#feels good gettin back to my roots

[sinfulforrest]

decided that for my final law of the year, I'm gonna draw him dickin down my sona >:3c

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

[soft-girl-musings]

Salt & Pepper

Moon Knight System x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for teasing, domestic fluff, author does not condone touching people's hair without permission, no use of Y/N

wc: 1,078

fic summary: Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

A/N: i might have a problem lol

_____________________

“Put. It. Down.”

Marc Spector does not startle easily. So when he nearly falls from his perch beside the bathtub, you’re surprised you have to steady him.

“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Marc picks up the towel and small cardboard box he’d dropped because of your outburst.

Shifting your focus, you zero in on the latter: hair dye, just as you’d suspected.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m away?” You tut, cradling his temples and shaking your head. "What happened to you?" 

"What? Nothing, I'm-"

"-I wasn't talking to you," you sigh, resting your forehead against the crown of his head. "How long has he been treating you like this, you poor things?"

“Ha-ha.”

You release his face to study it. "But seriously, how long have you been dying your hair?”

 “... For a couple of years. Started to turn gray from stress a while back, and I guess it never stopped.” He fidgets with the loose edge of the container.. “You really never noticed?”

You take the box and set it beside him. “You hid it well.”

You’re not judging him for dying his hair, it’s just… surprising. Marc’s never been one to fuss over his appearance, as far as you could tell. When you first saw his closet, you’d half expected it to be lined with the same outfit ten times, like in a cartoon. Most days, “dressing up” means adding a jacket or blazer.

 “Since when do you care? About your hair, I mean.” 

He shrugs. “I’m not gettin’ any younger, honey.”

“Neither am I.” You kiss the bridge of his nose. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Goes double for me, don’t you forget it.” Leaning in, Marc tries for another kiss, but you duck and grab the hair dye before turning away with a mischievous smirk.

“Gotta keep you honest,” you wink and dart out of the room before he can catch you.

_____________________

"Love?"

"Hm?"

"Might fall out if you keep playing with it like that.”

You’d been standing behind Steven for the past couple of minutes, meaning to check in on his preparations for his morning tour but had gotten distracted. Very distracted.

“Sorry,” you sigh, your fingers leaving the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and trailing down to his shoulder. “It’s just… hm.”

Your conversation with Marc must have taken root: over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the hair that had been dangerously close to another round of boxed dye abuse steadily turning lighter. A subtle blend of silver strands mix with the darker curls that frame his face, making his hair shine a bit brighter in the light of the desk lamp.

“It’s like starlight,” you finally state, leaning in to rest your head against his.

Steven sputters and puts his book aside. “Starli- that’s a bit much, yeah?” His brow furrows, but there’s no denying the smile tugging at his lips.

“Not if it’s true,” you contend. You adjust the reading glasses that had slid down his face and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s a good look on you.”

There’s no denying the heat rising to his cheeks when you talk. “This– you don’t–” Steven caves and sets his book down, hopelessly flustered. “Either go away or get over here. Cheeky.”

He makes room for you to settle into his lap, which you giddily accept. Your hands sink back into his curls and he shivers as you scratch his scalp.

“Did I ever tell you I had a thing for my professor, once upon a time?”

“Oh my days–” 

You’re not sure who kisses who, but you’re certainly not complaining. Neither is he.

_____________________

The time apart has been agony.

You check your phone for the fifth time this evening. They’ve been gone for what feels like months (it’s been weeks) handling some business in California, of all places. Marc said he’d call when they were on their way home, meaning no news is sad news.

You’re pulled from your pity party by a knock on the door. It’s late, and you’ve already signed for your dinner delivery. Slowly, you get up and grab the bat you keep by the entrance (with a sock slipped over the end per Jake’s advice).

The knocking continues, getting more urgent. You take a deep breath and look through the peephole. A large brown eye stares back and you yelp, dropping your bat. The unmistakable boom of Jake’s belly laughter mocks you from behind the door.

“You’re hilarious,” you groan, standing the bat back on its head and unlocking the door.

You’re ready to lay into him when you open the door, but you’re stunned into silence. Jake’s smile is highlighted by silvery stubble, dusted with black. He adjusts his cap as his dark eyebrows raise in mock surprise.

“What, no hello?”

You tear your eyes away from his jaw. “Hm? Oh. Hi.” You open the door wider for him to step in. “Marc said you’d call first.”

“No fun in that, is there? Besides, you looked ready to handle some trouble.” he shrugs off his coat as you lock the door behind him.

“Trouble, yes. Nuisance, debatable.” You sidle up to him and drape your arms around his waist. You place a kiss on his cheek; it’d be impossible for him to not notice how you let yours drag along the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed you too,” he laughs again. “But man, is it warm in here…”

He tosses his cap and it takes everything in him to not lose it when your eyes widen at the sight of his hair, now more gray than black and curls longer than you’ve seen them before. You’re too enraptured to be embarrassed at your obvious loss for words.

“Your hair…” You reach up to touch it, but Jake grabs your wrist.

“Tsk, tsk, you threaten and barely say a word to me, then go straight for the goods without so much as a ‘please’? What happened to decorum, hm?”

“You fucking tease,” you huff. “...please?”

“Well, since you asked nicely–” Jake can barely finish his thought before your lips are on his, your hand tangled in his starlit hair as soon as he lets go.

“I take it we should cancel Marc’s haircut?” he murmurs as you catch your breath.

Your free hand grazes the scruff on his cheek and you grin. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

_____________________

A/N: marvel you cowards give us gray-haired moon knight

ty for reading <3

event tags:@moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[godjo]

tags — gojou x f!reader x bf!getou. ꒰ explicit smut. spitroasting. threesome. fellatio. cunnilingus. both are pussywhipped. fingering. facial. mindbreak. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni. ꒱

from hunter — it is ovulation time, i have no excuse. i’ve been thinking too much about getou lately and this is the result. ✮

it’s just a silly, fun game, prompted by none other than your boyfriend’s best friend. nobody would’ve foreseen that the end of a movie night will have your pussy pounded by gojou while getou’s balls are smothered all over your sticky face.

“mhm, like that, pretty girl?” your boyfriend, getou, asks with an impish grin adorning his lips. his cock swells inside your mouth, proud and hard against your salivating tongue. balls clapping your chin, his bush tickling your nostrils.

of course, it’s impossible to respond, let alone signal anything because you’re too fucked out of your wits. the whites of your eyes continue to dominate, your mouth nonstop in its slabbering because damn it all, gojou fucks like a rabid animal.

sure, gojou has always been nasty, freaky in his own grandiose way. and it’s because of him why the three of you ended up naked, sweaty, and fucking each other to bliss. but gods, he’s never expected your pussy to feel like this.

he’s milking his cock with your velvet, tight walls from root to tip. cocktip tingling every time it kisses your cervix. your cunt has already made a mess, pussy juices painting your puffed up cunt lips and gojou’s heavy balls. it’s impossible to stop fucking you when you grip him like a lifeline.

“enjoyin’ yourself, satoru?” getou teases, seeing gojou’s feverish eyes, a dainty pink crawling over the apples of his cheeks. “c’mon, use your big boy words.”

“well, fuck you, suguru,” gojou answers between shallow breaths. he chuckles, then, deep and throated. “‘s this why you’re so goddamn pussywhipped?”

“damn right,” getou hisses, the unexpected swirl of your tongue around his cocktip snatching air from his lungs. “gettin’ greedy now, angel?” he coos, cupping both your ears to pin his pelvis against your face. “oh, fuck, your mouth feels amazing, pretty.”

“and your pussy, too,” gojou leans forward and whispers in the shell of your ear. “never fucked anything like this before.”

gojou’s nails dig craters in your soft flesh while he ruts into you at a pace that has your eyes tearing up. his cock feels so good— your brain almost shuts down because of the sensation if not for getou.

your boyfriend smiles fondly down at you, edged with thick mischief, as he pulls his cock out from your mouth and taps your cheek with his puffy cocktip. he shoves his balls between your lips, the ridge of his girth resting on the bridge of your nose while you suckle on his balls hefty with unreleased cum. getou’s lips went ajar, stars dancing in his eyes, crimson dusting his cheeks.

you chuckle, breathless and elated. he’s so handsome when he’s losing his mind over you.

“angel, my precious baby, you’re a naughty thing, aren’t you?” he shoves his cock inside your mouth again, this time fucking the inside of your cheek.

the lewd and unfiltered sounds he echoes send bolts down your spine, causing your damped pussy to clamp hard around gojou’s girth.

he throws his head back, biting his lips so hard they would bleed. gojou’s so close— and yet he wants to seize the moment, fucking himself with your pussy until his balls tighten and he’s only seconds from pumping your womb with cum.

gojou and getou pull out at the same time. their hesitation to let you go palpable in the ache between their chests. ache that’s been augmented by their climax. all you can hear are their mindless moaning and gasping and pumping.

getou’s heavy and viscid cum shoots up your face. to your cheeks, mouth, nose, and even eyelids. while gojou sends his own sticky cum all over your back.

the three of you falls on the couch, collecting the shattered sanity you’ve spent from hours of fucking. your body automatically searches for getou’s warmth, and he takes you in his arm, kissing the top of your head.

“sorry, pretty, i’ve made such a mess,” he murmurs as he wipes his cum from your face with his shirt. “look at me baby, let me kiss you.”

getou guides you on his lap. his strong, warm hands cup your heated cheeks, before claiming your lips. his hands roam around your body, locking you in, your sticky cunt pulsing against his flaccid cock.

“i love, love, love you,” he tells you hotly, each word laced with open-mouthed kisses. “wanna eat your pussy, angel. can i eat your pussy?”

“‘course, suguru,” you whisper in his mouth. “want to feel you. let me feel you, please?”

he swiftly shifts your position. you’re laying on the couch; getou pitches himself between your legs. he spreads your thighs apart, sniffing your tingling pussy before lapping on the soft folds.

“mhm, suguru, just like that— hah—” you bite your fingers, feeling getou’s warm tongue licking all over your cunt. threading his raven hair with your shaking fingers, you pull his face close and locks his head with your thighs.

“suguru, you know that’s like giving me a blowjob, right?” gojou poses from the nearest sofa. he’s still naked, as though he cannot move at all, but those piercing blue eyes are glued to the image before him.

getou merely gives him a lackadaisical finger; he cannot be bothered by anything, not even gojou’s teasing, once he’s got his tongue kitten licking your clit.

“‘m so close, baby, please—” you declare, hot tears springing in your eyes again. getou parts your fold with two fingers, pumping your pussy while licking your clit and losing himself on the job of making you come on his tongue.

like shockwaves in your brain, your ass rises from the couch, chasing the zenith, but getou holds you firmly. you shout his name, crying and screaming and moaning, because god— he’s not stopping even though you’re breaking from the pleasure of it all.

“suguru— hah—” you fall limp on your position, clueless about what to do, as another wave of release washes over you. you’re shaking, twitching, drooling under his mercy.

he snatches you in his arms again, soothing you with gentle confessions of his love, of how you’ve been so good for him, and how he’s crazy only for you.

you’re on the verge of falling asleep when a soft kiss falls on your bare shoulder. eyes heavy with fatigue, you follow its owner, just to see gojou preparing to leave.

“i’m leaving now. do you need anything?” he dials his phone on his way to the door, muttering different kinds of food and ordering everything to be delivered to getou’s place. there’s mischief on gojou’s face as he waves goodbye. “we should do this again sometime, don’t you think?”

“fuck off, satoru,” getou drawls with a knowing smile.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” his best friend replies, followed by trails of smoky laughter before he closes the door. <3

2024 godjo — do not repost, edit, or copy.

[zeltqz]

RIDE ME .ᐟ ft koko, ran, hanma, rindou, sanzu —picture whoever u want 🙈

“Hm?”

He’s vaguely distracted by the wet patch on your panties the longer he plays with your clit, trailing his eyes up to your stomach. 

“What would you think of gettin’ a tattoo of my name, right there ?” 

He points to the right of your belly button, just touching above your pelvis. 

“I—uh, a tattoo? With your name?”

“Yeah.” He bends down to kiss that spot, your muscles contract as shivers race through your body. “Jus’ my name. How’s that sound, huh?”

“Sounds—” Your head throws itself back when his other hand slips through your panties, spreading two fingers through your folds to gather your slick. 

“Damn, this wet already? Didn’t even do anything yet.” He laughs against your stomach, sucking some skin into his mouth before letting go. 

You shiver when his fingers skim at your pussy, spreading your folds with two fingers. “uh…I—”

“Yeah? You what?”

Your sentence catches in your throat when his lips kiss down from your stomach to your pussy, tongue tickling along your slit. 

“Always tastes so good .”

His voice is nothing but sinful, carnal desire rolling deep within the depths of your belly when his lips seal your clit, sucking it hollowly into his mouth. 

You squeal his name, shooting up from the couch to grip onto his hair, on the verge of ripping his hair from the roots. 

His fingers circle the edge of your hole, giving your clit a break as his tongue begins lapping at the wetness from your cunt, spreading it along your thighs, kissing and biting the flesh whilst thrusting a finger inside you.

“Nuh-uh, open your legs for me, don’t hide—” You obey his words, desperately trying to keep your legs open as a second finger slips inside you. 

Your heart stutters five times in your chest, unceremoniously dragging his hair towards you, pulling him forward as the overwhelming heat coils between your legs. 

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck yes! There—jus—just like that—” 

You’re close to drawing blood with how hard you’re digging your teeth into your lips.

As if to add fuel to the fire, as his fingers scour your insides, desperately pushing you over the edge, he’s one handedly tugging your shirt up, beckoning you to hold it up with both hands, taking a nipple into his mouth, pulling a reedy sob from your swollen lips when his tongue flicks at it.

“ Fuck me—” You noisily cry out when he seals his mouth around your nipple, when his fingers do a wicked curl upwards, pressing into a spot that has you seeing stars and spitting profanities. 

“You want my cock, huh?” 

He laughs when you nod rapidly, pressing one last kiss to your nipple before he’s pulling his fingers out in favour of tugging his cock free from his pants, fisting at it, squeezing precum from the tip.

You never fail to hide your reactions everytime you see his dick; it having scared you the first time he’d fucked you with it. It’s so pretty, and your mouth salvates at the thought of having it deep in your throat, choking around it as he fucks your face.

“Wanna ride me? Feelin’ kinda lazy today.” He drawls, slow and lazy, lounging against the couch without waiting for your answer. 

It’s so amusing the way you scramble upwards, moving to straddle him, hands wrapping over his and jerk him off slowly.

He groans at the feeling, head thrown back and you can’t resist , taking that opportunity to suck at the base of his neck, sliding your tongue along the smooth surface all the way up to his ear. 

“Do you have a condom?” You mutter against the curve of his earlobe, biting down softly enough to pull a chuckle from his lips.

“Nah. I can pull out though.”

“You sure?” You’re leaning back regardless, adjusting his cock against your cunt, positioning the head at your entrance, then sink down slowly. “Oh—”

His hands fly to your hips, steadying you there before you go crazy on his dick. The tight grip of his hands never fails to make you whimper, giving you that motivation to sink lower to just feel his fingers dig into your skin more. 

“ Shit .” He moans when your walls clamp down on him, dragging you up by the grip on your hips, then slamming you back down. 

Your eyes snap shut at the fast-paced back and forth pace he’s set, bouncing you easily on his cock. The couch protests beneath you both, scraping against the wooden floors each time your hips slam down against his.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles against the curve of your face, one big hand sliding from your hips to your ass, kneading and squeezing it between his fingers as you squeal into his ear. 

“I—I’m gonna—” You pant shakily, one hand grabbing onto the back of the couch for support, the other wrapping around his neck.

“Cum? You gonna cum for me, right?” He grunts out, sucking at your bottom lip as his thrusts hit even deeper , impossibly deeper, and you’re left writhing above him, skin heating briskly as you chase your climax.

“C’mon—you want it, don’t you?” he goads against your lips, tenderly licking at your bottom lip long enough before you release your firm grip on the couch, cupping his face and kissing him raggedly, sliding your tongue in to plunder his mouth, fucking the vessel sensually.

You cry out when he spanks you again, dragging you forwards and backwards on his cock, stimulating your cunt from every angle.

“I’m cumming —!” Your vision fades as you dig your face into his shoulder, hips jerking as you come undone on his cock, tears flowing down your face as he gives you one last final thrust before lifting you up, cumming on your lower back.

[slippinninque]

✨ Pillow Time ✨

a/n: I've been inspired by the likes of @mcondance @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk and so many more of the lovely writers who has been feeding meeee wit the Fontaine thoughts! I hope you all like it!

warnings: Smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, Cursing, oral sex, cockwarming, needy!reader, softdomvibes!fontaine, long-fic

You had a very special pillow.

It was peach pink and white, made from the plushiest yarn that you found on a whim. It stayed fluffy and you could sit on it and still see the corners peek out when you're cross legged.

You often referred to it as one of your best creations. It reminded him of those cartoon pillows that would swallow anyone up if they sat in it. Ya'll had some good times with that pillow.

Fontaine called it your 'Princess Pillow'.

You were standing near him now, that pillow hugged to your body with your bright eyes peeking over the top at him. Fontaine was on the couch, rolling up and watching Coming to America.

"Feel like being good fo' me?" He asked, teasing as if he didn't know the answer. Fontaine watched you shift from one foot to the other, your smile fighting it's way onto your face as you nodded.

Nothing else for him to say. Fontaine widened his thighs and kept on rolling.

You'd toss the pillow onto the floor and shift close enough to be between his feet. He'd wait until you got comfortable, resting your cheek onto his thigh. While you rested there, Fontaine's attention returned to the TV.

Wasn't long before he felt the drawstrings being undone and sighed when your soft hands found him. He wasn't all the way hard yet, Fontaine knew that wouldn't be a problem.

Your lips suckled the head of his dick and Fontaine groaned softly at the drag of your tongue. A satisfied noise came from you and you sank down to the root of his dick. After a moment of shifting, you resettled and closed your eyes.

You swallowed around him, head bobbing as you fell into your own little world. Above you, Fontaine finished rolling his blunt and fired up. Taking a long pull while one of his hands went into your locs, scratching your scalp and rubbing the silky new growth between his fingers.

He blew the smoke up into the ceiling and murmured a few filthy praises. Pleasure was hooked to the tip of your tongue, in the patterns that grew more and more languid the more you relaxed into serving him.

You weren't in any hurry to make him cum, this part was all for you and Fontaine was just happy to be give you what you want.

When you went still, eyes glassy and slow blinking, Fontaine reached down and stroked the back of your neck.

"Gettin' what you need, baby?" He asked. Your answering mhmm vibrated right to his spine, "Mmn. That's good, pretty. Take your time, then."

You purred again and he had to take a breath to re-center. He could still remember how hesitant you were the first time you suggested this.

"I-I don't know if you think it's weird, we don't have too, I-I just really like having, um, you in my mouth?"

Fontaine would have bust on the spot had it not been for the gravity of the situation. You've been keeping this tucked to you for a long time, despite the laughing as you told him as if to soften the blow of his denial.

He kept his cool and reassured you that you could do anything with his dick that you wanted. In the meantime, Fontaine got ready so he could stay ready for you.

Fontaine absolutely made sure to keep his shit neat and trimmed for you and he switched to a soap that didn't have a strong fragrance. He looked up a few tips online to make sure he was taking good care of you and you weren't pushing yourself.

You rarely touched yourself. You prefer to rock against your pillow and often kneaded one of Fontaine's ankles as you savored him. It was the service, the act itself that brought you gratification. Knowing that you were being good to him, for him.

If left to your own devices, you would be down there for more than an hour. The record being two hours and some change as you both were immersed in the new Batman movie that finally started streaming.

He wanted to beat that record.

Presently, Fontaine's head was filled with a pleasant buzz as he smoked his blunt down to nearly half before it was put aside. On the TV, Hakeem finally touched down in New York in all of it's grimy splendor and to Semmi's dismay.

He was brought back by the quiet, kittenish noises coming from you as you nuzzled your nose into his coarse curls. It never ceased to amaze him how easily you could swallow him down. His hand went from your hair to the front of your neck this time, feeling as much as he could of how full of him you were.

"Look at you feelin' so good f'me, pretty. Can I play witchu? Hm?"

You nodded, putting your hands flat onto your thighs and relaxing into him. Fontaine rocked, ebbing and flowing his dick deeper down your throat with his eyes focused on yours. Your lashes fluttered shut with a sweet whine when he groaned, thrusting deep and flexing his dick in the velvet of your throat.

"Precious girl, right where you need to be. Doin' what you do best, look at that..."

Fontaine pulled his dick from your slick lips, pressing his first two fingers down onto your tongue. You were getting messy, spit twinkling along your face and down your throat.

He took off his tank and wiped your face with it.

You leaned into his touch and looked up at him, all floaty and tender, settled in that headspace that you were still too shy to talk about. Once your face was dry again, he leaned down to press a brief kiss to your soft lips after tossing his tank to the side.

Fontaine spent a moment rubbing and petting your face still, relishing in the pleasure of having such a vision willing to kneel for him and accept his care.

It was special, how you liked to please him. Different from anything he's ever encountered and much more than what he deserved--but Fontaine will be sure to be what you needed.

He spotted your wriggling and grinned in gold, "Still messy, baby?"

"Mmhm."

"Show me where."

Leaning back, you showed him the good-sized damp spot that darkened your pillow. All Fontaine had to do was lean in and you obediently leaned back onto your elbows, legs parting for him to look his full.

Fontaine whistled low, stroking himself at the sight of your ruined panties. He hadn't even known you bothered to wear any, but seeing your sweetie covered in the soaked cotton heated him.

In due time.

Fontaine crooked his fingers and you straightened at once, attention on where he held his dick for you. You got close enough or him to rub his dick across your face. When you opened up, your alluring tongue pink and perfect, he finally gave in. How could he not?

"Here you go, baby, take what you want 'cause once you're done--Imma do the same."

He didn't miss your shiver as you answered his words with a hard suck, making him moan and reach for the rest of his blunt.

............... ............. ............

END!

(or is it??? dundun duuuuun!)

a/n: Thank you for reading! I couldn't get this out of my head, lol! Tell me what you think!

taglist: @megamindsecretlair@thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful@8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@mysterychick93 @eggnox @notapradagurl7 @sageispunk @mcondance @hunnishive

(let me know if you want to be tagged!! 💕💜🌟)

[yuurei20]

Short Translation from Twst the 2nd novel: Ruggie in the Cafeteria(pt4/4)

"‘You mean they have good teamwork?’ Yuuya recalls an earlier conversation with Ace. ‘Is it because Savanaclaw has so many beast-people?’

‘Well, Savanaclaw has a lot of people like us, too. I think it’s just how the dorm is. It’s 'cause they’ve got the most athletes. That’s why they’re so good at Spelldrive.’

'Now that you mention it, that came up in class this morning, too.’

Savanaclaw is based on the indomitable spirit of the 'King of Beasts,’ one of the Great Seven. And, true to that spirit, its residents all seem strong and proud of their dorm.

‘You talk Savanaclaw, you’re talkin’ a tournament-winning dorm. They’ve got a ton of athletes who have gone pro after being scouted at competitions.’

Deuce furrows his brow. ‘But last year, the dorm that won was…’

‘Exactly. That’s what caused the fight this morning. For the past two years, the winner’s been Diasomnia. If you’d watched the broadcast of the tournament last year, you’d know that.’

‘Ah.’ Deuce blinks. ‘Yeah, I can see why that’d end up in a fight.’

‘Right? Savanaclaw is probably gettin’ real tense with the tournament coming up again. It’s probably best to steer clear of them right now.’

It seems that Diasomnia has been dominating at Spelldrive in recent years. As reigning champions, Savanaclaw must see them as rivals. Now understanding the root of the quarrel from this morning, Yuuya resolves to stay far away from both dorms until the tournament ends.

‘The Spelldrive tournament…’ The raging Grim finally collapses forward onto the table. ‘I can’t be in the tournament, and then this happened to my deluxe menchi katsu sandwich…nothin’ good ever happens to me! This is the worst day of my life!’

Grim buries his face in his front paws, which become slick with tears and snot.

Feeling sorry for him Yuuya gingerly arranges Grim’s scattered baked goods on the table, then gently strokes his hunched back. ‘You’ve got a lot of other snacks. They all look delicious, and you can get another katsu sandwich next time. Let’s just give up for today.’

‘Grrr. Damn it…’

Yuuya offers Grim a bagel that he devours in three bites, glowering at the table. ‘This alone ain’t gonna be enough…hey, Yuu! I’m takin’ your stew!’

‘Come on now, cut it out.’ Yuuya rescues his bowl in a hurry, and Grim makes a grab for Deuce’s bread.

'Stop it! I don’t have anything to do with this!’

‘Man, we’d better eat before Grim inhales everything.’ Ace swallows his bread whole without chewing. While he’d probably planned enjoy it at his leisure, in the end he couldn’t even taste it. In a cacophony of noise and the blink of an eye, lunchtime is over."

[ad-astrah]

Cinderella's Castle Digital Ticket Reactions (Part III)

"GOOD. Good. Good. good. goo--*sobs.*"

Starkid does one little concert in London and suddenly EVERYBODY'S got a British accent. lol I'm just joking. They work here with the setting of the show and as a way to differentiate characters. And I think it was smart of them to only use the accents for minor characters that only briefly appear.

"because your labor pained me and I swore that I'd get you back and...well, that time has come." Honestly, she's a real one for that. Also that line delivery was so perfect. Angela's comedic timing is so good.

I was actually rooting for Rancilda, though. The blowjob jokes that she and the prince could've shared...

"fits like a glove." "It's a shoe, stupid!" "IT'S AN EXPRESSION, DUMBASS."

Again, I just love how stupid and wildly different and fun Mariah's character is in this show! Love seeing her range.

🎶LA LA LALA LA LA LA LALA🎶

Tadius gettin' the fuq outta there. He knows shit's goin' down.

THE CUT TO STEPMOTHER AND RANCILDA IN THE AUDIENCE.

Tadius' face during these vows. Gives me Chris Pine sitting through an interview with Harry Styles vibes.

Boooo. BOOOOOO

EAT YOUR HEART OUT, RANCILDA.

HISSSSSSSSSS

When Ella came back I was like: WELCOME BACK, QUEEN. SLAY.

THE HAIR. THE ROBES. THE LONG SLEEVES. This is so fuckin' dope.

I DON'T WANNA LIVE YOUR DREAM ANYMORE, MOM. I LIKE RIDDLES...I'M GOIN' BACK TO THE BRIIIIIIIDGEEEE. YEAAAHH!" Honestly, I love that for her. Go live your dream, Rancilda!

How did the outfit get MORE. DOPE. YASSSSS ELLA. WERK BITCH. This chainmail-like look literally and figuratively KILLS.

And thus Winnifred Sanderson the Stepmother dies.

Tadius just casually admitting to regicide.

"Who knows! I wasn't there." Biiiitch.

Queen Putrice. lol gurl was queen for like 5 minutes.

I thought he was proposing for a hot sec there. And as good of a power couple I think they'd make, they ain't ready for that yet. They got boatlads of fuckin' trauma to unpack and I'm pretty sure neither of them have ever been in a relationship before lol. They gotta take that ish slow.

Wasn't quite expecting an 80s gospel ballad but it makes sense and it works. Especially with Bryce's powerful, soulful voice. Gimme that power ballad gilrboss vibe.

Yo, listen to how GOOD Jon Matteson sounds! And whilst using a character voice, too! Proud of you, boo. He's come such a long way since GWDLM.

SING IT BRYCE. FUCK YES. HOT DAMN.

Jeff working the crowd like the attention whore he is and we love him for that.

Jeff's falsetto is insane!

I'm wondering if Ella's wardrobe was all green as a reference to her mother's dancing and praying in the forest in front of that tree and to the Fairy Queen herself? I feel like it's symbolic and not just a "Bryce looks good in green, so let's make her entire wardrobe green" thing. Although she DOES look good in green.

Another brilliant, hilarious, incredible show from Team Starkid. I cannot WAIT until the Youtube edition comes out and all Starkid fans can watch it over and over as much as we want and soak up every little detail and joke and make all the memes. I know they'll never see a post from lil ole me, but THANK YOU, TEAM STARKID, for making my days brighter, my heart lighter, my laughter louder, and my smile wider.

[stxneflxwers]

all's fair in love & war.

⋯⁂ Summary: You are the God of War—Zhongli is the Warrior God. You are known for your bloodlust and savagery, but some things go unexpected and unplanned when you cross him.

⋯⁂ a/n: heyyy im finally posting. not much happens in this chapter but it's gettin there !! i just needed to get this OUT of my BRAIN!!!! will work on chapter 3 when i get the ideas sorted out :3

⋯⁂ w.c: ~900.

⋯⁂ characters: zhongli/morax. gn reader (god name is kimaris.)

⋯⁂ cw: archon war and its side dishes (violence, blood, etc.); identity crises, memory loss/amnesia, minor display of suicidal ideation (for reader);

II — Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

You've hardly moved from your spot in days - still sitting atop that mountain pillar where Morax had left you.

You spend much of your time either sleeping or pacing back and forth, staring at the yawning horizon before you. Although, you're not admitting any time soon to almost walking off the cliff edge once…or twice. The third time it happens, though—

"You should pay attention to where you walk." Morax catches your arm and yanks you back onto the mountain before you take a long fall into the waters at the root of the rocks. That'd hardly be pleasant to experience.

"Oh." You snap back into reality when he touches you - and suddenly feel sleepy. There's something about his presence that threatens to make you fall asleep on him. "My…apologies." You mutter, staring at the sparse grass under your bare feet.

"Do not be. All I ask for is you to be a little more careful." He shakes his head.

His hand continues to firmly grasp your bicep, his gloved hand emanating a comforting warmth deep into your skin. Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you sway side to side from the sudden onset of fatigue. Before you can collapse, he catches you and pulls you straight against his body.

"Careful now. Have you not been sleeping?" He inquires in a whisper.

You shrug against him before falling deeper into the beginnings of sleep. Your knees buckle soon after that and he's forced to pick you up before your head can kiss the ground. He sighs, wondering what could be going on with him that makes you fall asleep every time he comes by.

He rests you down on your makeshift bed, getting you as cozy and comfortable as he can. His eyes now laden with thoughts about how he can help you.

—

You wake up later that day after Morax has left once more. You stir uncomfortably in your rest before jerking upright on your bed. You release a sigh that's heavy and loud - almost thunderous. You can hardly sleep without him here sometimes. You're not sure why, but there's something very calming and serene about him.

You swiftly rise to your full height, dusting off your rather ragged clothing. You glance around - from the horizon to the lonesome tree on this mountain pillar. Your eyes spot a little flower attempting to grow in the shade of the thin tree. Curious - you walk over to the white blossom and crouch before it. Before you can touch it, you hear footsteps and the familiar cadence of Morax's voice calling out to you.

"Ah, you are awake. Good." Morax notes aloud, his keen golden eyes watching you stand and spin toward him. "No worries, it is only me."

"Oh." You sigh a little, stepping away from the flower beneath the tree.

"Here. I have some tea…and new attire. For you, that is." He meets up with you halfway across the small area. He's carrying a kettle of fresh tea and a bundle of clothes in each arm.

Your face falls.

"What is wrong? If they are not to your liking, then—"

"No, it's not that…" You glance away, a tiny sneer on your features. "I'm not sure why you're…so nice to me. Have I not caused innumerable amounts of deaths?"

"Hm." He hums, handing you the clothes anyway. He sits down next to your makeshift bed, pouring a cup of tea for you. "I have observed you for a long time now due to your proximity to Jueyun Karst." He admits cooly as if he's hardly bothered by his confession.

"…Oh." You mumble, now staring down at the fine silk clothes in your hands. "…Why didn't you kill me?" You blurt out, your throat tightening and your heart drying up.

"I have my reasons." He glances up at you, noting your furrowed brows and a deep frown. "First… Let's drink this tea." He gestures to you to sit with him with a curl of his forefinger. "I had a dear friend make it. It should help subdue your homicidal urges around others." He informs.

"Alchemy, then… With…tea." You sigh, shaking your head before relenting and sitting down across from him.

"Yes." He nods, a soft smile temporarily etching into his face. He wants to keep your trust - maybe even deepen it. He knows there's some way to rid you of this homicidal curse… What may it be? He's uncertain. But what he is certain of is that there's something about you that tells him that you weren't always like this.

You grumble something to yourself - indiscernible even to his keen hearing. You take the cup he offers and take a huge gulp from it. He internally grimaces at your rather indecorous way of handling the tea. He brushes off the minor offense - knowing that you can't even remember yesterday half of the time.

"By the way," He cuts into your thoughts, "I will be taking you to my companions soon - think of it as a behavioral test."

(What am I? A dog?) You think, but quickly conclude that you are as feral as an untamed animal, "…Alright. I'll, uhm, behave—"

"Ah, just be yourself," He says with your name rolling off his lips at the end, "Forcing yourself to behave may cause…unforeseen troubles in the future."

"Right…"

You then chug the rest of the tea and hand the cup back to him, some of the tea dribbling down your chin going unnoticed by you - but not him. He mentally sighs.

[inkpot-winters]

a hozier song each for the shadow and bone characters *this is based off of the netflix series versions of the characters

Alina Starkov - Sunlight All the tales the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

Aleksander Morozova - From Eden Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

Malyen Oretsev - Jackie and Wilson Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside We'd sit back and watch the world go by

Nikolai Lantsov - Take Me To Church If I'm a pagan of the good times My lover's the sunlight To keep the goddess on my side She demands a sacrifice

Genya Safin - To Be Alone All I've ever done is hide From our times, when you're near me Honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes I feel like a person for a moment of my life

Nina Zenik - Nina Cried Power It's not the wall, but what's behind it Oh, the fear of fellow men is near assignment And everything that we're denied By keepin' the divide It's not the wakin', it's the risin'

Matthias Helvar - Foreigner's God Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me But still my heart is heavy With the hate of some other man's beliefs

Kaz Brekker - Eat Your Young I wanna race you to the table If you hesitate, the gettin' is gone I won't lie if there's somethin' to be gained There's money to be made, whatever's still to come

Inej Ghafa - Cherry Wine Her fight and fury's fiery Oh, but she looks Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful, I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing

Jesper Fahey - Would That I With each love I cut loose, I was never the same Watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Layin' waste to my lovin' long ago

Wylan Van Eek - Someone New There's an art to life's distraction To somehow escape the burning wait, the art of scraping through Some like to imagine The dark caress of someone else; I guess any thrill will do

[bonezone44]

linecook!Ezra ficlet (18+)

Linecook!Ezra x afab!Reader

word count: 873.

Tags: no smut. Just some good ol’ fashioned Waffle House dirty talk. Implied oral (f), implied past somno fingering, implied past p-in-v.

a/n: I've got 1000 other fics I should be writing but then this came out and I know it ends abruptly, but I'm trying to get my brain going.

+++++

Ezra, sitting on an overturned bucket in the back of the Waffle House, spits wisdom to his young cohorts on his cigarette break. They gather around him with eager eyes and hopeful smiles while he shares tales of the beforetimes (before the current manager was hired). He feels like the village elder, continuing an oral tradition that began long before the Waffle House existed. Back when it was a plot of land on the side of the highway that the local farmers would use to set up their vegetable stands every day.

When his tale is done, so is his cigarette. He snubs it out on the wall behind him and tosses the butt in an ever-present, faded, empty can of Barq’s root beer.

"You want another one?" asks one of the new waitresses, holding out a pack of Marlboro 100s that seemed to materialize from thin air with how swiftly she acquired it from her purse. Her fingernails are chewed down to the bone. She's nineteen years old and keen for Ezra's attention and approval.

She’s cute, he thinks. But he knows she’s too young and inexperienced for a man with his tastes. He wasn’t nearly as patient and accommodating as he had been in previous years. And none of those passing thoughts matter much anyhow since he has you.

He smiles, though, and continues to be polite. "I appreciate the offer, but I find myself satisfied with that particular poison for today." He pulls out a small joint of marijuana from his pocket. "On to the next one," he drawls with a smirk and the group laughs. They watch quietly as he lights it up with a flick of his BIC and takes a long, deep inhale. He holds it for as long as his aging lungs can muster and releases it above him in a thick cloud of smoke.

Then the back door flies open and you poke your head out.

You scoff at the sight. "Ezra! What are you doin back here? I need you on the grill!" You wave your hand, swatting the weed smoke away.

"I am holding court with my brethren," he turns to you and answers coolly.

"You're not gettin paid to hold court!" you yell. "I got hungry people in here!"

"Alright, alright." He licks his finger and thumb and pinches out the cherry of his joint. He looks to his audience. "Duty calls," he says with a smile and stands up. He lazily makes his way inside while you stand there and hold the door open for him.

—

You look out at the group. "What are y'all doin here? Y'all don't even work today!"

They offer their excuses, but you don't care to hear. You shoo them off and tell them to go home.

Back inside, Ezra's washing his hands at the sink. You two are hidden from view.

"I got people starin at me wonderin when their food's gonna get started!" you grouse.

"And they will be fed shortly," Ezra responds casually–as if he has all the goddamn time in the world. He dries his hands with a few paper towels and tosses them in the trash.

Your shoulders fall. "I'm exhausted, Ezra," you whine, begging for sympathy. "My feet hurt. I smell like shit. I don't wanna deal with these people anymore."

"C'mere, starlette." He wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you close. His other hand slaps your asscheek, hard. You gasp and jump and it brings your bodies closer. He looks at you adoringly. "Your shift is nearly done and when my relief arrives--" He slides one hand down the center of your ass. "--I will hurry myself to your place of residence post-haste--" His fingers press against your most sensitive area through the thin, polyester fabric of your work pants. You whimper. "--and devour your sex until I am smothered and covered in your juices.”

You close your eyes and fight back a smile. Ezra is the only man you’ve been with to make good on his promises–well, when it came to sex, at least. “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you get there.” 

“That’s never stopped me before,” he murmurs to you with hazy eyes.

You feel something hard press against you. Your whole body warms to the memory of waking up with Ezra heavy on top of you, fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. You melt against him like a slice of cheese. “Shit, Ezra,” you sigh. You wanna pull him into the manager’s office again like you did on your third shift. Leaned over the desk with your pants pulled just below your ass and Ezra’s apron tossed over his shoulder. You were tossing your ass back just as hard as he was slamming his hips. Never even got caught.

“Anybody workin here?!” a voice bellows from the dining room.

You immediately pull back from Ezra, though he is loath to let you go.

“I’m coming!” you shout.

“Yes, you will be,” mutters Ezra.

You grab a stray rag from the counter and toss it in his face with a frustrated huff. You straighten your clothes and rush to the front, doing your best to make peace with the upset guest.

+++++

[cinamun]

okay i’m all read up now and my brain decided to say : what if Dira was mad at Amaya for crushing on DJ because Amaya was Indira’s crush … what then?

also, after seeing the most recent conversation that Dira and Hope had, i’m even more confused why anyone’s got beef with Dira for doing what the hell she wanna do?? she’s clear on her desires, periodt. and like she said to Tre, why these dudes always tryna jump to ownership?? at least he had the good sense to back up when she said to ~

now, for the sake of fairness, DJ was told to leave that girl alone once it became clear that they weren’t on the same page, so i feel like Charlie gotta go atp , and i wonder if Dira’s scared of how he’ll react if she actually puts the breaks on it.. i’m just saying, she has seen the lengths some guys will go to when they get entitled to the lady they’re feelin and then start applying unwanted pressure.. - the way she speaks to Charlie when she’s asserting her boundary that they’re just friends sounds a lil cautious, like she’s tryna let him down easy so he doesn’t do anything drastic 👀 i’m just lookin, but i’m also seeing parallels between Charlie/Indira and Bishop/Mercy the way he tells her that her body wants him while they’re gettin it in and he ain’t listening to what her mouth say ; (also Dira’s quote in response was real familiar : “she has a mind of her own” 🔍) however lol yknow… that might be a different kinda take - just bouncing around observations ~ regardless of what’s going on, imma stay on team Happy Healthy Wealthy Drakes and root for Dira to not have to fight or say anything twice to be heard and respected on her bidness ✨

anyway, like i was saying,

Amen and amen. Welcome back friend and I'm SO GLAD you're all caught up. I'm really glad you brought up the conversation with Hope! Important! But stay tuned tho...

[im-a-marvel-ous-hoe]

Holiday Treats | Bucky Barnes (10th Day of 🎄)

(Credits to the owner of this pic!)

We’re gettin’ real close to the end of my 12 days of Christmas! I hope y’all are liking my fics! This one is kinda short lmaooo

Christmas Masterlist <- check out my other holiday fics!

~~~~

“Buck, stop!” I laughed, moving the bowl away from his reaching hands. “You’re not supposed to eat the cookie batter!”

“Who made up that rule?”

“There’s literally raw egg in here, you could get sick.”

“But it tastes so good.”

I placed the bowl on the other side of the kitchen counter top and turned to look at him, my hands on my hips as I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me. You’re eating the cookies before they’re even in the oven.”

“Whaaattt?” He walked over to the kitchen table and grabbed the parchment paper and cut out a sheet. “Look at that. I’m a great helper.” I smiled and took it from his hands. “Suurree..” I placed the sheet on top of the cookie tray and flattened it down. I heard him walk up behind me and felt his hands slide across my waist.

I reached my hand into the bowl of cookie dough and scooped up a little chunk and rolled them up into balls. I felt him slowly sway back and forth, holding me close to him and softly hum tune as I placed it onto the tray. I continued to work while feeling the soft vibrations from his voice hum against me, his arms holding on and gently moving my body against his.

I felt little peppers of kisses on my neck as I smiled to myself. My breath slightly hitched as I composed myself. “I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work.” I could feel his breath against my neck as he chuckled and pressed another small kiss. “I’m not doin’ anything, doll. I’m just here lovin’ on you, is all.”

I felt goosebumps rise on my skin as he continued, my mind going slightly foggy as I kept reaching in the bowl of cookie dough. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“Mm-mm.. absolutely not. I would never.”

He continued softly humming a song in my ear as I felt myself just wanting to melt in his arms, but I couldn’t fall for it. One of his hands slowly left my waist and reached for a spoon so he could dig in to get another taste of the batter before I caught him. “Ah ah ah, not yet baby.”

He sighed in defeat and opted to just let me finish. “Just be patient. You’ll get your cookies in a bit.”

“I want it now.”

I chuckled and shook my head. He stayed rooted behind me as I finished rolling them up and put them in the oven. I turned to look at him once I put a timer on my phone. He held his hand out and smiled at me. “Care to dance?”

I returned the smile and nodded my head, taking my hand in his and letting him pull me against him once again. His other hand grabbed my waist and guided me with him. We slowly spun around the kitchen as he hummed a tune. I couldn't make out what it was, but I didn’t care. He felt so warm.

“Have I told you ‘I love you’ today?”

“No, I don’t believe you have.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhmm.”

He smiled and twirled me around. I laughed as I was brought up to his chest. He held me there for a moment and just looked at me.

“I love you.”

I leaned in and closed the distance between us, my lips finding his in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too.”

We continued dancing until the cookies were done. He looked so happy once the baked goods were finally done, I swear I could’ve mistaken him for a child. He reached into the fridge to take out the milk so he could pour himself a glass and immediately chowed away.

God, I’m in love with a dork.

~~~~

I hope y’all liked it! Please let me know your thoughts! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

[hyunsvngs]

OMG follow up to Seungmin && throat training :o

your knees have been bruised all week since the last (and first) time Seungmin closed off your only airway while giving head. you’ve never seen him so mouthy before, of course he wasn’t silent when things would get heated between the two of you.. but the mouth on him when this new feeling of power awoke in him from asphyxiation on the giving end??? 😮‍💨😮‍💨 And naturally, your body liked it too, the floor drenched in your hot desire dripping from your cunt.

and you best believe Seungmin knew it too. And he made sure you knew that he knew. So when the next time rolls around, you’re not surprised his index finger and thumb pressed your nostrils shut the second your lips wrapped around his head

“let’s see how much I can make your pussy drool this time.” He looks down at you with his mouth shaped in a small ‘o’, his other hand in your hair; slowly making a fist at the roots. you moan and he hisses at the vibrations.

“Your throat is so fucking ti- goddamn!” You look up and he’s looking at you like you’re the cheapest, dirtiest whore he’s ever seen. “You’re so fucking nasty, let’s see how long you can last” You loose your focus for a second because he looks so unreal right now (especially since he’s picking up the pace of his thrusts), but after a bit..the burning sensation on your scalp brings you back in time to question how long he’s been holding your nose closed now. It’s been what? 20 seconds? 30? Last time, he’d give you small breaks every few moments.. but this is different. Different feeling, a little floaty.

Smack.

you focus back on Seungmin’s face, and he chuckles. “You didn’t hear a single thing I just said huh?? Fucking whore is already loosing it? Hasn’t even been 30 seconds” He’s takes the hand that was gripping your hair and harshly pats your right temple. “Ya gettin’ a lil spacey up in there sweetheart? You need to breathe?” He pulls out just far enough that his tip exits your mouth and shoves it back in not even 2 seconds later. You’re taking in as much air as you possibly can, gasping and slightly gagging when he pushes back in.

but FUCK Seungmin just can’t help it. You look so good and submissive and he’s just so close but he needs one more thing from you.

“Get on your fucking hands and knees” He releases your nose and you all but sit back on your heels and try to catch your breath… but he doesn’t care for it. Seungmin shoves you down to the ground with your face down and ass up next to your puddle of wetness. “I didn’t tell you to take a break, did I? Listen. Keep your mouth useful and clean this mess up too”

While you’re licking yourself off the floor, he runs his cock through your folds. You let out the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard when he bullies his cock all the way in.

“You’re the dirtiest bitch around, huh? Doing what I say just to make sure you can do more than taste my cock” He places his left hand on the back of your neck, keeping it where he wants it most while his other hand wraps around your hip to circle your clit. His thrusts are so deep and hard that before he knows it, you’re cumming around him so hard you can’t even keep your legs under you. “What do you say you fucking whore?” He growls

“thankyouthankyouthanky-“

“Yeah yeah” He pulls his hand back and powers it towards to smack your ass hard.

It doesn’t take long to finish, but Seungmin can’t wait for the next time to obliterate your throat and push your limits <3

LMAOOO i’m (obviously) not very good at writing :D (and VERY much enjoy rough/mean!dom Minnie) but i hope I got the story across and i hope you enjoy. I never do anything like this but I really like your blog and I actually don’t mind interacting with you :-)))

-✖️

AGAIN ANOTHER ONE I HABE NOTHIGN TO ADD. my fave part was the ‘yeah, yeah’ HOLY SHITTTTTT HES SO SEXY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!?!?!? PLS SEND MORE

[fukoushite]

The Nightscape Chapter 1 (BSD AU)

- my oc is featured in this, Kumiro! She's like, a self insert !

- this is my first time writing fanfiction !! So um . I hope it's like good 😭

- updates will be slow as I am in school

- ty my beta reader (Felix)

- I am planning to include manga panels here and there, if I end up doing so they'll be shown on here !! Idk if I have motivation tho

- I'm tryna make my tumblr more pretty and easy to acess but I cannot figure out how so uh .

That's all I think ? Enjoy 🎀

---

"I can't hold this for much longer!"

She spoke through her teeth, her voice held back and absent of air, scared to release any energy that she still needed. Her knees were bent and her arms were trying to hold up a large piece of concrete, one that had fallen on top of her just moments ago. Her arms and legs were slightly shivering, as she didn't possess enough strength to hold up rubble larger than herself, and her breath was absent until absolutely necessary.

"Kenji!", she managed to get out.

"On it!"

A blonde boy with freckles ran forward and lifted the piece of rubble that the girl was trying to hold up, took over from her and slowly put the debris down next to both of them.

She slightly bent her knees and put her hands on them, breathing heavily, resting.

The person who put the concrete down for her, Kenji, possessed over superstrength as his special ability, so he did not feel the slighest bit out of breath. His appearance was youthful, he wore a straw hat on his back and blue overalls. He appeared a farmer.

"Hah... Thanks.."

The boy responded with a smile. "No problem!"

The girl did not get much time to catch her breath. Alarmed, she warned the boy who'd helped her; "Watch out!!"

A kind of black mist hurled at them that they barely managed to dodge. It was solid and sharper than a knife, but blunt at the same time. It could take any shape it wanted to.

The girl jumped up, grabbed Kenji's sleeve and used her ability to stop time while they were both in the air. Right as they landed somewhere right of the mist, time immediately resumed.

Kenji exhaled with a "phew!" and thanked her.

"Damn, that was close. It almost had me by the neck! If I wasn't gifted, that is.. heh."

Kumiro took pride in her ability.

It allowed her to stop time, as long as she didn't move anything while doing so. This included tiles and walls, so she couldn't move around all that well while using it, and thus she used it most often to shorten her jumps at enemies to catch them off guard or dodge their attacks. She was able to take others with her in the stop by touching them (apart from Dazai, because of his nullification ability), and the same properties counted for them.

She got thrown out of her daze and yelled "Atsushi!" when she saw that one of the mist's ends tried to grab a white-haired boy's leg; but it transformed into a tiger's, as he jumped up, transformed his arms as well, and went straight for the black energy.

He yelled while jumping, showing off his teeth, until he landed right on top of the mist that had attacked him and bit into it as hard as he could.

Kuuma had been staring at the boy while he attacked, slightly worried, but also almost chuckling.

"Damn, Atsushi," she mumbled, "your leg almost dissappeared. Again."

'Also, why do you always scream while attacking? The enemy will hear your ambush from a mile away', she thought.

"Kuuma!"

Atsushi yelled at her, not for laughing at his leg but moreso as a warning, a slightly worried tone in his voice.

"Hm?"

She looked back at the root of the mist and saw a black blade coming straight for her. She stopped time without a second thought, stared at it in surprise and confusion for a second, then slowly crouched down and tapped the ground to resume time.

With a loud, crumbling and explosive sound the mist landed above her head.

"Goddamn."

She was slightly shocked at the impact that blow had.That could have been her skull.

"You okay...?"

"I'm fine...!"

She looked at the blade as it was busy getting itself back out the wall it had just pierced, then grabbed it with both her hands without standing up.

"...Kuuma?!"

With a kind of childish, blank, but very curious and attentive expression she pulled down as hard as she could, and after a few seconds of trial the mist slightly snapped.

"!"

She didn't have enough strength to fully break it, but Kenji came to help. He grabbed the mist on both sides of her hands and ripped it apart.

"Wow!! Thanks, farm boy!"

She smiled at Kenji, since he had helped her, but before Kenji could open his mouth or shape it into a smile a voice in the back asked;

"Um. Kuuma. Wasn't that like, a literal blade?"

"..."

"..."

She looked at her hands, and they indeed were red.

"Uh.. Oops?"

She turned to look at the others, closed her right eye, turned her head slightly to that same direction and stuck a bit of her tongue out.

"Are--"

The tiger boy wanted to ask if she was alright, but when his right arm got snatched by another piece of mist his sentence was left unfinished.

Pulled, he flew towards it, but quickly composed himself, grabbed the mist with his other hand, sunk his teeth into it, bit down and pulled it towards himself.

This one hadn't transformed into a blade; instead, it was more soft, likely meant for grabbing the enemies and holding them down or trapping them, like a thick rope.

When Atsushi pulled, it immediately ripped to shreds, but this time, he threw himself directly at the roots of the mist, the core; a person.

"He's going for it! Get 'em, Atsushi!", Kumiro cheered on.

The core was in the middle of a sunken part of the room; in fact, it almost looked like it was a whole few floors below them, with how deep it was, even though the building only had two floors in total.

The high jump couldn't be made by Kuuma or Kenji, because while they were both pretty resilient, they would break a leg even if they used their abilities, so they resorted to standing on the side of the hole and watching Atsushi as he fought.

"Gh--", he vaguely gasped; A blade of mist had threwn itself horizontally at Atsushi's face, and if he hadn't seen it even a milisecond prior, his lips would be separated from each other, his rows of teeth; his chin and his brains.

He opened his mouth and closed it again not even a second after, clamping down on it with his fangs as hard as he could.

Unlike a bullet, its force wasn't stopped when the object stopped moving; the boy had to keep biting, while the blade was pushing him back.

Kenji grabbed a table from the floor he and Kuuma were on, threw it down at the blade, and because of his strength the piece of furniture ended up shattering the mist in that area.

Shattered, but so was the table.

"eheh."

"Thanks." Atsushi replied with gratitude quickly, then ran forward to the person at the center of the nightmare, took the piece of mist trying to strangle them and tried his best to rip it apart.

After a few seconds, it snapped, and the ropes and blades on the sides of the nightmare gradually retreated.

"Yippee! Good job, tiger boy!", it sounded from above. While saying so Kumiro closed her eyes excitedly and put her hands up. Her bangs (or rather, bang) swayed as she did so.Her hair was short, ending just a little bit below where her neck starts, and it curled outwards at the ends; she once had two long strands of hair in front, falling on her chest, before the right one got cut off in a battle. It now ended just above her earring, which was a long, tiny chain with a star at the end, just short enough to not touch her shoulder. In her other ear was also a star earring, but the star was the entire earring; there was no chain, so the star came immediately on her ear.

The cut also left a little diagonal scar around her right earring, since the blade came from her lower right to her upper left. Her short bang also followed that diagonal line, albeit somewhat more natural, as it had grown a bit by now; she had no motivation to cut the other bang as well to make it look normal, as she felt a somewhat regular haircut would take away the uniqueness of her face.

Her hair was a greenish tint of blonde, and her eyes matched it, being a desaturated teal of color, with spots of yellow around her pupil.

Her eyes were big and round, yet she always looked somewhat dreamy. Perhaps it was the light, desaturated tone in their color, or maybe the fact her upper eyelashes were more prominent than the lower ones, complimenting the very vague eyebags her face always wore.

She used to wear a star hairclip as well, but now that her earring was visible at all times she felt it would cause a "star overdose", so she only wore it occasionally now.

She also sported a tie, the same teal as her eyes, though with more saturation, with a sharp-looking collar to match it. Sometimes she wore a plaid skirt that ended right above her knees as well, but she felt they were slightly uncomfortable, so she usually resorted to pants that matched her black platform boots with beads around the laces.

The same voice that had asked Kumiro about the blade she grabbed, spoke again;"Ya~ayy! Nice work Atsushi!"

"Thank you, Dazai!"

Dazai walked forward from having leaned against the wall, and when Atsushi wanted to to climb up to join the rest on the part of the floor that hadn't sunken, he stopped him by saying: "Atatatata! There's a citizen we need to care of, riiight?"

Kumiro did deem this important, but there was another thing she wanted to address first; "Um. By the way, Dazai."

She looked over at him with a kind of judging look in her teal eyes.

"Yeees?"

"Is it just me, or have you not done anything?"

"..."

He looked over at her, the look on his face the same, still smiling, but the mood in his eyes slightly different.

"...?"

"DON'T PLAY DUMB!", she yelled.

"Heh! Well, but you managed, right? No need for me to butt in!"

She exhaled as she turned her head forward, slightly down, closed her eyes and sighed. "eheh!" was Dazai's response.

"Kuuma. Are your hands alright?" Atsushi asked from down below."Oh! Uh, well, we have Yosano, so no need to worry, right?"

Yosano was the Armed Detective Agency's doctor. Her ability allowed her to heal any wound, as long as it's lethal. And thus, for treating small wounds, she needed to almost kill her patient first.

"Yeah, um, actually, I kinda don't wanna go to her--! Heh. Ah, and also, shouldn't you be helping that girlie behind you?"

"Ah!"

Atsushi turned around and looked at the citizen the Nightmare had come from. She had woken up by now.

"...??????"

She appeared slightly frightened by the mess her room had become.

A sunken floor, a broken table, a shattered window, and holes and cracks in her walls and ceiling.

Atsushi tried to comfort her slightly;

"Yeah, um... sorry. You had a nightmare. It took a while to take care of it..."

Dazai jumped down with his hands in his pockets, his coat swaying behind him, and landed besides Atsushi.

"Zamn, that man has stable legs to be able to jump that far down," Kumiro commented.

Atsushi had transformed back by now, but his stable tiger limbs had allowed him to land safely whenever he jumped.

"Oi! Girliepop!" Kumiro yelled down, "what did you dream about? What did it look like? Did you see black mist? Was something trying to kill you? Wh-GH--"

Her sentence ended with uncomprehensible noises, as she was cut off when Kenji spoke instead.

"Wait until she knows what happened", he said.

"My bad."

Kumiro was a psychology student, and she was very interested in dreams and the subconcious, so the Nightmares awakened her interest greatly. She wanted to find out what caused them, what the dreamer sees, if they can stop it themselves, and much more.

She was very perceptive and almost immediately knew how someone felt by looking at them, and she took great care in respecting others; she tried to objectively rationalize why people, including herself, were acting the way they did or why they felt what they felt, but some interests pushed away that perceptiveness, craving to collect as much knowledge as she could get.

After explaining what had happened to the citizen and (somewhat) taking care of the mess they'd made, and also after getting the knowledge Kumiro wanted, the Agency walked out of the building and headed on to spot more nightmares. When they didn't see any, but instead saw the sun rise, they took themselves back to the agency.

"The agency's gonna go broke if stuff like this keeps happening.", Kuuma sighed.

She pat Dazai on the back with her hand, which she had washed the blood off of and cleaned at the building they practically demolished, and continued;

"Good luck."

"Hm? With what?"

"DAZAAAII!"

Kunikida came storming out of the front door. He ran up to Dazai, loosely grabbed him by the neck and started swaying him back and forth.

"Kunikiiiida-kuuuun...", Dazai replied in a whiny voice, but that didn't help his situation.

"STOP COMPLAINING! YOU'RE IN THE WRONG HERE!"

"Ah--eh--n." Kumiro wanted to stop him, but not only had Dazai not done anything to fight off the nightmare, he hadn't helped clean their mess, and even told the girl that if she wanted to die, she should do it with him. She wasn't really sure how to excuse him.

"...good luck explaining that", she whispered to herself.

[theweedisasterxoxo]

All I Want Is To Feel Good

let’s ignore that i said i wouldn’t be posting today, it’s 05:04 at the time of writing this and i turned 19 three hours ago so i’m having my fun writing! i also got tattooed yesterday as a little early birthday present for myself and i am i looooove with it!!

—

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings/Content: sleazy!joel (kinda), petnames (“darlin’”, “little bird”, “babydoll”, “baby”, “honey”), inexperienced reader, mentions of bad sex (not with joel), badly-written foreplay (idk, my ex’s friend literally told me about foreplay the other week), able-bodied reader, AFAB reader, reader wears a dress, reader is also a little silly and leaves her friends at the bar without letting them know, alcohol consumption (not a lot, like one drink), aftercare is implied (again, my ex’s friend taught me about aftercare)

Word Count: 1943

—

The term thrilled is a vast overstatement to what you’re feeling. After all, what is so thrilling about standing alone in the corner of some up-and-coming club while watching your friends revel in the attention they receive from being charismatic and outgoing? You watch as their bodies mix with other’s, shining with sweat and glitter as they sway to the rhythm of the too-loud song that’s blasting from the speakers. You’re happy for them, you are, but you know that this night out was never meant to include you — the only reason you’d been invited was because your friends, bless their hearts, had picked up on the ever-swirling cloud of despair that lingered around you.

So, with a sigh, you take a sip of the peculiar blue concoction that your friend had insisted would be perfect for you. Despite the wince your face scrunches in as it slides down your throat, you can’t help but to agree with her. Truthfully you trust her opinion more often than not, so if she tells you that you’ll enjoy something you know that you will. Although she also told you that you’d enjoy yourself tonight and you can’t help but to wonder how right she is; here you are, resigned to a corner with a strange blue drink in a club you hardly know.

“You’re lookin’ awful lonely over here,” somebody to your right says. It sends you tumbling from the comforting confines of your mind and back into the present, where everything is much too loud, vibrant, and simply unpleasant on your eyes. A bitterness creeps down your throat and takes root in your stomach and you frown, furrowing your brows, when you get a glimpse of the man who interrupted your thoughts. It isn’t his business at all — it shouldn’t be his business — but with the ever-changing lights providing very little opportunities to get a proper look at him, catching the greys of his scruffy beard just-so and drawing your attention to his broad frame that pulls his t-shirt tight over his torso, you figure there’s not much harm in indulging him. He leans forward and speaks again, into your ear this time, with such a low tone of voice you’re sure you can feel it reverberating and rumbling through the air between the two of you, “Didn’t feel like dancin’, little bird?”

You bring your free hand over the top of your cup, shrugging. His body slightly bounces to the beat of the song, clearly enjoying himself while he talks to you.

“Easy, darlin’,” he brings his hands up, palms-out, in a gesture meant to placate you. “Ain’t got a need for things like that; I don’t have any trouble gettin’ a girl to leave with me.”

“Charming,” you tell him with a sneer, narrowing your eyes. “And humble.”

He imitated your earlier gesture and shrugs in response before he brings his right hand up to scratch his beard, continuing, “Just sayin’, s’not my fault girls climb me like a tree when they see me. Reminds me, you don’t happen to be a Koala, do you? I got a tree right here you can—“

“Wow,” you mutter, eyebrows raised now. With as much energy you can muster you glare at him. “You just keep getting better, don’t you?”

“S’what the ladies tell me,” you think he winks when he says that but the lights really don’t give much away. “Anyway, that don’t answer my question, little bird.”

His breath ghosting over the expanse of your neck and the rumble of his voice so close to your ear sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

“Dancing isn’t my thing,” you say before tilting your head back and draining the last of your drink from the glass, coating your top lip with the bitter-sweet drink. A little bit leaks from the corner of your lip and, with a freakish ease behind his movement, the man used his thumb to swipe it away before it drips onto your pretty dress — one that you never would have worn over the past year, so red and downright dangerous — and takes you by surprise by slowly slipping his thumb against his lips, tasting the barely-spilled drink.

“You as sweet as that drink, babydoll?” He asks. You’re not sure why you’re as accepting of this strange question as you are, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t awaken some hungry sort of beast inside you that had lain dormant for quite some time. It nestles in your lower belly, seeping dangerously close to another lower region, as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“How about you find out?” You’re not sure where that came from, but now it’s been said you can’t take it back. You don’t want to take it back.

He grins and leads you out in no time, whispering some of the foulest phrases you’ve possible ever heard in that sweet, sweet drawl of his. Then, when you get out into the street, you get a proper look at him under the streetlights; he’s on the older side - at least a few years older than you - and his hair curls around his ears, greying just like the scruffy beard. His eyes are curiously taking you in and it makes you shuffle under his gaze before he leads you to his car, opening the passenger side door for you and closing it once you’re in. Then he climbs into the driver’s side and starts the car.

“Y’wanna head to your place, little bird?”

You nod, mumbling your name as you fasten the seatbelt across your chest, struggling with the fabric of your dress that rides up your thigh in this new position; without looking, he guides his hand down to your thigh and pulls the fabric just so to ensure you’re covered. He keeps his hand there, easing his thumb in a back and forth motion over your skin.

\\\\\

You can’t consider it being too much later when you arrive at your house after giving him the best directions to ensure you’re there soon. There’s barely enough time to take off your shoes before you’re pressed against him, unsure of who initiated the first kiss, and travelling awkwardly to your bedroom.

It’s in there that you learn how his hands are far more gentle than his words. He has you both on your bed, in various states of undress, as they trail down your body to come to a stop over the swell of your thighs. With a gentle rub, he meets your lips again. And again. And again.

You learn how he enjoys having your fingers carding through his hair as you press closer to him.

You learn his name: Joel. You try it out on your tongue in a soft, timid way as if you’d just learnt your teacher’s first name. Like that cross between graduating and seeing your old teachers as people too.

You learn your favourite path of kisses, the one he trails down your sternum. The one he pays attention to when your back arches off the bed in an attempt to receive more, and how he eagerly obliges.

Then he’s descending once more and you shift yourself so you’re propped up on your elbows, watching him with a furrowed brow of confusion. You ask, breathlessly, “What’re you doing?”

“Getting y’ready for me,” he tells you, as if it’s obvious.

“Why?”

An incredulous, humourless sort of chuckle leaves his lips and his own brows raise in what you guess is confusion. “Don’t tell me nobody’s never taken the time t’give you some lovin’ ‘fore the main event.”

You remain silent, thinking back to all those times with your ex. How he had always been in such a rush to bury himself inside you that he gave you no proper warning or preparation. How he’d awkwardly intertwine his body with your own in manners that were, quite frankly, always uncomfortable.

“Darlin’,” Joel murmurs with a gentle shake of his head. His voice is a lot more serious than you’d ever expect. “You do know what we’re doin’ here, right?”

You want to feel offended by the insinuation that you were clueless but then the more rational part of you realises that he’s being considerate. He’s not forcing you into anything — he’s asking if you understand what’s happening. With a gentle sigh you look back at him, still lying between your legs. “I know what we’re doing, Joel. It’s just— I’ve never had…”

Joel doesn’t miss the way your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue. The way your lips shut tightly, discolouring slightly with the pressure you put on them. He nods once and kisses his way back up your body, stopping at the expanse of your neck. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

“Joel—“

“Nuh-uh,” he interrupts, placing a large finger over your lips. “Takin’ it slow, I’ll walk you through it. Okay, baby?”

There’s a moment of silence that’s then broken quickly by the soft wet sounds of the open-mouthed kisses he lays over the expanse of your neck, then the valley between your breasts while his hands palm them greedily. He revels in the sweet sounds you make as he takes his time to know your body, clutching at him desperately when he brushes your most sensitive areas.

“Oh, there you go, honey. There you go. Good.”

\\\\\

By the time morning’s come around, you’re both utterly spent; the night had lasted longer than you thought possible in all the right ways. He brought you to a shuddering bliss that you’d rarely ever felt, drawing out your pleasure as he whispered filthy sweet nothings in your ear. He simply allowed you to feel how every nerve came alive under his touch, working your body with more determination and diligence than any other man ever had. And, yes, you know it’s a huge cliché — you don’t care about that, though, when you feel his arms wrap around your bare torso, when you feel his face nuzzle against the back of your neck as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your back, just over your spine.

“Mornin’,” Joel says, voice muffled by the skin of your neck. A bubbly giggle escapes your lips when the scruff of his beard tickles your sensitive morning-body. You roll over to face him, running your hand through his messy bed-head, and grin back at him after seeing his own sleepy smile. His eyes flit over your features with a kindness you wouldn’t attribute to him had you not just spent the night getting to know all of his kindness. He continues, “Did’ya sleep well?”

Your response comes in the form of a nod. You are still very much content from the night’s activities, so you blink slowly and stretch your body out in a lazy sprawl of faintly cracking limbs.

Joel just grins at you and pulls you closer to him, rubbing his nose just under your earlobe. “Told you I ain’t never had any problems with the Lady-Folk.”

“You need humbling,” you tell him as you bite back another giggle. He was right, though, and he knew it — he knew the benefits that came from him being an attentive and kind lover. Despite his rough edges, he didn’t let any of him go to waste. Then, you’re in your own mind again as you think that Joel wasn’t the only one who was right. After all, your friend did tell you that you’d enjoy the night and it certainly wasn’t a letdown. You enjoyed it over. And over… And over.

Perhaps you never should have doubted her in the first place.

—

hopefully y’all enjoyed this!

tags: @endlessthxxghts @strang3lov3 @janaispunk @beefrobeefcal @joelsflower