me, hm?” He repeated. “I need to fuck you, baby. Been dying to feel you,” he said with a groan, kissing between the valley of your breasts, your heart thundering in your ribcage as he guided you to spread your legs. “Are you ready, love?” You nodded, unable to speak, feeling his heavy cock press against your inner thigh. He aligned himself with your cunt before pushing in slowly, letting your snug walls adjust to him as he sank deeper and deeper, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, until he was fully inside. It was too much and too little all at the same time. A peck on your forehead brought you back, and you signaled for him to start moving.

It was mind-blowing; the sensuality of his thrusts made your breath hitch. Soon, your moans filled the room in symphony with his groans and whimpers as your walls sucked him in more and more, drinking in his soul. His head hung over his shoulders, hair falling over your skin as he kept thrusting into you over and over again, making your toes curl as he repeatedly brushed against that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. 

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted. “So fucking tight, so good for me.” You moaned in response, hands clawing at his back, needing something to ground you to this world as he drove you to greater heights.

“Shit, Jisung—” You could feel your orgasm approaching, the band in your belly coiling tighter and tighter.

“I've got you, baby,” he muttered, closing the gap between the both of you again, swallowing your moans as he moved harder, determined to make you cum around him. “Cum for me.” His words were the last push you needed to tumble off the edge, your body merging into him as you came on his cock. You could feel overstimulation kick in as he kept moving inside you, making you whine and dig your nails into his back.

“I'm not done yet.” And within a second, you were flipped onto your stomach, your ass jutted out, and he sank back into again, a loud moan coming from both of you. His movements were much less coordinated from before, more jerky and hasty as he chased his own high while trying to bring you to yours once more. His fingers found your clitoral area, rubbing harsh circles on the bundle of nerves as he drilled into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed underneath his breath, feeling your walls clench even tighter around you. "Babe—baby, I need you to cum with me, please.” He gasped when you tightened instinctively at his words. “Come on, love.”

The way he could be so sweet and yet so dirty in the way he spoke while he was fucking you from behind, your face pressed into your pillows, muffling the loud moans reverberating in your throat, turned you on even more. You reached your peak once again, from the combined actions of his fingers on your clitoral area and his tip bruising against your spot inside you, clamping down on him as you released, triggering his own orgasm. His hot seed filled you to the brim, and he gave a few last strokes before pulling out his softening dick and letting both of you catch your breath.

After cleaning up, you laid side by side, your breathing still uneven like you ran a marathon. Curled up against his side, you let your body calm down, his arm around you to hold you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, brushing the hair out of your face and looking at you with tired eyes and a lovesick smile.

“I'll take you out on a proper date, and then we'll go back to my place, and I'll fuck you in my bed as many times as you want me to,” he promised quietly. “I'll take you wherever you want to go; just stay by my side, okay?”

“I'll always stay by your side. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” You lifted your head up to kiss his forehead, watching his grin widen, and he squeezed you in his arms. “Yeah, I'm so in love with you,” he said with a giggle. 

Now you could put your mind to rest, knowing you both had really good bed chem as well.

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[overtake]

Trying to do something resembling coping after Singapore. Have some Max/Daniel hurt/comfort (1.3k). Also on ao3 if you prefer.

The press of a button freezes Max’s watery blue eyes, the space between them bifurcated by the crease in his forehead.

“Is now really a moment to remember?” Max asks in a raspy voice. His throat isn’t clogged by tears, but there’s almost a decades worth of race starts together sitting uncomfortably in there and congesting each word.

His hand hasn’t strayed from Daniel since he found him after the race. It’s somewhere on some part of him every time he’s close enough to touch.

Normally he’s halfway home by this point, Air Max somewhere over the circuit skies and headed back toward home.

He’s stayed, this time, in case this is it. In case this is his last chance to neatly fold Daniel’s clothes into his bag, even though his own are always wrinkled under pairs of stained shoes and dirty briefs. In case this is the last time they both exit the paddock as drivers. In case this is the final chance Max has to trace the shape of Daniel’s jawline and tell him, “Good race.”

Daniel’s mum is giving them a last minute alone. She’s standing guarding outside the door and leaving them be for now. Daniel knows, though, that when they stand, she’ll hug Daniel close, wishing he was little enough to hide in the crook of her neck while she covers all his gaping wounds with plasters and a kiss on each one to ease the ache. 

Despite his complaints about the camera, Max still moves from where he’s crouched in front of Daniel to collapse into his side and observe the photo. He wraps one arm around Daniel’s back to tug him impossibly closer and rests his mouth on the top of Daniel’s shoulder in an exhausted kind of kiss.

“I look like shit,” he says, statement muffled by the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. He sounds like he wants to poke fun at himself until he makes Daniel laugh, but they’re both too hollowed out to muster up the energy. Instead, Max reaches out and turns off the display.

For a second, their fingers linger together on the camera’s body, until Daniel lets the camera drop back against his chest so he can entangle their hands instead.

“It’s not a nice memory,” Daniel agrees. Unlike Max, his voice right now can all be attributed to tears. “But in December, no matter what happens after today, I’ll get a retake on the farm. I’ll be happy, and we’ll be together, and life will go on from now.”

Daniel feels the dampness on his shoulder when a single tear breaks containment, then another, and a shuddering breath, until Max rights himself and pointedly looks away from the tiny patch soaked in cotton.

“It’s not fair,” he says tightly. For a second, he sounds every bit the bullish teenager with a black and white view on the way the world ought to work and bitter frustration that sometimes reality dapples in nuance. It’s the first thing to get Daniel anywhere within city limits of smiling since he set the lap record and gave himself a final moment in the car to reflect on everything this sport had given him, and that he had given this sport.

“Yeah,” he agrees hoarsely. “It’s not fucking fair.”

He’s done with excuses and niceties and dancing on the Red Bull puppet strings in hopes that playing their game might finally net him a seat he’d killed himself to earn. It’s not fair. It’s callous and cruel, the way they’ve strung him and everyone who loves him along for a race they aren’t even brave enough to tell him is his last.

They’re silent for another moment. Daniel closes his eyes and soaks it in: the tendrils of freshly washed hair still trailing water down his spine. The din of dog-tired employees breaking down the paddock, to be quickly vanished away as if it was never here. The ragged in-and-out of Max’s lungs as he tries to coax both of their breaths into something resembling normal.

“Thank you, by the way,” Max says softly. “And congratulations on your lap record.”

“You owe me a really nice Christmas present.”

Max presses a whisper of a kiss over Daniel’s drying curls. “You always deserve the nicest presents.”

Daniel’s mum slips in then, gently shutting the door behind her. Unlike Max, she’s made no secret of her tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she musters up enough of a smile when Daniel heaves himself up into her arms.

“Come here, Max,” he hears his mum scold. A second later, Max is in an awkward three-person hug. Grace’s short arms struggle to embrace them both, but smelling her vanilla perfume and knowing she’s there is enough to surround him in all the ways that matter.

She whispers in turn to each of them, but they’re all so tightly wound, they can all hear every word.

“Thank you for being here every time I couldn’t be,” she tells Max. He murmurs something back, but he manages to keep it quiet enough that Daniel can’t make out all his words. It’s something about thanking her for trusting him with Daniel, but the rest is lost. All he knows is that his mum’s tears start flowing again.

When it’s his turn, she can barely choke out the words. “I’m so proud of you. For your career, of course, but for who you’ve grown into. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

“I love you,” is all Daniel manages. He buries the nose shaped like hers into the brown curls that his genes copy-pasted and soaks in gratitude that he has both her face and her endless capacity to love.

Daniel walks into humid night air with his head held high and a career most drivers would kill for, surrounded by people who love him for more than that list of achievements, and knows that he’ll survive whatever comes next.

“That’s a terrible photo,” Max complains three months later. His eyes are scrunched up all cute in it, framed by long lashes and sun-soaked freckles that are almost hidden by the streaks of dirt on his face. He’s smiling, both in the picture and right now, so Daniel knows he doesn’t actually mind.

Two weeks of busy Australian summer have left Max various shades of pink and tan. He'd somewhat learned how to use the grill that Daniel was too scared to touch and now had matching grill aprons with Daniel's dad. He christened the new baby cow the wholly uncreative name ‘Lilly’, because god forbid any animal in his vicinity not be named after Monaco nightlife. He’d also 100% taken to the dirt bikes as easily as everyone would assume and had absolutely, definitely not sworn Daniel to secrecy about where he got that giant bruise on his side after their first go.

When Daniel transfers the photos to his computer later, his finger pauses on the photo captured in a melancholic driver’s room. In it, Max’s eyes are dull and weary, but they’re looking at Daniel with the same unblinking love from today’s picture.

It’s proof, memorialized in expensive pixels, that Daniel’s life did not end on the streets of Singapore; that his worth to the world never depended on his points or podiums.

He closes the lid of his laptop and joins the gathering in the living room. Max is pouring fake tea for Isabella’s dolls. Isaac is politely sipping an empty teacup, one pinky in the air. Isabella is nowhere to be found, probably busy dragging Daniel’s poor parents to see Lilly the cow for the fifth time today.

“Daniel!” Max says, in the sweet, distinct way his mouth always forms the name. His face brightens when Daniel walks in. When Max smiles like that, it’s as if the sun has come through the roof and taken human form in broad shoulders and rumpled t-shirts.

“Max!” Daniel says back, matching his enthusiastic tone. He sits cross-legged in Isabella’s empty spot and slides his fingers between Max’s.

The tea party continues, and life moves forward.

[ohtobeleah]

I like to think the song 'I Love You, I'm Sorry' Specifically the Bridge of the song, is very Logan Howlett x Reader coded. And stick with me for a moment because I'll explain what I mean. It's early days, like truly early days in your relationship. So early that you don't even know if the feelings you feel are real or just lust-coated wishes.

I love you, I'm sorry

You were the best but you were the worst As sick as it sounds, I loved you first I was a dick, it is what it is A habit to kick, the age-old curse I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad Stare at the crash, it actually works Making amends, this shit never ends I'm wrong again, wrong again

I feel like it would be the reader who has this shit on repeat in her little cafe. Just doing the ordering, or enjoying five minutes of peace that comes once in a blood moon when you run a cafe that's a vigilante's wet dream.

"You listen to this song an awful lot," Logan grumbled as he took a sip of his coffee. Black, nothing sweet, no milk, no cream. "It's like an unrelenting Groundhog Day of bad music." Deep down, Logan only says it because he knows your attention is on the books in front of you and not on him.

"If you'd pay attention to the lyrics, you old fart, then maybe you'd understand why I like it so much," You don't even look up from where you're writing down your next order of alternative milk. But smile nevertheless because you know Logan has no intention of admitting he'd ever be into the same music as you. "It's about you."

"Like fuck it's about me," Logan replies with a frown. "How is it about me?"

"Logan," You sigh as you finally look up across the table. You're slightly frustrated because you need to focus, but you can't be mad at the brooding oldie sitting across from you when he gives you that shit-eating grin you love so much. He wanted your attention, he got it. "I sometimes wish you had mind-reading capabilities because then you'd know when I'm tellin' you to piss off." Logan chuckles at your attempt to flirt. He can smell your arousal from here, but would never mention it. The two of you had never crossed that line...Yet. It's not the only thing he can smell. He can smell your perfume. The Black Plum and Vanilla one. He can smell your shampoo. The juniper and white lilly one. He can even smell your annoyance for the way he's tapping his knee against yours under the table. The gentle knocks keep breaking your concentration and it's making you more and more flustered.

"I'd only wanna read your lips anyway," Logan takes yet another sip of the coffee he loves endlessly but would never admit to your face that your coffee doesn't make him want to kill himself. "Come on, enlighten me a little here."

You just stare at Logan for a moment, really just drinking in his entire being. Fuck, you were really falling for his son of a bitch, weren't you?

"You always call yourself the worst Logan there is. The worst version of yourself across all the realities and different timelines," You explain as you pack up your things. "But to me, you're the best, and I loved you before I ever had any chance to see your flaws, for the many that you fucking have," You sit in silence for a moment, just at peace with the fact you'd told Logan that you loved him in a very unconditional, non-traditional way. "Do with that information what you will, I have work to do you."

Later that same evening, when Logan knocks on your front door, you glimpse the song he'd last been listening to on the little iPod you gave him that you found in an old junk drawer. You raise a single brow as you lean against the doorframe and smirk.

"Gracie Abrams, Huh?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Ilya

[just-a-ghost00]

You got mail 💌

Let’s find out what the person on your mind has to say to you. Pick one of the following emojis and discover your reading.

🌍 🩵 🌄 🤠

Group 1 🌍

I may not show it to you but I am really happy we met. Everyday with you feels like a new adventure. Though we are worlds apart and so different from each other, I really feel like we match perfectly. You make me feel like I belong. Every moment spent with you is so much fun. It makes me want to jump forward and explore. You are so sweet and generous, so playful that I can’t help but to play along. I feel so lucky being with you. There is so much I want to do with you. I want to hang out with you and get to know you more. Maybe we could have a couple drinks, play in a park, have a little date by the river… if you wish. I feel so boring compared to you. With me, everything is always black and white. But you, my love, are so colorful and bright. I wish we were a family. I wish I could wake up in the morning to find you sitting at the table, eating breakfast with a smile on your face. I wish I could share with you my favorite spots and take you to every place I get to see. I wish I could find a way to express all that you mean to me. I tend to see the glass half empty. But when I’m with you I want to believe everything is possible. You have filled my cup with your love and I am so thankful for that. I can’t find the words to tell you how much I owe to you. You’ve made me a better person and I feel like I could never return the favor.

Group 2 🩵

I may look like all is well and fine but to tell you the truth I feel hollow. And I could use some fun. I always seem so busy, always the life of the party, making everybody laugh and ensuring they have a good time. But deep inside, it’s getting tough. As the days go by, I feel my energy depleting and my motivation as well. I don’t even know why I do this anymore. I force myself for the sake of keeping appearances but honestly I’m not sure I like it at all. I’m afraid that if you dig deep enough, you wouldn’t like what you find there. I am much more fragile than I seem. Also much more mellow and soft when I get the chance. But lately I’m more of a zombie than anything. I don’t think I could bring you much joy nor comfort. I’m afraid I’ve turned bitter. It’s all about work and making sure the money gets in and less about enjoying what I’m doing. I need to pay the bills. There’s competition around. I can’t afford to lose. Everyone’s counting on me. People look up to me. I sacrificed a lot to get there. I can’t back down now. Who would I be if I did? I can’t disappoint. It’s all a masquerade but it’s for a cause. It might not look great to you but it means a lot to me. So, sorry if I’m acting cold but… it’s all for you baby. Don’t go thinking I found someone better. Believe me I don’t have the time for that.

Group 3 🌄

Hold on a minute ! I know what you’re gonna think. What the heck is he/she saying? But hey, let me explain you’ll get it ! I may not be the strongest, the wisest or the most impressive of them all but one thing that’s sure about me is that I only have good intentions for you. I am ready to fight for you if that must be done. Thought I’m not good at that. Listen, my point is I really like you. I want to be with you, have fun with you, chat with you. I want us to take our time and get to know each other and hopefully to grow old together but that’s another story. With you I feel like a kid again. Sometimes, I gotta say, the feeling can be irritating. But at the same time it is freeing. I don’t have to chose a side. I don’t have to act a certain way to be accepted by you or understood. And that’s crazy! I’ve never experienced that before. Usually I would try to conform and play nice, show my best side and stick to the plan. But ever since I met you I want to free myself of those restraints. I want to find my home. I want to express my full potential without fearing being rejected or not belonging. I know you’ll never kick me out. Because you are the same aren’t you? The things I’ve seen, what I’ve been through, you’ve been there as well, right? I want to make a promise to you. Whatever comes our way, I swear I won’t run away. Even though it is scary and seems impossible, I will always work hard and do my best to make it. I may not be exactly your type or what you imagined a partner should be, but I am willing to learn. I am willing to tune to your melody and shelter whatever we may build together, not matter how unstable it may seem. I want you to feel comfortable with me. I want you to feel as safe with me as I feel with you. So if you’ll let me, let me fulfill that promise. You won’t regret it.

Group 4 🤠

To be honest, at first I didn’t get the best of vibes from you. I was a little intimidated and didn’t want to get to know you. Especially considering what people were saying about you. But I tried to see past your exterior and once I got to know you I found out that you were very chill. Maybe it was because I didn’t know you. Maybe I feared the unknown territory you represented. Maybe I was just afraid of going deep. But curiosity got the best of me. And luckily for both of us I stayed around long enough to make my own opinion. And I have to say that you are quite surprising. I won’t lie, being with you asks a lot of efforts on my part. But every second spent with you is worth it. In your presence, I feel comfortable. Being with you reminds me of my childhood. I think of my mother and my family, of the days we spent together before I moved away and followed the wind where it took me. Every page of our story takes me deeper within. I see sides of myself I never noticed or didn’t want to remember. I remember the innocent days where doing something new weren’t as terrifying and meeting new people sounded like a thrill. Being with you I feel blessed and content. There’s a light heartedness and a warmth in my heart I wouldn’t trade for anything. When I’m alone at home you’re all I think about. When I’m at work also. There isn’t a single moment when you’re not on my mind. When I’m with you I feel hopeful. I think that maybe life isn’t as tough as I thought it would be. That maybe there is more waiting for me. Please, show me more of your different sides. Tell me more about what makes you happy. Let me in and let me see for myself what you are made of. I’m begging you don’t shut me out. I want more of you.

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 49 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 48.1 | lesson 48.2 | lesson 49.2

now...

it's CANON that he knows he can't cook

so why the fuck 😭

luke :(((( baby :((((((((

i'm glad simeon is finally opening up though. luke being able to event talk to simeon about (before simeon himself, mind you) this proves that he's more than mature enough to have conversations like this. i love seeing how much he's grown since the beginning of the game

didn't take a screenshot of this bc i can only post 10 pictures per post, BUT i'm glad the fact that raphael showed up out of nowhere wasn't glossed over bc why is he here ??? respectfully

this is why simeon don't talk to nobody 😭 y'all can't take SHIT seriously

but in all honesty i'd just shut down and stop talking bc i get overwhelmed easily

but oh luke...

i hope he takes this as a "hm maybe the celestial realm isn't as good as it seems, maybe things aren't just black and white" instead of immediately jumping to "no simeon's too kind to be a demon bc all demons are mean and they suck", but i feel like the devs are gonna go with the latter simply bc they love giving luke development and then ripping it away seconds later

(for context, the other response was something along the lines of "he really cried his eyes out, huh?")

regardless of how much luke has grown and matured, he's still a kid. like, a kid kid. they cry when they're upset, when they're angry, when they're throwing a tantrum, and when theyre confused and/or overwhelmed. i feel like the latter might be the case with luke, which is why i chose the "i'm sure he'll be ok" option

more on this here

they're making it sound like simeon is queer/trans and honestly...i'm here for it. but that's partially bc i fall under both umbrellas. i love projecting 🫶🏽

i do wish it were this easy to come out and have your family/friends accept you bc it was a doozy for me 🫠

ANYWAYS

angst. give me more. PLEASE

i'm just so so glad that he's actually opening up. in the past, it felt like every time we get a crumb of vulnerability, he'd shut back down and act like everything was okay. idk if it's because he's more comfortable in his identity and place in the world, or his place in mc and the brothers' life, but he's more prone to actually talking about what's bothering him. it makes me happy

...this makes me a little less happy

ik simeon his his qualms with the celestial realm, but all in all, he probably still sees the place as his home and the people there as his family

what if this whole arc ends with the celestial realm opening its gates to (certain) demons? what if the boys get to visit their old home for the first time in literal millenia? and what if they get to show satan around?

idk y'all i'm trying to be hopeful, but hope can only get you so far when it comes to this game 😭

development at its finest

not focusing on a way to "fix" simeon, but to help deal with the situation at hand despite and because of simeon's condition

...ig the angst could only last for so long. back to the nerdy shit

[catboygretzky]

Do I even want to know what happened in the last 24 hours 😭 I'm almost afraid to ask but I'm also insanely curious

You probably don't want to know but I'll tell you because you have no choice. This will be long and...awful. But there are sources so that's fun! Please keep in mind that this was all released within 24 hours on Thursday, September 20th, 2024 and that, unfortunately, I haven't mentioned everything.

But! The GOP was certainly having a wild one yesterday.

To start things off:

The first 'Big News' to break was about Mark Robinson.

For those saying 'who the fuck is Mark Robinson', he's the current (R) Lt. Gov of North Carolina that is running for Gov. Before yesterday, he was best known for openly hating LGBT+ and Jewish folks, being a Holocaust denier, being (forcefully) anti abortion, saying it was better when women couldn't vote, anti immigrant, hating the civil rights movement, etc, just being a hateful Evangelical nasty fascist. MAGA to his core. Trump has endorsed him, saying he should be cherished and calling him "MLK on steroids". (Robinson is Black).

So, yeah, that's bad enough right? Yesterday it got even worse. CNN released a report about some comments he made on a porn site forum 12 years ago, the most prominent being 'i'm a black NAZI'. He also commented that he wished slavery was legal and that he'd own a few, and called himself a 'perv' that used to 'peep' on women in public locker rooms when he was a teenager.

Also the tale as old as time that I'm sure you could guess when I mentioned 'GOP' 'loudly transphobic' and 'porn site scandal' - trans porn was a favourite of his. Because of course.

Also of course - the GOP hasn't taken him off the ticket, and he will continue to be the nominee for governor in North Carolina!

Read the article, there's more about him and the situation in general. Mind the warnings.

-

Now on to our favourite worm brained bear eating anti vaxxer conspiracy theorist, Robert F. Kennedy Junior! I'm putting this under a read more now.

The first thing to drop about him yesterday was the news of an investigation after he allegedly cut off the head of a dead whale and took it home 20 years ago. Now I bet you're thinking, wow that's bad! Unfortunately for RFK Jr yesterday got worse. It was then revealed that he (70) was having an affair with right wing journalist Olivia Nuzzi (31) after New York Magazine suspended her.

Everything I learn about RFK Jr I learn against my own will.

-

Saying goodbye to RFK for now, let's move on to Rep. Matt Gaetz of Florida! This Matt Gaetz, with the botox if you didn't recognise him.

Scary lookin, right?

This isn't a completely new story (here's an article about how he alledgedly paid for sex with a minor) but new court filings were released yesterday alledging that he attended a drug-fueled sex party in 2017 with the 17-year-old girl at the center of the alleged sex trafficking scandal.

Sure is great to have such trustworthy men representing this country!

OKAY, on to the next.

-

This wasn't really breaking news because this is just Trump being Trump but he gave a speech at an ANTI ANTISEMITISM EVENT where he preemptively blamed the Jews for being the reason he'll lose this election, telling them they need to get their head checked if they vote for Harris (that's pretty much part of his stump speech by now though) and saying he'll reinstate his Muslim ban. White fascist blaming Jews? Wow, I did Nazi that coming.

-

I genuinely could go on, I really truly could.

Oh! Kamala Harris went on Oprah and it was really nice and not at all insane and she talked to the family of the first known victim of Trump's abortion ban and it was very touching. Trump's official social media then posted a clip of her talking about her gun and saying 'If somebody breaks into my house, they're getting shot' like it was a snatch when in reality Republicans in the comments are saying 'actually, this would make me vote for her'. Thanks, Trump Team for the free advertising!

Misc:

Chris Rufo (known racist and anti immigration right wing activist) got revealed to have an illegal immigrant wife, and then got revealed to be a user of Ashley Madison (database where people go to cheat on their partners)(Robinson was also on Ashley Madison).

Jasmine Crockett during her thing and ripping white republicans to shreds. (idk this was just fun to me)

Actually Republicans and Project 2025 got ripped to shreds and shut down in general by multiple Congress members.

GOP is on the brink of causing a government shutdown, because of COURSE they are.

Cards Against Humanity sues SpaceX over “invasion” of land on US/Mexico border.

Anyway there's actually MORE believe it or not but I can't remember if it happened yesterday. Thank you for reading, I'm always open to discussing current events. I don't think it's a well known fact that I'm into politics because I don't talk about it on tumblr because people are kinda stupid. Anyway!

[blackbat05]

Biggest Supporter

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: Your week has been difficult and the emotions start to pile up on you. Luckily, Jason has the perfect plan for a Friday evening self-care.

Genre: PG-13, Comfort

A/N: Wrote this one shot when I should have been sleeping🤡 The week has not been the easiest and you know my style… writing to release the steam. I hope you still enjoy and that it brings some sort of comfort if you’re struggling as well. Reblogs appreciated!

This week was really not it.

You were almost reaching the end of the week, where you could taste the sweetness of a Friday when shit had to hit the fan.

First, the kids weren’t listening to you as you tried to conduct story time. You tried to be assertive and authoritative as possible but frustrating was only the one word out of many that you had at the end of the day.

The next day wasn’t any better as you had to sit through a meeting that left a bitter taste on your tongue. You felt eyes on you as you walked around the campus but tried to keep your head up high.

Then, it happened.

You had to stop an actual physical fight in the library.

Unsuccessfully should be the prerogative word.

Teachers came out of the staff room like bees attracted to honey- or screaming in this case and you had never felt more embarrassed. Still, you had a job to do. Reporting and crowd control.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. You kept trying to tell yourself that the suggestions were out of goodwill. But it didn’t help when you kept replaying it in your head and they sounded uglier by the second. As if it was directed at you and your incompetence.

It took a lot to squash down your anxiety and insecurity to back where it rightfully belonged. But you were valid to be upset at the injustice you were facing. You wished you had quicker comebacks at the remarks instead of a weak defense that only made you sound like you were just making excuses.

No. You had to be strong, you had to believe that you were doing the right thing all this while. The air felt thick again and you were glad when school ended and you could leave earlier on a Friday.

As you head down the stairs, you see a familiar motorbike parked next to the security guard post and a mop of black hair with a tinge of white.

“Jason!” You waved happily as you reached the bottom.

“Hey princess.” He opens his arms for a hug which you gladly accept. “Looks like I got here in time.”

“You have no idea.” You groan into his chest, earning a chuckle from him.

Waving goodbye to Sam, the friendly guard, the two of you prepare to set off on his bike and straight into the weekend.

The ride was everything you needed. The gust of fresh air was a much welcome reprieve. Suddenly, the emotions from the week start to swell in your chest and you fight the urge to cry by leaning further into Jason’s back.

“Let it out!” Jason yells to make himself heard over the howling wind as you zoom across the expressway. “You’ll feel better!”

So you do. You let your tears run even if it means you’ll probably look like a puffy eyed demon when you reach your destination.

It wasn’t easy, coming to this point of your job. You knew how hard you had to fight for everything that you had achieved so far. You made sure to not make the same mistakes and all was going well.

That is why you absolutely hated the fact that this week had rattled you very badly that it dredged up old wounds.

Blinking away your tears, the bike slows down and you find yourself in front of a Korean Restaurant that you’ve always wanted to visit.

“You’re too good to me.” You thanked Jason, still riding high on all the emotions. But you didn’t care about putting them on display because Jason was the only one who knew and understood what you were feeling.

“I did nothing.” Jason is modest and guides you inside the restaurant, ready for a sumptuous and hearty meal of spicy stew.

As you wait for the pot to boil, Jason looks at you through the rising steam as you recount to him your week. He doesn’t interrupt, making the right reactions at the appropriate times.

“You did everything you could. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Jason says as you finish. “I wasn’t there but you sounded really badass.” He tries to lift the mood, earning a small smile from you even though you don’t say anything.

Jason frowns. “What did your boss say?”

“She said that it was beyond my control and I did everything that I could.” You sigh. “But maybe they’re right. I have to be stricter than these incidents will stop happening.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Jason is firm. “You’re not at fault. Did you do what Macy did the last time?” He asks, referring to your recent librarian and supervisor who left the job to go to Spain with her family.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to change it too drastically.” You respond and Jason nods as if all this was logical.

“Exactly. You did what she’s supposed to do. You’re continuing what she is doing. And if anyone has any smart-ass opinions, tell them to take it up to management themselves instead of directing their anger at the wrong place.” Jason becomes more heated by the second and you can’t help but to be a little amused by this. You’re grateful for a loyal best friend like him.

“I’m serious! If this happened previously before you came, then it’s not on you.” Jason insists. “And! Where was the help when you needed it! Do more fights have to happen before you get reinforcements?” He rattles off, taking a big gulp of water from the cup.

“Thanks Jaybird.” You take his bowl and pour some stew in. “I knew I could count on you to be on my side.”

“Always. Besides, you couldn’t do any wrong.”

You laughed, taking a sip of the comforting stew that instantly made your worries go away for that moment.

“But I’m serious.”

“About what?” You ask.

“That you’re doing a great job.” Jason states. “Not because I’m trying to humor you,” he clarifies. “I think you’ve went out of your way to try to fill that empty gap as much as possible for these kids. Considering what you went through back then, you could have just taken a back seat.”

As Jason’s encouragement spills out from the bottom of his heart, you realized that was all you needed. That despite shitty moments, someone told you that you did your best, and that was all that mattered.

“So don’t think about it too much alright? At least not tonight. Because we are going to have the best meal of our lives!” Jason declares, ordering a soju bomb. You protest at that but he waves the concerns away, mischievously waving a black credit card which you could only assume belonged to one person.

“Only for my best girl.” He grins, offering to clink glasses with you. “To being your biggest supporter and shitting on shit people!” He raises his voice, earning some stares from other patrons, causing you to giggle.

“Cheers! To trusting myself and not listening to shit people!”

Jason roars with delight at your loose lipped declaration and pours you another drink, continuing the carefree evening with good food, good laughter and the best company.

Yeah, you were going to be okay.

[sanjoongie]

ȶɦɛ ʄɨռǟʟ ɖǟʏ օʄ ʄǟȶɛ

🍷my submission for the Permevent for @cultofdionysusnet

🍷Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (f), side character Choi Jongho

🍷Genre: smut

🍷Au: cult au, party au

🍷Trope: god/worshipper, (slight e2l with Jongho)

🍷Rating: 18+, MDNI

🍷Word Count: 3,067

🍷Warnings: Drinking! (it is the cult of dionysus after all). The reader and wooyoung do not get drunk. there is NO drunk sex without consent. mentions of toys (m), usage of toys (f), masturbation (jongho is the object of desire for this), exhibitionism, public sex, voyeurism, shower sex, 69, slight manhandling

🍷Summary: During your initiation into the cult of dionysus, you find your rival Jongho there. You also find Wooyoung, the host aka Dionysus. Who knows what kind of debauchery you could get into?

🍷Author's note: This is my final submission for a cultofdionysusnet event. Today is my last day as a founding admin and member of the net. Once upon a time, a net rejected me because of my age. Rie and Ki came together with myself so that we could make a net that had no age cap. Although I will no longer be a part of the net, I will always appreciate what was done for me. I wish my members a muse filled writing life. This is my final sign off as admin Atropos Topaz 💞🍷

🍷divider provided by @cafekitsune

It had taken you years, a few books, and a signing tour but you had finally made it: you were an initiate to the Cult of Dionysus. The prestigious club, extremely elusive and exclusive, had only the most established creatives of our current decade as members. And now that included you.

You had received a burgundy and gold invitation at your abode one night and you squealed loudly. It had simply a location on the card, which was a vineyard in Greece. You even bought a white toga-like dress to wear to the function. You could only imagine the debauched devilry that this gathering was going to include. Besides, being able to rub elbows with some of the most elite minds, of course.

You had heard rumors, who hadn't? In your line of profession, there were always whispers of the best of the best being tapped for a club and then their star shooting even further in their respective profession. Last year, you had been jealous when another author had a huge publishing house offer them a contract, only to find out it was because of their connections with the Cult of Dionysus.

Now it was your turn to shine bright and get everything your greedy heart desired.

What you had not expected, when you arrived at the function and were given a bag of liquid by a gold-painted, naked server, was to be walking down an aisle of the vineyard with a… dildo. You slung the wineskin around your shoulder as if it was a purse with a strap and entered the backyard of the villa that hosted the vineyard.

“Bacchanalia has been banned since 186 BC but that has never stopped our people from indulging despite society trying to restrict us.”

The current ‘Dionysus’, as the host of the current Bacchanalia was so fondly called, was Jung Wooyoung. The famous playwright, dressed in all black like he was rebelling against the white attire of the remainder of the members, swung his arms out open as he spoke.

“That is exactly why we still retain some of our predecessors' rituals,” Wooyoung paused for dramatic effect. “Like the phallic procession.”

Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd. Wooyoung grinned in excitement, “How could we be the Cult of Dionysus without the orgies, right my friends?”

Some more hoots came from the crowd in response.

More gold-painted servers came around with a tray of dildos. You were about to pick up a tentacled one when another hand grabbed it. You went to glare at the owner of said hand and sighed.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Jongho drawled.

Choi Jongho, another author, and your direct competition, was the last person you wanted to see here. “How about we pretend to not know each other.”

Jongho snorted. “Fine by me.”

You instead grabbed a bright neon blue dildo from the tray. Goddamn Choi Jongho.

“We will begin the phallic procession and it will be followed by a drinking contest amongst our initiates. The wineskin that you have been given upon entering will be what you will be chugging down.” Wooyoung chuckled deeply at the next part. “Whoever loses the drinking contest will be giving us a private showing of their talents with their chosen dildo. We all remember San’s performance last year, right?”

Choi San, a well-known new age poet, looked down at the ground and dug his toe in the ground. Imagery of the sharp eyes and even sharper cheek boned man bouncing on a dildo in front of a crowd raced through your mind. You had to chase it away, so you could focus back on Wooyoung and what he was saying.

“If all our initiates would please make their way to the vineyard, we can begin the procession, initiates last.”

You thought you might feel weird holding a dildo by its base with your hand bracing it and your other hand wrapped around it, but there was something about the solidarity and silence of the almost ritual-like moment that changed your mind. The stars in the sky shone brightly. Grapes hung heavy from the vines. You truly felt like you were becoming an initiate of the cult of old; as if you truly stepped from the vineyard and would find yourself in Ancient Greece.

You were a member of this illustrious group now and you planned on drinking up every moment, no pun intended.

At the end of the vineyard, the current members were all gathered in a rough semicircle that closed when all the initiates finished their procession. The initiates and yourself stood in a line.

Wooyoung clapped to get everyone’s attention, standing at the apex of the circle of people. “You can put your phallic instruments down and let the drinking game begin.”

Servers placed trays in front of you, so as to not dirty up the dildos, and then everyone took the wineskins in their hands. You unpopped the cork and looked down the line on either side of you. Jongho was a few people down from you and he was already smirking. The man could drink his weight in alcohol and still hold his own, so he knew he wasn’t going to lose.

What you didn’t think he understood was that to lose this game was to win. Clearly all the members had been impressed by San’s performance last year. You knew this because the poet had had an amazing year after his initiation to the cult. You had originally thought it was just because of his entrance to the cult but you were sure now it was because of what he did during his initiation that gained him so much prestige.

So you had made a decision: you were deliberately going to lose the game.

“Ready?” Wooyoung announced with a gleam in his eye, holding his hand up like he was one of those girls signalling to go for a car race. “Drink!”

You held the wineskin up to your lips and swallowed dry. You let a little wine spill down your cheeks. But as other initiates finished theirs, the crowd hollering in triumph, at last you were the final initiate.

“Ah,” Wooyoung said with mock chagrin. “It seems another creative mind of the written word has lost the drinking game. You’re carrying on a tradition, it seems.”

You attempted to look deflated and Wooyoung clapped you on the back. “I’m sure you’ll put on a great show,” he said loudly before leaning in and whispering in your ear. “I’ll be watching.”

Once again, a gold-painted server came with a soft blanket. They laid out the blanket for you in the middle of the loose circle of members, the initiates blending into said circle. They offered you your dildo and then melted back into the shadows as they had been doing the entire evening.

Your stage was set, it was just up to you to live up to the performance now.

Luckily, it wasn’t hard for you to get wet and excited with a crowd. Your exhibitionism had gotten you into trouble plenty when you were in your wild and youthful phase, but the kink had never expired as you got older.

The second part that made this a little bit easier and little bit sexier, was imagining someone who you despised fucking you good. So when you moved to your knees, pulled up your toga-like dress, pulled aside your panties and pushed the head of the dildo along your already-wet folds, and moaned in pleasure, you slowly opened your eyes to make eye contact with none other than Choi Jongho.

And the man, for the first time since you’ve been aware of his existence, looked away first.

You imagined Jongho would drink in the way you reacted to him. Dragging his cockhead through your folds, circling your clit, making you beg for him to penetrate you. You played the dildo against your body, imagining the smirking, golden author above you. He may be your rival but he certainly was an atractive mother fucker.

You yanked one side of your dress to reveal one of your breasts and immediately pinched your nipple between your forefinger and thumb. You yanked it and twisted it, sure Jongho would want you to make as many pretty noises as you could for him. Jongho would be rough but accurate in his pleasure with you, presumably of course.

Finally, you sank down on the electric blue dildo. You were so wet that it barely went in with resistance but you did let out a pathetic whine as you were filled. You arched your back as you took the dildo to the hilt. You didn’t leave any time, eager for the pleasure that was being offered, both imaginary and real.

“That’s it, take me in your eager hole,” Imaginary Jongho hissed in your ear quietly.

You moaned and bounced eagerly on the dildo. You didn’t dare open your eyes again, in case you broke the pleasure bubble you were living in currently. But you did hope everyone’s eyes were on you.

Because of the situation, or perhaps due to the scenario playing on in your head, it wasn’t long as the dildo rubbed the spongy spot inside of you and you came undone for everyone in the loose circle around you. You cried out, throwing your head back, and riding that dildo for all it was worth.

With your head tilted back, panting, you were unsure if you had enough energy to even open your eyes.

Then you felt something touch your lips, and on instinct, you opened them up. Cold, pure water entered your lips, and you hummed in contentment.

When you at last opened your eyes wearily, you saw that it was Wooyoung that was gifting you with water. His own eyes were dark and trained solely on your face.

“You did well.”

A shiver shot down your spine at the praise. You could tell that was Wooyoung’s intent by the half-smirk that graced his lips.

He offered you a hand and you gratefully took it. Wooyoung draped his cloak over you, covering your body.

“Trying to outdo San’s performance, I see,” Wooyoung teased you.

You followed him as the rest of the members of the cult dispersed amongst the outdoor set up. Some were already in compromising positions, and even though you yourself had just performed, you avoided watching what was going on. The less inner circle secrets you knew, the less you had to lie about.

“Can I escort you to the villa? There are several bathrooms that you could clean yourself up in.”

Wooyoung was offering for you to become less dirty but somehow the cadence in his tone let you know he was only thinking of more dirty scenarios.

“I would be honored by the honorary Dionysus,” You smiled happily.

Wooyoung waved away your statement with mock humility. “Oh, please.”

Nonetheless, Wooyoung guided you with subtle pushes on the small of your back until you both made your way back through the vineyard. Your legs were a wee bit wobbly but you were sure the trek would be worth it.

It seemed a few others had the same idea. You spotted Yeosang, the famous cellist, in a dark corner, someone sucking on the sensitive skin of his neck. Mingi the oil painting specialist was filming himself fucking someone. Hongjoong, a newly risen sculptor, was admiring someone’s curves and skin with his hands. So much for not knowing what was going on with the inner circle.

Wooyoung finally brought you to a lavish bathroom, the stand up shower having multiple heads on different walls.

After completely ditching his clothing, Wooyoung stepped inside, putting the water on. He adjusted the temperature and offered you a hand in. You eagerly pushed your toga dress off, along with Wooyoung’s cloak, and stepped into the warm water with the bronze god.

You weren’t sure exactly when Wooyoung had assumed the mantle of the host of the party, but when there seemed to be a fuzzy, golden line that covered his skin, you knew something was different.

“You need not be afraid,” Wooyoung grinned, full of boyish amusement.

You gasped in delight when you saw that his eyes were the most wonderfully deep burgundy color of a dark, red wine. “Wooyoung?”

“You are the chosen initiate to first receive his Gift,” Wooyoung raised an attractive eyebrow. “Do you accept it?”

You immediately knelt beneath the rain shower head, water falling around you, head bowed. “With your pleasure, I would receive the blessing of the Muse.”

Wooyoung cupped your chin and pushed up, to signal for you to rise.

“So it shall be,” he whispered seductively against your lips and then pressed them together.

You felt a thrill, a buzz, a jolt of energy travel through you. You squealed in surprise and glee. Wooyoung tossed his head back and cackled, a full belly laugh full of excitement. “I knew we chose right.”

Wooyoung held your head between both his hands, kissing you in the shower. You wrapped a leg around his hip. Wooyoung’s full erect cock pressed between your legs and you whimpered at the interaction.

Without breaking the kiss, Wooyoung gently played his cockhead against your folds, just like you had guided the blue dildo to do earlier. You appreciated the kindness of Wooyoung, for you had played with yourself quite roughly and were now sensitive and puffy down below.

“I bet you taste sweeter than any of the wine we offer,” Wooyoung said in a throaty voice.

You put a firm hand on Wooyoung’s muscled shoulder. “You will not be tasting me without allowing me to return the favor.”

That’s how you found the two of you on the warm tiles of the shower, Wooyoung on his back and you hovering over his glorious body. Your mouth played along the side of Wooyoung’s cock, until you came to the peak, and then encompassed his cock in your mouth. The heaviness on your tongue was like heaven. Wooyoung’s hands tugged on your legs, maneuvering for you to sit even further down on his face, so that his tongue could swirl around your clit.

Wooyoung called for a halt suddenly, strong, veined hands wrapping around your wrists before you could make him spill his seed inside of your mouth.

“I will not do you a disservice,” Wooyoung growled.

You watched on with curiosity as he switched your positions, allowing him to manhandle you until you were below him on the sweaty tiles. The water continued to flow, making the entire bathroom fill with steam. Wooyoung’s elbows held his body above you. His hair clung to his face, making you want to reach up and push his hair out of his face.

Wooyoung once again held onto your wrist. He gripped the both of them in his hand and held your hands against your chest. Wooyoung’s head dipped between your head and shoulder, to lick and kiss up your neck. “If I don’t deliver my gift, I will simply go crazy.”

You bucked your hips upwards. “Please, Wooyoung. I’m ready.”

Wooyoung, as if he had done it a million times, pulled back his hips and easily slid into you. The slide of his cock inside of you made you moan wantonly. You weren’t sure if it was because he was possessed by Dionysus himself, the god of wine and pleasure, but everything felt SO good. Every drag of his cock, every thrust of his hips against yours, spoke of your nerves alighting.

Wooyoung’s whines and moans against your skin were like music to your ears. He sounded desperate and delicious at the same time. “So good,” he moaned as he picked up the pace.

Neither of you were drunk on wine, but the both of you seemed to be drunk off each other. Your hips continued to rise upwards in order to meet Wooyoung’s thrusts. Wooyoung sounded pussy drunk off you, whimpering about how warm and wet and good your pussy was for him.

“Soon, please let it be soon, I’m--” Your words were swallowed by Wooyoung’s kisses. His lips were wet, from both the moisture in the air and his spit.

All you were left with were your own cries crescendoing into a cacophony of pleasure as your climax escalated. When your climax hit you, it was like you saw stars. You floated in a feeling of pure bliss, your pussy lips clenching along Wooyoung’s length as you rode out your pleasure.

You opened your eyes to find Wooyoung watching you carefully. “And now, for the pièce de résistance.”

If you thought your climax was the cherry on top, you had been sorely mistaken. Wooyoung’s thrusts were choppy and sloppy but it wasn’t too long before he came inside of you. You could feel his cum fill you up, swirling around in your insides, but it was more than that. It felt warm, it felt powerful and then you gasped when your own skin lit up with the soft golden light that had been filling Wooyoung.

Even though Wooyoung’s nose was scrunched up from his climax, he still gasped his final words, performing as Dionysus’ proxy. “The muse will be with you for only a few days, so use it wisely. I look forward to reading what you come up with.”

And then he collapsed on top of you.

You laughed, giddy and full of excitement. You had just had probably the best sex of your life AND you were about to write your next great novel?

Wooyoung followed with his sweet laughter twinkling in the air, albeit sounding a little tired.

“Perhaps my novel might do so well that Seonghwa will want to direct a movie based on it!” You thought out loud, stars in your eyes already. You should use your Cult of Dionysus connections well, after all.

Wooyoung raised his head, the look on his face of pure betrayal. “No no no, he’d ruin it. Let me write a Broadway play for you. That would do it much better justice.” Wooyoung momentarily got a cocky look on his face. “Besides, that would give you an excuse to be in the theatre to watch its opening night with yours truly.”

The night was far from completed, but you already won over the cult, Wooyoung, and a god himself. Things could only go up from here.

[this-is-exorsexism]

being excluded from a lot of trans conversations because not only are you nonbinary, you are also black and afab and a lot of conversations are geared towards white trans people . black women / fems are so often left out , sexualised for their femininity or demonized for their masculinity and it is tiring. i just left a very abusive relationship and to know that my femininity was taken advantage of, when all my life i'd been presenting hypermasculinely to prevent this and it did not work is crushing. now i have to deal with hypermasculine and hyperfeminine compulsions and it hurts. i fear i will never feel safe being feminine, but i am too curvy to present masculine and too feminine to truly be neutral without scrutiny. when will it ever be safe for black trans people? people like me? this is a nightmare i wish would end.

this is exorsexism.

[tojifile]

@Satosugu . . . ( ´ ꒳ ` )

Tags: NBAstars!satosugu, model!reader (f!), fluff, suggestive, pining, competitive!satosugu, no curse au, 2018 style plot, surreal (obvious-fucking-ly)

A/N: I knowwwwww, it’s been A WHILE, I wish I could write more and do more, but I just don’t have the energy to. I have the time now but ykkkkkkk I still don’t feel like it unfortunately. BUT I did feel very ngh today! So I’ll write another satosugu x reader fic! OH AND I PROMISE TO WRITE MORE OF THE PROTECTOR I LOVE ALL OF YOU WHO LOVE IT!!! 🩷🩷 I can’t believe it’s been a year since I started it… no individual pics cz I’m too lazy… love u baesss (SHOULD I CHANGE MY USER TO ‘ MAUGURU ‘ ???)

Links: Masterlist , pt1

NBAstars!satosugu who swear that they don’t try to one up each other, it just so happens that each and every time one of them hangs out with you, the other has to have you to himself as well. You love their attention, of course you would. The real question was, who wouldn’t?

NBAstar!satoru who insists that the catering in the cafeteria of their home court isn’t good enough so you almost always have to pack him lunch. You don’t mind this much since he’d always thank you with such a pretty smile, excited to taste your cooking.

NBAstar!suguru who got jealous after finding out you packed Satoru a bento but not him. He ignored you when he got home after he first found out. Slowly, you coaxed him into revealing the truth behind his silent treatment; but of course, he lied.

“Sugu, what’s wrong?” you asked him lovingly, like a doting wife. Satoru snickered from behind, he knew exactly why Suguru was in a bad mood.

“Nothing.” Suguru harshly stated. Because of this, you decided to stand in front of him, he was wearing a white shirt and black athletic shorts, manspreading on the couch with his chin propped on his palm with his elbow on his knee to support the weight.

You peppered his face with sweet kisses, he loved them, which made Satoru scowl. “No fucking fair!!!” He yelled childishly, which finally coaxed Suguru in telling you the “truth.”

Just a super short au fic… I just wanted to get this posted since I missed Tumblr :(

—

@toxicramune @oh-my-beel @nymphsdomain @morinuu @sweetcoorpse @asqmi @xavlyzn @justcallmesakira – Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist!

[marzipanandminutiae]

I’m very sorry if ten people have messaged you about this already, but I’m really excited! Have you SEEN the new Edith boots from American Duchess??? I can picture her wearing the white and black ones for traveling, walking around the Pan-American Expo, etc

I have. They’re nice, but I honestly wish AD would do something practical but fem from before the 1890s again, for 19th century. I feel like everything they do nowadays is turn-of-the-century and has those pointed toes, which are just not my thing. I have two pairs of their shoes/boots with them, and I guess they’re fine, but I posted earlier about my quest for the earlier 19 century, almost dainty looking rounded-toe heeled boots they used to make. They haven’t done anything in that style in a while, besides the Floras which I love but which have that embroidery that makes them need special care, and it’s kind of frustrating since I like that better

It’s easy to find pointy-toed “granny boots” online. It’s the earlier Victorian stuff that I struggle with, and that I would be more willing to pay top dollar for since almost no one does it, you know?

I also really wish, if they were going to make a shoe called the Edith, they would copy the boots that were reproduced for the actual movie:

(late 1870s boots from the FIDM museum that would probably still have been stylish in the mid 1890s when most of Edith’s clothing dates from despite the movie being set in 1901, left, and the ones made for Mia in the movie, right)

The Ediths We DeserveTM. Much harder to find than black pointy toed boots with white faux spats, IMO

[orbitariums]

nerd/geek! patrick x black!reader

dirty stinky patrick this manipulative toxic patrick that. WHAT ABOUT stinky nerd/geek patrick who’s more akin to stephen nedorosckik (olympics horse boy) except he doesn’t do any sports he just plays call of duty in his dorm all day and gets his bayonetta ass glasses dirty and slugs out on pizza with his boy art.

he’d actually be really hot if he changed his shirt once in a while (you know he’s wearing a grey “find x” t-shirt or some other shirt with silly puns on it every other day) and washed his hair more frequently. you’re paired with him for a project late in the semester and he has to pretend he hasn’t been jacking it to you the whole year — how can he not when you wear the tightest tank tops imaginable paired with the lowest of low-waisted jeans? your favorite combo is a tight white t-shirt with a hot pink bra peeking out underneath it. you sit in front of him in class and he stares at your back, the hint of a bra strap peeking through the tank.

your bangles jingle with every move you make and he can catch a whiff of your burnt vanilla perfume each time you move as well, and it makes his dick stand up under the desk. you’re always coming into class obnoxiously late with your friends, giggling and making too much noise, but it’s you so it doesn’t matter.

you meet him in the library and after you sit down you hastily put on a pair of thick black glasses from a case you leave laying haphazardly on the table, muttering,

“i know i look like such a nerd, ignore those.”

and patrick, who’s spent his entire life with the nerd/geek reputation just stutters,

“uh-no- no, you don’t at all, you look — um…”

you’re looking up at him now with laser focus, your face as close to his as it ever has been and suddenly it seems like your two chairs are way too close together. it looks like you’re critiquing him but really you’re just analyzing him, cocking your head with squinted eyes as you endure his stuttering. he swallows hard and looks away, down at his paper, finally finishing his sentence,

“reallypretty. sorry, that’s-”

“aww,” you coo, smirking just a bit as you finally get the hint. “that’s really nice of you patrick.”

you squeeze his arm and smile innocently when his head jerks to glance down at your pretty hand, well manicured and soft, gripping his forearm. you’ve been pretty your entire life, with a bit of a mean streak, and so you know the telltale signs of attraction from a guy, from anyone really. you hadn’t paid much attention to patrick in the past — why would you? but looking at him now, you saw potential. he was a bit of a fixer upper, but he had this sweet nerdy charm to him that you found really hot, especially if it meant you could get him to do your homework. he wasn’t even that smart, but he was smart enough, and obsessed enough.

“oh… ha,” he laughs nervously. “thanks.”

you distract him the entire session, both by force and just because of your existence. he thinks he’ll die when you reach for something on his side of the table for the third time, practically snaking across him, your tits in his face as you wiggle to reach for a ruler or a pencil you need to borrow. pretends not to be staring when you reapply your lip gloss, fights his smile when you giggle at some stupid joke he makes. its only two hours but he’s pent up by the end of it, fisting his dick while art showers in their room.

groaning stupidly and loud enough to be heard over the water as he comes into his hand, your name peppered inbetween his moans,

“fuck, yn, want your fucking tits smothering me, please ride my dick, i’ll do anything, please please.”

you just might grant him his wish soon enough.

[haveyouanytime]

omg im obsessed with your rust domestic blurbs pls anything with rust braiding reader's hair

not even going to lie... i took a month because i was stuck on a different ask just for it to barely click yesterday... i could answer asks out of order. i wish i was joking i'm very embarrassed ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) anyway more old dog rust !!! <333

Often, you felt like the Louisiana heat got to you like no other. It took a long while to get used to the sheen of sweat that seemed to linger on your skin like an unmoveable force. Hot and humid summers were foreign to you, and it was only then that you missed your cooler Alaskan summer. 

Swimming in the lake was an option, so was standing under the garden hose or the sprinklers. Any and all options led to a reasonable conclusion, a nice shower. The soap and water were like a baptism, washing away any stickiness from your overheated skin, leaving you feeling anew and smelling like lavender (or cedarwood, if you decided to use Rust’s soap). 

But more often than not, the best conclusion was being fresh out of the shower and walking to the living room, finding Rust nursing his usual beer, sitting with his legs in a dominating spread as a black and white movie played on your small TV. His hair was down, a rare sight only you were gifted. His dirty golden locks going a little ways past his shoulders, and it was only a matter of time before he asked you to give him a little trim. His hair tie sat on the wrist of his hand holding the beer, the other holding the back of the couch. He seemed so relaxed, and you hesitated moving to him in hopes of giving him a moment more of the relaxation he deserved but often rejected. 

The creak of the floor gave you away, making Rust turn his head to you. You stood in the doorway to the living room, only in in a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt that was stretched out at the collar, your hair still wet with a few droplets falling onto the shirt. He smirked at the sight, looking at you from over his left shoulder. 

“C’mere, baby,” He croons, his voice raspy from the cigarettes and dark liquor. He places his beer on the neighboring side table as you walk over, perching yourself in his lap. With your legs thrown across his, your arm moving around his back and his holding onto your hip, both of you fell into the familiar embrace. A weary smile pulled at his lips, and his hand moved off of the back of the couch to run through your damp hair, exposing the expanse of your neck. He took advantage of that, leaning in and placing a few soft kisses on the exposed skin. You couldn’t help but let out a small, airy giggle as the kisses traveled down to your collarbones the stretched shirt left bare. 

“Tsk, what’s so funny?” He asked, pulling away to look up at you. It might’ve been the fact that he was in a good mood, or it was the lighting of the room, or the ambiance of the old romantic movie on the TV, but you couldn’t help but admire Rust for a moment. His strong nose. How the warm light of the lamp turned his blue eyes the shade of an unnameable, alluring blue. His cheekbones, his lips, the loose strands of hair that fell in front of his face. 

“Your mustache’s tickly,” You smile, looking down at Rust. You run your own fingers through his hair to push it back, abandoning it at the nape of his neck to brush your pointer finger against his mustache, smoothing it out against the top of his lip. “Gonna need a trim soon, hm?” 

“We’ll worry about that later,” He answered, holding your wrist to give your fingertip a playful nip with his teeth. His hands move to hold your waist, lowly speaking, “C’mon, baby.” You moved with his gentle lead, him scooting back and letting you sit between his spread legs on the sparse space on the couch, your back facing his chest. You felt a smile pull at your lips again, already feeling his fingers moving through your hair. He gently pulled your hair back, forming it all it a small ponytail before his fingers spread it carefully into three parts. 

You remembered the first time he braided your hair, the surprise that you felt that a man so rugged and masculine as he could give you a nice, neat braid. He first gave an excuse of working on the fishing docs in Alaska and something about ropes. It was a few times later that he spoke of his daughter, about how he used to braid her hair. It struck a cord within you, an aching, twinging reminder in your chest of his life far, far before you. The man you loved was an enigma, his heart and mind a labyrinth you wanted to spend years inside of just to truly know him. 

“You’re awful quiet tonight,” Rust spoke up, his fingers moving languidly through your hair to dance it into a nice braid. “You’re normally chirpin’ my ear off, pretty girl.” 

“Just thinking,” You softly answer, adjusting the loose shirt on your shoulders as your eyes rise to the TV. The black and white movie showed a couple embracing at a train station, kissing the way they did in old movies. 

“Careful with that, now,” He playfully cautioned, reaching the end of your hair and carefully looping his dark hair tie around the ends to hold your braid in place. “Don’t get lost up there.” 

“I want to get lost up there,” You answer, turning on his lap again to sit sideways and placing a light tap on his forehead. 

“No, you don’t, pretty girl.” He answered, his voice losing it’s playful edge. He gently holds your wrist, carefully holding you on his lap. “I’ll give you a few peeks now and then, but I don’t want you to travel too far.” 

You couldn’t help but smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing a soft peck on his lips, his mustache tickling your upper lip again. “I’ll take those. Maybe I can convince you to give me a few more peeks.” 

“I know a way you can convince me,” He grinned, scooping you up in his arms. You can’t help but laugh, feeling his mustache tickle your jawline as he carried you through your small house, your arms holding into him just as tight as he held you. 

[luniviravosshipper]

You know what? I know that The Dragon Prince has a lot of flaws, (trust me, I complain a lot about them myself,) but it is genuinely so annoying to see people complain about the supposed lack of nuance and underlying messages in the show when they deliberately try to ignore them. People will literally take things completely at face value and only examine the details in this series on a surface level and then say dumb shit like “thEy MaKE eVErYthIng OUt tO Be BlaCk aNd wHiTE”. Like, of course it’s going to seem that way to you when you’re going out of your way to only try to see everything in the series as being black and white.

As much as I believe that many of the criticisms and critiques TDP receives are absolutely valid, the amount of discourse in this fandom over the same recycled rhetoric used against TDP is astonishingly ridiculous. Like, we should have already gone over this a thousand times. I don’t know how you guys are still so set in your misguided views of this show after 6 to 7 years and 6 seasons. I’m nearly 100% convinced that you guys are just purposely trying to misinterpret the themes of this series to fit your own narrative of how this series has apparently misrepresented the ideas that you personally wish it could portray. Even if those ideas aren’t actually good or make sense for the real focus points and intended takeaways. (Ahem. I’m looking at you guys on the TDP subreddit who somehow use the fact that TDP has trouble depicting the implied historical prejudice the elves have shown towards the humans and how unjust that is as a justification for how dark magic is actually “good” and totally “valid” for the humans to use against the elves in retaliation.)

I’m sorry that this might seem rather harsh. Again, I think a lot of the complaints that have been made already have plenty of value and reasoning behind them. But it is still frustrating to see just so many of the same complaints being made over and over again and not having anyone question their own takes and how there’s a chance that they might be inherently biased.

[best-iwtv-scene]

ROUND 1B, MATCH 5

Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:

Pre-abduction drinks (2x06)

An unspecified amount of time after Madeleine becomes a vampire, she and Claudia return to Paris to meet with Louis and Armand at a cafe. The pair seem content with each other, Madeleine clearly at peace with her vampire nature, and Claudia happier than ever with her companion. Louis, still uneasy after Claudia leaving, is protective of the younger vampire, questioning Madeleine to make sure she is prioritising Claudia like he never quite could. Madeleine can feel Louis's love for both Claudia and Armand through her connection to him, telling both vampires this, which Louis laughs off. He clearly wishes to be happy that Claudia is finally content, but is still in an unsettled place, following Madeleine's turning. Finally, Armand leaves the group to "take a stretch", standing outside as Santiago and several other members of the coven stride into the cafe to abduct Louis, Claudia and Madeleine, restraining them and pushing them into large bags. This scene is a rare moment of joy in the show, bittersweet for viewers due to the dramatic irony of knowing Claudia's fate is looming. "We're going to wander." "Wander? This one? She of the straight line to the next 'X' on the map?" "This is the 'X', Louis."

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

"Can I cry and say that I’m sorry, too?" (2x07)

Enraged by Lestat's apology to Louis for dropping him from the sky, Claudia stumbles onto her feet, despite the deep cuts into her ankles. She shouts at Lestat, the coven and the audience at the injustice of this 'trial', condemning Louis and her for killing a man who is so clearly still alive. After her anger dissipates, she is left with an emptiness, understanding and finally articulating the pain that she has felt throughout her vampiric life: she has never been prioritised by either Louis or Lestat, and the trial certainly isn't going to change that. This scene also highlights the grace given to Lestat, a white man, both in the show and in the fandom, compared to Claudia, a black woman, as Lestat is so often forgiven easily while Claudia is either made to 'earn' this forgiveness or never given it in the first place. She can cry and apologise all she wants but she is not viewed in the same lenient way as Lestat is. The scene is scored by an unreleased track which incorporates elements of Claudia's theme, most intense when she looks back at Louis, highlighting the pair's uneven relationship. "Don't know why I bother. You didn't come here for me. One more round in the stormy romance of you two! Never been about me. I was just a roof shingle that flew off of your house."

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.