#how can you tell me you like me and want to spend time with me and other such things but can’t barely even speak to me on the day to day?

[lizardho]

Before I knew I was bisexual I was just insanely dramatic and weird around guys I liked. I had a crush on this guy in my ward - he was older than me, he played bagpipes and had a cheerful dog and an old Volkswagen bus that he worked on all the time. He also had nice scruff and unnaturally attractive hands and a good sense of humor, so I was like FULLY smitten.

I talked about him a lot and about how he was just so dang COOL, dang it, because he was so frickin’ cool. And I really liked him. I thought he was funny and smart and interesting and cool and fascinating and a bunch of other weird feelings I barely had the attention span to think about (I think my ADHD may have prevented me from coming out for a while tbh).

One day, I’m like 14-15, his dad is called to be my Sunday School teacher. His dad is this ex-military hardass with a chip on his shoulder for absolutely no reason and unattainable standards for his children. He spent most of Sunday School talking shit about his eldest boy and how he was rebellious and didn’t listen to him and how that was going to make him a bad adult and a bad son forever. How his son was too lazy and unmotivated to be successful because he didn’t listen to his advice on how to read the scriptures. He complained about how our generation was too weak to do things right and that our generation would surely be the one that brought the world’s downfall because of our laziness and sin.

And like, first of all, that guy can already go fuck himself for that. To clarify, that’s already stupid. BUT. He was talking about the man I had uncomfortable dreams about at least once a month. I couldn’t stand it. I’d get so mad I’d go home shaking sometimes because how fucking DARE he insult his hardworking stunning son by calling him lazy? For not reading the Bible the way his dad wants? When he’s already spending his time learning bagpipes? And fixing cars? And being cool? And cute? Who the fuck even cares if he uses the footnotes in the Book of Mormon? Who gives a rotten rat’s ass if he doesn’t use the scripture study manual his dad uses? He’s so cool he doesn’t even need it? So fuck off?

And eventually I got fucking Sick Of It and decided to mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean skip class. I’d just not go. And after a bit, adults started noticing and bugging me about it. At first, this was put off by small talk and excuses, but as my absence from Sunday School became more well-known, my excuses began to be rejected.

“Oh, Lizard, why aren’t you in class?” Uhm idk because my Sunday School teacher is mean to his kid and that makes me so mad wtf do you want from me? 🫠🤔

“Where’s your class, I’ll go with you!” Oh no ty I’d rather peel my own eyes than have my taste in men critiqued tyty 🩷

“Lizard, you should go to class, I’m sure they miss you!” And I miss the innocent days where my stomach didn’t hurt when a cool boy I knew was being belittled but unfortunately for us both those days are LONG gone and all that’s left is a budding psychosexual clusterfuck that will render me almost fully incapable of functioning for the better part of a decade so Bye Bye, sister Smith 🙂‍↕️

It had gotten to the point that ward leadership was involved. I was being approached by members of the Young Men’s presidency and the Bishopric to try and make me to back to class. They were telling me God had told them to find me and instruct me on my rebelliousness. This is where I implemented my secret weapon - women. Mormons are weird as hell about a lot of things, but especially about women. And I was GREAT with women. So to combat the leadership’s attention, I started helping women.

Our ward had a lot of new moms with babies who were, as babies tend to be, fussy. But for Mormon women the church is often their only social outlet, so they try to power through as long as they can even if it means enduring the exhausting ordeal of taking care of a fussy baby at church.

For what it’s worth, I have a lot of sway with babies. I got baby street cred. Me and babies have a rapport. I have always known this. I have always loved this. And in this crucial gay time in my faggot life my baby mind powers came in clutch - Every time I saw a member of the bishopric getting close, or a young men’s leader giving me side-eye, I’d start walking slowly towards class, passing by relief society. I’d wait until a mom’s baby had gotten too fussy and needed to leave the room, and I’d swoop in like a knight. “Oh, don’t you worry sister, I’ll bounce him a bit. You go back and hang out with your friends in class. You deserve a break.”

If it was a diaper change or something they’d tell me no. But if it was just some good old-fashioned baby fusses, I mean, they’d be moved almost to tears. They just got their social time back AND a free babysitter who is renowned as the Baby Whisperer. And because I was holding a baby as a favor for someone else, I of course could not reasonably be bothered to return to class.

So just like that, I was out of everyone’s sights. This went on for about a month before the straw that broke the camel’s back, which was that without my class participation the classes were quiet and awkward. I’d often take the brunt of Sunday school lectures by answering questions impulsively and over explaining myself enough that the clock could run out without anyone needing to do or say much. My absence meant everyone else was getting hit with the full unpleasantness of this guy’s bullshit. And so slowly, one-by-one, I had a group of about 8 kids on baby-holding duty. These new moms were so overjoyed, they and their husbands were both so actively in our corner that now chastising us was untenable. Now we had bargaining power. So the Bishopric approached us, confused beyond confused and uncomfortable beyond uncomfortable, and said,

“What’s it gonna take to get you back to class?”

The POWER I possessed in that moment was addictive. By being kind to the women of the ward and ignoring the Mormon de facto Rule of Law of following rules en-masse so the rule breakers feel left out, there were now so many people breaking ranks that we had effectively enacted a church boy labor strike. And they crumbled so fast it was almost like we had swayed God himself to our cause.

“I want brother assholedad gone. He sucks at teaching.”

I didn’t even have to say it. One of my rebels said it for me. I just nodded sagely and said “Yes, his class is not edifying. It’s better to not go and hold babies.”

And just like that, with a snap of my limp-wristed, Christ-wounding, bottom-brained fingers my faggot will was enacted. God’s revelation that brother shitdad was his chosen Sunday school teacher flipped on a dime. Suddenly brother shitdad was asked to be an usher and the fun dad of another one of my crushes was called in to teach us. I still stayed to hold babies a lot, but the rest of the class returned and all was well again.

Although I didn’t recognize it then, I think that was a formative moment for me in a lot of ways. I learned that being really persistently annoying will get me what I want from authority eventually. I learned that God’s will can be swayed by going in strike. I learned that ignoring men’s made up authority forces them to level with you as a person. I learned that caring for women, especially vulnerable women, can make a whole world happier. I learned that letting women rest can help them feel more love for the things that matter in their life. I learned that social bonds make everyone stronger and happier. And I learned that loving others in a gay way can change the world.

Be gayer. Read Terry Pratchett. I love y’all 💕

[jayparked]

miscommunication - heeseung's version

PAIRING: best friend heeseung x female reader WORD COUNT: 2.1k GENRE: crack, smut ; mdni AU: best friends to lovers(finally) WARNINGS: unprotected sex, dirty talk, strong language, nipple play, creampie SNAIL TRAIL: i decided to go about this different than how i originally planned so here is all of heeseung's texts AND his written part! thank you to @sungbeams and @dazzlingjaeyun for looking over this and thank you to all my tickets in the jayparked's garage discord server💛 to get updates and previews on my work before they get posted, join here(18+)

♡ ot7 texts part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five ; part six ; part seven; part eight ♡ ♡ heeseung ; jay ; jake ; sunghoon ; sunoo ; jungwon ; riki ♡

You hear a rapid thundering of feet coming up the stairs towards your bedroom, but the sound stops right at the top. It’s hard not to laugh to yourself when you hear a soft knock on your door, picturing Heeseung collecting himself to not appear as eager as he probably is.

You sit up on your bed, still completely naked, and walk towards the door. It’s hard not to feel nervous, self doubt running rampant throughout your mind. You and Heeseung have been friends for such a long time, but you’ve been denying your feelings for him for just as long. It was hard to deny your crush for so long, but what kept you strong was the thought that someone like Lee Heeseung could never like someone average like you. So you were comfortable with just being his friend, doing everything you could to shove those feelings deep down. Years went by and the two of you became closer than ever. So close, in fact, that he was your emergency contact at work. And then you sent that stupid text that changed everything.

You thought he was just joking around at first, making fun of you even. But as more typos arose (some mistakes and some intentional), it was hard to convince yourself that he was merely messing around.

The doorknob is cold against your palm when you turn it.

You brace yourself to greet your friend, but before you can fully open your mouth, Heeseung’s large hands are cupping your face, his quivering lips inches from yours.

“Please tell me you meant it,” he whispers, thumbs brushing against your cheeks lightly, “please tell me you’re sure.”

Mouth dropping open slightly, the words don’t seem to want to come out. Seeing Heeseung’s hooded gaze and feeling the warmth of his hands against your skin is overwhelming. You used to dream of this, used to spend countless hours during the days and nights wondering what it would be like to be in a moment with him such as this.

Even though you’re naked in front of him, Heeseung’s eyes never leave yours and that small detail has your entire body feeling warm, a sense of comfort blooming in your chest. It’s enough for your voice to finally come back to you.

“Yes-” You don’t even get a chance to say ‘please’ like you were planning. Heeseung’s lips are against yours in a deep, passionate kiss. It’s slow and deliberate at first, the two of you finally exploring one another. Heeseung is savoring the feeling, getting lost in the way you sigh against his mouth. One of his hands pushes back into your hair, tugging slightly while the other moves down to your waist, pulling you closer. 

Despite the urgency between you two, Heeseung’s touch remains gentle, cherishing how it feels to have your bare skin in his grasp. With a groan, Heeseung pulls away from you and finally allows his eyes to wander over your body. 

“Wow,” he exhales, taking one of your hands and holding it above your head and spinning you around. Your eyes widen, suddenly feeling very aware of how clothed he is versus yourself. Plus, you’ve never had someone spin you around to gawk at you like this before. You feel the heat rise to your face so you quickly fold into yourself, covering your embarrassment with your hands. 

“Hey,” Heeseung places his hand under your chin to lift your gaze back on him, “there’s no need to be shy. You look amazing — even better than I ever imagined. You’re so beautiful.” He leans forward and leaves a soft trail of kisses from your jawline to your nose, pulling you closer to him again. The scent of his citrusy cologne makes you sigh, gripping his shirt sleeves as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. Heeseung continues to kiss your skin, now on your shoulders and it feels so good. Your mind can’t process anything else other than how hot his lips feel against your body and how every cell within you seems to be dancing. This must be what TV static feels like and oh, is it addicting. Yet, at the same time, it feels like you’re starting to drown.

“Heeseung,” you moan, pushing him away gently to catch your breath. His eyes are hooded and dark with lust, his fingers still gripping your waist desperately. He nods his head at you, urging you to continue your sentence. But his eye contact is so intense you lose your thoughts completely. So, instead of attempting to fumble over some improved words, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him with you back towards your bed.

Heeseung chuckles lowly under his breath, letting you lead him as you please. He bites his bottom lip and just when the back of your legs are about to hit your bed, Heeseung hoists you up and throws you onto the bed, a soft gasp leaving your lips. Before your body can even settle into your comforter, Heeseung is leaning over you with one knee in between your legs.

“Did you ever say if you prepped yourself or not?” Heeseung licks his lips again, his gaze roaming over your body. You shake your head no, making Heeseung tsk. “And I was so ready to just eat you up. I guess I’ll play with you for a bit.”

You hiss as you feel Heeseung’s fingers slip between your folds, gathering your slick in a circular motion before inserting a digit into your hole. His mouth falls open in pleasurable surprise as you open your own to moan, arching your back as he pistons his finger in and out of you. “Oh, look at you, wow.” Heeseung takes his free hand and places it onto one of your knees to spread your legs further apart, cooing at you in awe at the sounds your body is making in response to his touch. 

You’re grasping onto Heeseung’s biceps for dear life, not yet completely taken over by bliss. Because at this moment you’re really irritated that he’s still fully clothed. 

Seeing your furrowed brows and pout, Heeseung frowns and slows his movement. “Am I not doing this right?”

Panicking, you reach up and cusp his face, “No, no! I just-”

“You just what?”

“You’re not naked.”

A devilish smirk blooms on Heeseung’s face as he stops his movements completely, sitting upright. He massages his hands against your knees and although he appears confident and in control, you don’t miss the blush freckling his cheeks. 

“You want me naked?” He moves his hands to grasp the end of his shirt, looking like he’s about to take it off but holds his stance instead. One eyebrow raises up at you, waiting for your response before moving forward.

“Yes,” you huff, “please.”

“Saying please,” Heeseung continues his smirk, shaking his head to get his hair out of his eyes, “you’re already so good to me.” In one fluid motion Heeseung removes his shirt and tosses it to the side, moving quickly to unbutton his pants. If it were any other moment, Heeseung would have probably teased you more, taking his time to remove his pants and maybe just leave his pants on and unbuttoned while he plays with your pussy some more. But he can’t deny it, his patience is thin and he’s been waiting for this moment for far too long to put it off any longer.

A slight gasp leaves your lips as Heeseung pushes his pants and boxers down his legs, his cock springing out. He’s already painfully hard, a bead of precum visible on his tip. Kicking his pants to the side, Heeseung palms at himself, moving back to his spot between your legs. “This what you want?” Heeseung grunts with satisfaction at your nodding head, mouth open and eyes wide as you shamelessly stare at his body.

Your heart is racing unbelievably fast and you can’t help but feel like this might be some twistedly realistic dream your brain has concocted. But when you feel the tip of Heeseung cock slide up and down your folds, bumping against your clit before he pushes his length inside you, you know that there’s no way your brain could come up with a feeling quite like this on its own. 

You sigh when Heeseung bottoms out, his own breathing haggard. Taking a moment, Heeseung adjusts your legs so that they’re hooked around his waist, kissing one of your knees briefly as he sets it in place.

“God,” he hisses, “you’re so tight. You needed this? Needed to be fucked by me?” He starts to move his hips, slightly pulling himself out before slamming back in. All you can muster is a weak whimper, but Heeseung isn’t happy with that.

“Use your words, let me hear your pretty voice.” Heeseung flicks a thumb over your nipple before grasping your tits in his hands, squeezing as he pounds into you. The dual stimulation has your eyes rolling back; how can he expect you to make complete sentences when it feels like your body is levitating in pleasure?

Still, you try.

“Y-ye-yes! Ne-eeded you so baaaad.” You moan loudly when he adjusts his hips slightly, rolling your nipple between two fingers as he quickens his pace. He moans with you, eyes focused on the way your mouth falls open with his name spilling past your lips in a fervent cry.

“You must have thought it was so funny to mess with me for so long, huh? Thought it was funny to get me all riled up? You like messing with my head? Fuck, keep clenching me like that it feels so good when you do that.” Heeseung is rambling, speaking unbelievably fast the more he thrusts into you. The knot in your stomach tightens and you can feel the brink of your orgasm about to snap. 

Heeseung is still muttering about all the typos you’ve sent him and what it did to him, but all you can focus on is the way his hips start to stutter, his pace faltering, so you interrupt him with one last request.

“Come inside me,” you gasp out quickly.

“W-what?” Heeseung’s thrusts stutter, his brain dizzy with your words. 

“I’m about to come, please come inside me.” Your head falls back, it’s getting more difficult to hang onto your sanity when your body desperately wants to release.

“Fuck. You can’t say shit like that, Y/n.” Heeseung flicks at your nipples again, his thrusts gaining new momentum as he chases his high. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Heeseung moans out with one final hard thrust, spilling into you just as your orgasm hits.

A few more languid pumps is all Heeseung can muster before pulling out of you, moving his body down so he can watch his seed spill from your hole. You can feel his heavy breath against your skin, making your shudders feel more violent as you come down from your high. 

Chuckling, Heeseung spreads your legs wider, watching his cum spill down onto the bedding. “Wow. That was a lot.” He looks up at you finally and sees the way your chest is still heaving as you try to catch your breath. Quickly moving back up the bed, Heeseung turns your body so your back is flushed against his chest, pulling you closer to him in a tight embrace. Gentle kisses flutter across your skin as Heeseung murmurs soft praises to you, holding you close enough that you can feel his heartbeat against your back. 

“You’re mine now,” Heeseung grumbles into your neck, nuzzling against your hair and letting out a soft sigh of relief. 

Smacking his arm lightly without turning to look at him, you giggle at him, “You can’t say stuff like that!”

“But you are,” Heeseung pouts, his grip on you tightening, “‘m not letting you go now.”

Turning to face him, you can’t help but smile at his sleepy face, nudging your nose against his. “I guess I can be okay with that.”

With his eyes closed, Heeseung kisses your forehead, rubbing his hand lazily up and down your back. “Good. Cause I’ve wanted this for a while now.”

You smile to yourself, placing a hand against Heeseung’s warm cheek. You watch as he drifts to sleep, his eyelashes fluttering slightly with each exhale. A part of you wants to wake him up and finally tell him just how much you’ve been wanting this too. But, for now, you’ll savor this moment being in his arms, thankful for every stupid text you accidentally sent him.

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 03/23/25 do not copy, repost, or translate. if you're inspired to create something similar to my work, please credit me

[luveline]

i just saw someone on tiktok say “behind every girl that always wants to be around their partner is a little who’s dad didn’t choose her.” with aaron pls :(( and reader reveals her daddy issues? xxx

—hotch comforts you when you worry you depend on him for the wrong reasons. fem, 2k

You were aware of the irony. Girl who hates her father latches onto the first older man to give her any positive attention: the framing isn’t complimentary to either of you, and it’s not true, really. You love Aaron because he’s kind, and he’s handsome, and because he loves you first. You won’t pretend he’s perfect even if he might say that about you. He doesn’t have to be. 

Aaron is kind where all the other men in your life have been cruel. He is the person you go to when things go wrong, even if you don’t expect him to fix things for you. You know you have ‘daddy issues’, and you don’t want them to affect how you and Aaron are when you’re together, but it’s obvious to the both of you that you crave being looked after. The way Aaron takes care of you absolutely factors into why you love him. 

He wraps the tail end of your scarf into your coat and flattens the lump of it until it’s under your chin. “Alright?” he asks, not expecting an answer as he turns away to grab his own scarf. “Will that coat be warm enough? It might be a few hours.” 

“Fine. We’ll be inside most of the time.” 

“Mm,” he hums, reaching back to pinch your side. You laugh and he smiles but doesn’t say anything further, pulling open the front door, and holding it for you until you’re on the porch. 

“You know you don’t have to… spoil him, so much,” you say lightly. 

“It’s not spoiling, he only wants a few things.” 

You’d personally felt that Jack’s birthday wish list was a bit long, but you don’t care. You don’t have a vendetta against Jack's happiness. If Aaron wants to spend half a paycheck (alright, a quarter, if that) on some toys, he should do it. But he probably knows already that Jack won’t care if he doesn’t get all of that stuff. “I didn’t get half as much for my birthdays,” you say. 

“Believe me, honey, neither did I.” 

“One year someone’s mom got me a full box set of movies though. That was a good one.” 

“One year, I got two different pagers.” He snorts. “And now they’re useless.” 

“I never used a pager.” 

Aaron goes a bit red, self-shame or something silly like that. “Don’t tell me that.” 

“Cradle snatcher.” 

“Stop, that’s not funny.” 

It’s funny. You aren’t shockingly younger than Aaron but it’s definitely enough time to see the difference (not that you care, you quite like him with his permanent wrinkle between his brows and his big, big hands). “I really haven’t. I know what they are, of course, but I went straight to a cell phone.” 

He grumbles something unheard. Together, you get into his car and drive to the shopping centre nearest the house, a maze of storefronts with outdoor entrances, like a mall that’s been shaken and thrown out over two streets. It’s not entertaining but in a way, it’s good. Aaron holds your hand and you can walk around with your head held high, proud to be a well-dressed, in love-looking partnership. See, your face says to anyone who’ll look, I’m well-loved. 

After an hour or two he kisses your cheek and decides aloud that you need dinner. He doesn’t ask if you’re hungry, he just chooses, and you love it. 

“Thank you for letting me come today,” you say, sitting across from him behind a dinner plate and a towering glass of lemon water. 

“Did I let you?” he asks, distracted by his steak and fries, though he sounds as loving as usual. 

“You could’ve said no.” 

“I have no reason to. I like when you’re with me. Thank you for letting me bring you, then, and boring you half to death.” 

“Freezing me the other half.” 

“Ah, so smart, so clever,” he murmurs. 

“Witty.” 

“Always, aren’t you?” 

You wonder about the dessert menu, find your mouth working of its own accord. “It doesn’t feel believable, sometimes. That you want me around so much.” 

He pauses, resting his knife across his fork. With a free hand, he gestures to your hand. “Would you like more proof?” 

You aren’t sure what he means, the tennis bracelet he got you for your first anniversary, or the engagement ring that sits heavily on your marriage finger waiting to be traded for a golden band. Maybe he means the teeny silver bracelet that falls down your arm whenever you move, that one just for fun. 

“Not,” he says slowly, his eyes squinted to tell you that you’re caught, “that jewellery should be your sole proof.” 

“Would you like to prove it to me now?” 

He reaches over to squeeze your hand. “I want you around all of the time. If I could I’d have us sewn together at the hip.” He’s grinning, thumbing against your knuckles. “It might not be comfortable at night when you’re trying to climb all over me.” 

“You climb all over me, Hotchner, don’t lie.” 

Aaron nods appreciatively. “That’s right. You’re the second most important thing in my life, and that’s not your fault, only Jack is so endearing.” 

“He’s a lucky kid.” 

“No, he’s not,” Aaron says gently, “but I really do love him.” 

“Of course he’s lucky. He has a dad who loves him to pieces, his Aunt Jess is like, superwoman, and– you know, I know I’m not the same as that, but I love him.”

“You look after him,” Aaron says. 

“It’s honestly just nice that you seem to like him. You don’t act like he’s an annoyance for you, you aren’t angry to have to come out today to get him his presents.” 

“Well, no. It’s not something to be angry about. When you have kids, you’re signing up for every part of having them.” 

“I know.” 

He takes a sip of his drink and puts it down beside your own in what you know to be him buying a little time. “Honey, is there something… I don’t know, something you want to talk about? Is it Jack's birthday…?”

You feel your heart fall into your mouth, as though it began life somewhere else, heartbeat mortified on your tongue. He sees you fluster and immediately softens, turning your hand in his to stroke along the inside of your wrist. 

“Nevermind,” he says. 

“No.” You clear your throat. “It’s not about Jack’s birthday. It’s just… you know you weren’t always the best father you could’ve been.” 

He nods. “I do.” 

“But you are now. You’ve made sacrifices, you– you chose Jack.” 

“I couldn’t not.” You’re quiet. He understands. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to talk about it now. Would that be better? You can think about what you have to say, and I promise I’ll listen without judging you when you’re ready to tell me about it. Okay?” He gives your wrist a squeeze. “You aren’t upset, are you?” 

“I’m just thinking.” 

“Are you too distracted for dessert?” 

You let Aaron pick one for you. Let him pay the bill, he’d be insulted if you even asked about splitting it, and he might genuinely get annoyed if you offered yourself. You usually love it. Someone loves you enough that money is practically immaterial. Just last month he had to have the roof of the house redone, and you know his money isn’t infinite, as does he, and yet it didn’t stop you from being spoiled, because any money he has was money shared. You know if he suddenly turned pauper he’d still spoil you, same way you’re spoiled with soft touches and less chores than you should take. 

“You know I don’t think of you as my father, right?” you ask. 

Aaron chokes on a startled laugh. “Of course I do,” he says, coughing, clutching your elbow. 

“So if I tell you that sometimes the way you treat me reminds me of my father, you won’t take it the wrong way?” 

“No.” He smiles where he should frown, wraps an arm behind your back when he should be judging you. “Men are still men. And I am a father, so it makes sense that you’d have those connotations in mind sometimes.” 

“I don’t want you to be my dad, but I do wonder… I wonder if I want to be around you so much because my father didn’t want to be around me. Does that make sense?” 

“I think it makes sense to wonder about it,” he says diplomatically. 

You’re nearly back to the car and this is a strange place to bare your heart, but it’s not so dramatic, you suppose. “I just think that sometimes I cling to you so much, and it must be– I’m insecure about you.”

“Mm, but you have no reason to be,” he says, pulling you closer still, his fingers aligned against your ribs and warming through your layers. 

“My father didn’t like me, not like you like Jack. There were things that were far more important to him. But with you, I’m important, and– and I know it’s not the same relationship, but–” You groan, not sure what you’re trying to say to him, or what you want him to understand. 

“My father didn’t like me, either,” Aaron says, encouraging you to keep walking to the car. “He was not a nice person. And it absolutely affected how I feel now, even if I don’t always think about him. The way he treated me when I was young influenced the person I am now. And looking for the things I wish he was, looking for kindness, for a gentle partner, it doesn’t mean that I need a placeholder for him, does it? I know what you’re saying to me. Don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to be looked after.” 

You can’t help breathing out a sigh of relief. “Right.” 

“I’ve never been a young woman, and I don’t have a daughter, but it’s not hard to imagine how you felt. It’s okay to wish you’d been loved properly.” 

“I was never a daddy’s girl,” you confess. 

“It’s not fair. Everyone wants to be treasured when they're a kid. And it makes sense that you’re still looking for that feeling. We both know it’s not the same, but I really will look after you.” He smiles. “Okay?” 

“Okay. Sorry if it’s too weird.” 

“It’s not weird to want someone who takes care of you.” 

You bring your hands to his face. They’re smaller than his, you’ve shorter fingers with softer palms, but they fit perfectly on his cheeks. You tease the scratchy hill of his chin with your thumb before closing your eyes, reaching up for a kiss. The bags hanging from your elbows crack, crushed as Aaron gets his hands behind your back to hold you. 

“You’re too good to me,” you say softly, returning flat to your heels. 

Aaron pulls your face back to kiss your cheek. “You deserve everything you get, honey. I promise.” 

[tiramissyoucake]

when do you think that viltrumite mark realized he was in love and how did he first process that??

FUCK YEAH i got carried away here im sorry, dkskfke I had some trouble thinking of this, how would he know reader? Why would he want them? Then this post came to mind.

Something tells me Mark would believe that earth is beautiful, yes. But there's too many evils persisting and leeching off it that it's dying a slow and painful death, he believes he's your liberator.

"So, where IS Viltrum?"

Mark looked up from the telescope you provided, blinking twice. "... it's... very far from here." He didn't elaborate as he leaned down to fit his eye into the glass of the telescope. "You should visit sometime, I hear humans landed on Mars?"

You shrugged as you approached him with an open bag of chips. "I think so, but if its light years away, who's to say how long till we get there?"

He hummed in response, chewing a handful of chips as he offered you the telescope. "Okay, don't move it. But this is what I wanted to show you, that twinkling above one of your constellations is a planet filled with rabid creatures resembling your blobfishes."

You restrained a laugh as you looked in, your smile warmed his heart. "Seriously? Do they like... crawl on land or something?"

"They cling to your skin and bite through flesh, hurts like hell." Mark smiled as you gave a grossed out look. "Like oversized pink leeches."

He barked out a laugh at your description, colorful. "Close enough! Sure!"

"I wonder if there's a space equivalent of sea bunnies..." You murmured, removing yourself from the telescope to glance up at him, he had a wistful expression on his face.

"... I meant what I said before."

"About earth being insignificant?" You recalled as he nodded. "All this technology, this... resilience to power through dark times, yet you haven't discovered a fraction of the vastness that I saw in these galaxies."

The way he looked up at the stars was new, usually he didn't care about them, but now? After spending time with you? It was special. "Yeah, you have to look past that, for all our arrogance, humans aren't that bad."

"Yeah, you're definitely not." You didn't notice when he glanced away from the night sky to smile in your direction.

. . .

The screaming, crying, people panicking as they scrambled to find some sort of safety penetrated the walls and shot into your eardrums no matter how much you cowered in a corner of your house, no matter how hard your palms pressed against the sides of your head. No one expected this— where were you supposed to go? One of those bunkers that have been infiltrated? Your family's home so you could die with them under one roof? Find your friends and escape to some corner of the earth? It's over. This was it.

A creaking noise, gentle but ominous, made itself known. It stood out among the muffled booming and dying screaming. Someone was here.

You covered your mouth and held back your tears, it was one of them, those things, you knew it was aliens, but from where? You had no clue, maybe it was those Flaxans Mark told you about.

"(Name)?" Mark called out, his voice soft as he glanced around. "Come out, it's safe."

Relief flooded your chest as you got up from beneath one of the furniture, hurriedly approaching him and hugging him. "Mark! You're okay— thank God you're okay!" You heaved, his arms circling you and his palm rubbing your back.

"Of course I'm okay," he smiled, taking a comforting whiff of your hair. "We can cuddle later, you have to come with me."

You blinked, confused. "What? Where? Mark���" you grew quiet as you heard a squelching noise when you separated from him, a scent quickly flooding your nose. You looked down at his clothes that were usually a pure and glossy white, a classic Viltrumite uniform, it was now stained with a disgusting red of various shades, old blood, fresh blood, mixing with soot and ash. You glanced down at your own clothes and hands, the blood staining you like a vile infection from the hug you gave him seconds ago.

"You don't have to worry." You looked up, eyes wide and lips trembling. "It's not mine."

"Wh.. What did you do..?" His expression was indescribable, lips pressed to a thin line as he stood his ground. "What I had to, what a Viltrumite has to."

Your home was already dark, the red lights seeping in from the chaos outside made him look otherwordly; some kind of demon, horseman of the apocalypse.

You took a few steps back, your body repulsed by who you assumed was a friend. "Don't look at me like that," he gritted out, approaching you. "Don't look at me like this hasn't been a long time coming, your planet was dying anyway."

"Are you insane?! This isn't your world to declare when it dies or lives!" You found your voice as the fear was replaced with betrayal and rage, disappointment infused among them.

"This is how your world was built, the rich and powerful survive while the lesser fortunate people are forced to die, everything is catered to the strongest." He lifted a bloody hand. "Right now, I'm the strongest thing on this planet-" he gestured to the outside. "-so what I say, goes."

You didn't know what to say, had you taught him that? Was that all he learned from his time on earth? In your house, among your friends, in your favorite places?

"You're killing people," you strained. "Innocent people, it's not fair— the powerful few shouldn't decide for innocent millions!"

"No, I'm liberating your world, but don't worry." He moved too quickly for you to see, using his superpowers on you always left a bad taste in his mouth, but he had to for now, restraining you like some cornered rabbit "You won't miss this planet, Viltrum will suit you better."

That was your last day on earth, cold, scared, covered in blood, and cradled by a murderer.

[sugusatosluut]

The Nanny?

Synopsis: Mark finally meets the nanny that Debbie won’t stop talking about.

A/N: I want to preface this by saying thank you all for your kind reblogs and the likes! Makes me so happy that these silly little fics give you guys some joy. Requests are open 🩷🩶💙

Mark finally had some free time to spend with his mother Debbie. He waited at their favorite coffe spot for his mom to arrive with Oliver so they could spend some quality time together. His mother had been mentioning something about special sitters or a daycare for children of supers. Whatever she was talking about, Mark had no time to hear about it, but he had time today. He wanted to know about this society of babysitters his mom believed in. Would Oliver be safe? Would his mother be safe? All valid questions he should have asked upon hearing about this for months.

Debbie finally arrived, Mark watched as she parked, got out of the front seat and scrambled possibly for Oliver in the back seat. To Mark’s surprise, Debbie entered the shop without Oliver in hand and a smile on her face. The gift in her hands was fairly small. She handed the box off silently while still smiling at Mark. She gave Mark and peck on his head and sat down in front of him.

“Hi honey, how are you today?” Debbie asked refreshed.

“Good—listen mom, where’s Oliver?” He asked pretty bluntly.

“Mark, I’ve tried to tell you about this new nanny for months, you gotta keep up with your family and stop spending all that time in space and with Cecil.” She sighed.

“Sorry mom.. what nanny? Can you start from the top?” He asked.

Debbie explained to mark that she interviewed twenty seven babysitters. Each was unique but she could always tell when they were sent by Cecil, or if they weren’t as qualified. Just when she’d given up hope, you walked in. The last interview of the day made her fear for her expectations, until you mentioned that you have a younger sibling who’s always been a super. You offered full time care, housekeeping duties, teaching Oliver and even offered overnight care if Debbie or Mark needed a break or couldn’t make it home. You ended up being the perfect pick. For months, you’d been staying at the Grayson’s caring for Oliver, cleaning and sleeping in Nolan’s old office which was made into a guest bedroom for you. You were practically Debbie’s saving grace.

Upon hearing how you basically saved his mother, Mark was a little skeptical about if you were really working for Cecil or if this was all just a lie. You were usually quiet so Mark would never know you were in his home. This was a but much for Mark to take in, especially because before coming to earth, Mark was Oliver’s sole caretaker. Who could do it better than him?

After lunch Debbie and Mark made it home. You were in the living room playing a memory game with Oliver when they walked into the living room. Mark was expecting Oliver to run to him, calling him “bra-bra” but instead, Oliver stayed focused on the memory game and you, the nanny, who sat taking turns with him matching cards.

“Good afternoon Debbie, Mark. Oliver’s been acing this memory game, you’ve got an Einstein.” You chuckled.

“Thank you y/n.” Debbie hugged you before setting her bags down.

“I’m grilling steak and making pasta tonight for dinner, so you can relax. Mark will you be staying for dinner?” You asked.

“Yeah, sure why not.”

Mark was in shock of how beautiful and kind you were. He was expecting some experienced lady well beyond her years but you? You’re the last thing he would have ever guessed. This didn’t change anything though. He needed to investigate further.

You grilled dinner for the Graysons. The table was set, Oliver’s high chair was prepared and the house was spotless. Mark still felt off. Maybe he was gaslighting himself to protect his family and himself? The fact of the matter is you’re too nice and he doesn’t know you that well. Everyone sat at the table as you buckled Oliver into his seat.you gave Oliver some steak, some applesauce and little cubes of cheese. The baby was growing fast, he was always wanting new things.

“Uhh- y/n, Oliver’s a baby, he can’t have steak.” Mark said.

“Oliver’s grown a lot the past few months Mark, he loves solid foods. Especially chewey foods.” You chuckled. Debbie chuckled handing Oliver a small piece of steak that you cut for him.

“Yummy!” Oliver exclaimed.

“It’s so great to finally meet you Mark. Your mom always tells me how busy you are, how were your last few fights?” You asked.

“Great, it’s hard to be in two places at once though. I wanna care for my family but the world needs protection too.” He said.

“I get that completely, you’re doing a great job. Oliver is so lucky to have you as his brother!” You smiled.

“So, you know Cecil Stedman?” He asked.

“I do. But I don’t work for him. I only know him because my younger brother works for him. Cecil’s not exactly my favorite person and I don’t quite like him that much either. That man is known for crossing boundaries and finding loopholes.” You scoffed.

Mark couldn’t disagree with you there.

“Seriously! The man is just so invasive. You ask him to leave you alone and then suddenly your whole family is getting spied on. This is the man that wants respect and for people to work with him?” Debbie laughed.

Mark hadn’t seen his mom laugh in forever, and it was great to see her finally relax and be happy. After dinner, you and Mark cleaned up the kitchen together. Debbie settled Oliver down for bed and went to go to bed herself. It was nice to be around this family compared to your own. You really never got to see them anymore. Your brother was off fighting some threat in another country while your parents tried to hold you to his standards and use you as the free help if they ever needed him taken care of. It’s probably why you’re so good at your job. You were so deep into your thoughts that you were staring out the window. You didn’t even realize you and Mark had finished cleaning the entire kitchen.

“Hey.. you okay?” Mark asked standing next to you.

“Hm? —oh yeah, sorry. Just a lot going on in my brain. I love being here, Oliver is a wonderful kid and your mom is amazing. I just wish I had this with my family.” You smiled at him. It really was no big deal.

“I’m sorry.. and I want to apologize for being kind of an ass. I was wrong about you. I didn’t say anything to my mom about it and I shouldn’t have come off so strong but I like you. It’s hard for me to trust people especially after my dad. You’re good with Oliver and my mom… and you’re good with me too.” Mark smiled.

He looked at you for quite sometime. Mark had an idea but he would have to wait until Debbie and Oliver were asleep. The night was still young. You showered, changed and prepared your bed for a long night’s sleep until Mark knocked in your cracked door.

“Knock knock” he said smiling. Mark wasn’t in his pajamas, he was in his suit, holding a very much awake Oliver.

“Oh, hey!” You whispered.

“Little man was wide awake in his crib. He wanted to see you.” Mark smiled as he held Oliver.

Oliver cooed, you waited for Mark to give him to you, but it seemed as if he was conflicted. If Mark wanted to put his brother back to sleep, you wouldn’t dare rob him of this time.

“Mark if you have to go fight crime or save the world I’d be happy to let Oliver sleep in my room unless you want to put him to sleep first.” You smiled.

Mark gave you a look of worry. He smiled to Oliver and then to himself.

“Stay awake, I’ll be back.” He said.

It took him a little while, but Mark finally put Oliver to sleep after getting some pointers from you about what Oliver needs for him to get tired.

Mark approached your room again, seeing that you were just barely awake, eyes starting to close as you sat at the edge of your bed. Mark made his presence known before coming to sit next to you.

“Wanna go on a joyride?” He asked.

“Hm? Oh I dunno Mark what about Debbie and Oliver?” You asked.

“They’ll be fine, we’ll be back in an hour.” He smiled at you.

Mark picked you up, you both traveled for a taste of the world’s greatest ice cream. You both bonded and got to know eachother much better before stopping back at the house. You and Mark were in his bedroom watching tv and hanging out.

“I hope I was able to make you more comfortable here in our home y/n. Oliver’s lucky to have a nanny like you and I’m lucky to have someone who cares so much about my family and I. That’s all I’ve been asking for and you do it perfectly.” He smiled at you.

You yawned, standing up and making your way towards Mark’s bedroom door.

“I’m here for you guys, I’m gonna go lay down. Thank you for tonight Mark, you’re too sweet and kind. I’ll see you in the morning.” You smiled at him.

Before leaving his room. Mark stood up and walked towards you. It compelled him, the way you were so kind and respectful. Internally he was conflicted, but externally he knew what he needed from you. So Mark stood close to you, holding your face in his hands and kissed you zealously. Your face was red from the contact. His lips were soft and warm, you wanted more but out of respect for Debbie and love for Oliver, this was your one freebie. Do not take advantage of this.

The next morning you and Mark awoke happily and eager to greet eachother in the morning. Debbie noticed the excitement and joined in hugging her son and you.

“Come on mark we’re gonna be late to the mixer!” She said as she grabbed her keys and rushed to the car.

You said goodbye to Debbie and mark as you waved goodbye with Oliver’s hands. They took off and Debbie took this opportunity to tease him as they entered the car together.

“So… the Nanny?” Debbie chuckled.

“Ugh—mom!” Mark shouted.

[sweetverine]

pretty little secret | logan howlett .

warnings : 18+ content (MDNI) , smut, porn with some plot)?, dbf!logan, no use of y/n, afab reader, pet names (logan calls reader princess, sweetheart, doll), fingering, handjob, p in v, no use of protection, creampie, wrote this with 70s!lo in mind but you can imagine him however you want, age gap (reader's age is not mentioned but she is an adult!).

a/n : dfb!logan drives me insane!! i'm really obsessed. i want to write more about him in the future, need him to be his dirty secret english isn't my first language, so feel free to correct me if something's wrong or weird. nothing else, enjoy! ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

The sound of beers being opened and the smell of cigarettes lingering in the kitchen and extending to the living room, indicated one thing; Logan was in your house. You put your book down on page 205 as your father called your name. You left your old room, walking towards the living room where the two men were sitting, sharing laughs and telling old anecdotes that never seem to go out of style.

Your father with a big smile said “Look who wanted to stop by and say hello.”

You smiled as you lifted your head a little higher to look at him, it was never just a hello, they could spend days talking. “Hey, Logan. How are you?” You said, Feeling how his eyes ran all over your body, your thighs, your breasts, even your lips, perv. you thought to yourself, he couldn't help himself anyway.

“Aren't you going to welcome me home?” He said with a sly smile, earning a glance from your eyes. You moved to his side, timidly placing a kiss on his cheek. The greeting already felt strange; you were no longer a little girl. But your father didn’t seem to mind, so the kiss on the cheek might not last much longer.

He took a drag of his fat cigar before speaking to you again. “How's college treating you, sweetheart? You've grown older since the last time I saw you.”

You chuckled softly, taking a bit of awkwardness out of the environment. “It could be worse, but I like it.” your gaze goes back to him again.

“That's Good to hear” He rasped, expelling the smoke in another direction.

“My baby girl is visiting me this week.” your father smiled, interrupting the small talk you were having with Logan, taking his attention back and starting to talk about another topic, catching up. You sighed as you started scanning Logan out of the corner of your eye.

The old man wasn't bad at all, he had big arms, biceps to die for, none of the guys your age had muscles that delicious. the veiny hands with their grip on the beer and the other holding the cigar effortlessly between his index and middle finger.

You felt your face redden at the inappropriate thoughts that didn't hesitate to appear, he seemed so comfortable, he even made it look hot how he took up space by spreading his legs, He had nice thighs, The jeans were flattering him today. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at your father's house again as the men talked nonstop, trying to think about something different. There were so many memories in the place, things that your old man kept in, since you stopped living there you miss some things, but you loved your new life in the city anyway.

You stood up, excusing yourself that you had to do some things on your computer, while walking towards your room you could feel Logan's heavy gaze going down from your back to your butt. You bit your lower lip as you opened the door. This is so inappropriate. How can he? He's your father's best friend! The man you've known almost your entire life. Almost your second father, Ugh, no, better not say that.

The afternoon passed normally, it was obvious that he would stay for dinner. Your father prepared something quick and tasty for the two of you. Your thoughts about Logan continued to attack your mind as you helped him set up the table. The occasional touches of his calloused hands with yours became increasingly repetitive, rarely followed.

You sat in your respective place at the table, right in front of him, to the left of your father who was at the head. You couldn't help but steal a few glances with him, which occasionally ended in him giving you a wink, or Just smiling at each other, which could be friendly, but given the way he was looking at you today, it seemed like he wanted to be eating you instead of the chicken that was on his plate.

Your cheeks stayed red throughout dinner.

It wasn't noticed by your father though, he was just happy that his old friend had finally come to visit. You fixed your hair as you listened to him talk about the same anecdote he always tells Logan, small earning a laugh from the other man as he shook his head.

When dinner was over, the hours had passed, Getting late. “no, no, Logan, It's late and it's dangerous at this hour, you know. The forest is tough” your Dad says, trying to talk it out, Logan gives him a sly smile. “You did too much for me today.” The other man chuckled. “Stay, we'll open a whiskey, eh?" Your father hit his back a few times, without much more, after all Logan was quite bad at saying no.

With bare feet, eager to rest your head on the pillow, you walked towards the kitchen, craving a small chocolate that a friend had given you a few days ago. The floor was cold, and the closer you got to the kitchen you noticed a small light. You walked in slowly, jumping a little when you found him smoking a cigar with the window open. He was quick to notice your presence, smirking as he took a drag.

“Isn't it late for you already?” he uttered in a low voice, smoke escaping a little from his mouth as he spoke.

Your cheeks unconsciously flushed as you opened the refrigerator, scanning for the chocolate. “Maybe.” You bit your lower lip while taking the chocolate, you closed the refrigerator door as you headed to his side. The cheap wrapping of the chocolate made it easy to remove, still you focus on it as if it were a big deal.

Logan watched you open the little treat, the smug smile never leaving his face. “Got a Sweet tooth, darling?” He takes a drag of his cigar.

“Just a little craving.” You said with a smile, wrapping your lips around the chocolate thing to bite it after, enjoying how the taste spread through your mouth. “I guess you can't sleep either.” You sat down effortlessly on the counter, popping the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, looking at him.

“No, not really. You could say I have my cravings too.” He shakes his head, blowing smoke out the window, This time he didn't have his printed shirt on, he was only in a thin white muscle shirt, it stood out and made his arms look bigger, You could notice the path of the veins all over the skin as they stood out, His belt was unbuckled, hanging loosely and making a small ‘clink’ each time he moved. This was so wrong in so many ways.

Logan breaks the little silence. “so, you have a boyfriend, princess? you must update me on that.” he teases, leaning more closer, You could smell the cigar on his clothes and the whiskey on his breath, it made you shudder effortlessly.

“No. You know I don't have one yet. I'm not very interested in it.” You said, looking at him, still not breaking the Intense eye contact. You Both were very close to sin, tasted on the tip of their tongues, wanting more of it each time. See how far you two can go.

“When you were little you were very excited about it.” Logan shakes his head, letting his gaze move to your lips, unconsciously licking his own before returning to your eyes.

“I've grown up since, we both could say that.” Your gaze focused on his entire face, up close you could see his now dark hazel eyes, the wrinkles on his face were somehow hot on him, oh and even how masculine his nose was.

His large hand moved to your face, wiping away a trace of melted chocolate that remained there, although he would love to remove it with his tongue, it wasn't the time yet. His thumb lingered there for a while Slowly sliding towards your lips, gently touching the tender flesh. Your heart threatened to escape and come out of your throat while your face turned red, your breaths almost mixing, the smell of whiskey intoxicated you little by little while you opened your mouth shyly, with some difficulty maintaining eye contact.

Logan sighed as he slowly let his thumb enter your mouth, his eyes watching intently as your lips wrapped around his finger. Your teeth bit down very gently on the finger joint, keeping it there.

“Atta girl..” he whispered, admiring you a little more, so beautiful.

As he removes his finger his mouth finally invades yours, beginning a slow kiss, the taste of the whiskey and cigar had a strong contrast with the sweetness of the chocolate, he gets between your thighs, his tongue playing with yours as his strong hands grab you from the backside, pulling you closer to their body. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you positioned your head to deepen the kiss. Your hands behind his head, gripping their hair softly.

The lack of air cuts the kiss short, leaving them both breathless. The atmosphere was hot and, in a way, heavy. Logan shook his head slowly, So bad. He was like his brother, how could he have betrayed a man as faithful as your father? He hated him for having such a beautiful and smart daughter, with the sweetest, softest lips he'd ever tasted.

How could he stay away?

Logan buried his head in your neck, breathing in the scent of the soap you used and your natural scent, he growled softly as he started giving you open-mouth kisses on your neck melting into the counter, you sighed, trying not to make too much noise. “Logan.. this is wrong..” You said in a low voice, realizing the size of the situation, how much the years and years relationship that Logan and your father means. You pulled at his hair, trying to get him out of there.

One of his hands slid down to the crotch of your pajama shorts, His fingers finding your clothed clit, rubbing on the aching nub softly. You gasped, arching your back as you pressed more of your body against his hand. “Tell me to stop, princess.” he said, giving you a sly smile, knowing full well that really, you weren't going to tell him to stop. “I can't hear you, doll.” He teased You more, your lips released a soft, low moan in response, frowning at him as his hand continued to play with you through your clothes.

“We don't want your old man to hear us, do we?” he whispered in your ear in his deep voice, his hand sliding down your abdomen to slide inside your panties. You bit your bottom lip as you felt Logan run the tips of his calloused fingers through your wet folds. Slowly, he pushes his two thick fingers inside, You sighed raggedly, almost moaning as your warm walls accepted the intrusion without complaint, fluttering around them.

“Lo…” You moaned softly, as he began to move his fingers, the wet and sticky noises your pussy made, Logan's eyes remained glued to your face, admiring how you writhed before just his hand. He curled his fingers in that perfect spot, making you shiver. His mouth attacked yours, muffling your sounds with his lips. “Dirty girl.. you're so wet, I barely gave you two kisses.” He teased, with a wide smirk. his face returns to your neck, kissing it a little more, tasting your skin.

You started touching the sky with your hands while his fingers increased the speed, touching that gummy spot again and again without stopping, your body was tensing, preparing for your orgasm. Logan gave a few more movements before removing his fingers, making you let out a moan of protest, your hips pressing against his body, asking for more, begging to be brought back to the state of near orgasm. You looked at him with a frown.

“You have to wait. Can you do that for me?” he said, giving you a small nod before bringing two fingers to his mouth, groaning at the taste, Divine. He gives you a peck on your lips, Lifting up your shirt, without a bra, you were truly a gift sent from the devil, to tempt him and... do horrible things to his old friend, like fucking his daughter in the kitchen. He smiled as he got inside your shirt, starting to suck on one of your nipples, holding and gently squeezing your other tit.

You let him have fun there. The old man looked like he needed it. “Are you enjoying that?” You asked, feeling him lightly bite your nipple, making you gasp.

“Damn right I am.” He responds, leaving your boob with a wet pop, going with the other, Lapping the hardened nub before wrapping his lips around it, sucking with his eyes closed. He decided to leave, slipping out from inside your shirt. He realized how hard he was, how tight his pants and boxers were, how his cock throbbed.

“I want to feel it." You said, starting to unbutton his pants, Logan didn't stop you, watching as you pulled down his boxers, leaving his hard, thick cock exposed to the kitchen air. It was really nice to look at, it was long enough and perfectly thick, the tip was somewhat wet with precum, and it had veins decorating the entire shaft. Logan had thick pubic hair but it was trimmed, you thought about going to your room but the stairs were really noisy, pure luck you didn't make that much noise going down.

Logan grabbed your wrist, inviting you to touch him. You smirked, wrapping a hand around his cock. You heard him growl low. “You havin’ fun down there, princess?” You started slow, but his big hand covered yours, tightening the grip, showing you how he liked it.

“there we go..” He rasped, watching you jerk him off. After a few movements, you removed your hand, watching his cock throb, wanting more. A taste of his own medicine. Your smirk became wider after seeing him frown.

Logan's hands went to the elastic of your shorts, pulling them down. Revealing the pair of panties you'd decided on today, also revealing the wet stain between them.Logan reached down and kissed your pussy through the fabric, making you shiver before returning to his original height, placing a kiss on your lips. His fingers moved your panties to the side.

He drew you closer to the edge of the counter, starting to run the tip of his cock through your wet folds. teasing you, even rubbing it on your clit with a wide smirk. “Stop teasing, Logan.” you said, Frustrated, you didn't really care too much about your father's and Logan's codes anymore, the latter was really a terrible friend, but the stretch of feeling that was coming in took you out of your thoughts again. Letting out a grunt in unison as he entered fully.

“Big stretch…” He whispered in your ear, kissing your jaw as he stayed still.

You took a deep breath as you relaxed your body, it felt bigger inside actually. He was so deep too, you felt every single vein pressed against your warm walls. your arms were still wrapped around his broad shoulders. “So sweet baby, so damn sweet.” He groaned in your ear, you were squeezing him pretty hard, not letting him go.

“Y-you can move..” You whispered in his ear too, feeling his cock, He began to move in and out at a slow pace. You closed your eyes as your mouth fell open, letting out sighs.

One of his rough calloused hands leaves your hips, going to your face, grabbing it softly, your eyes open. “eyes on me, darling.” He says, making eye contact. His heavy balls hitting your skin, inevitably making a sound. His hand stayed there, covering your mouth. Your sweet moans are muffled by his palm. You struggle Maintaining eye contact, his hips angled slightly, the tip of his cock kissing that spot. Your eyes rolled back, bringing your hips closer to his.

Logan smiled to himself, finding your weakness. “Aww is it there, sweetheart? real cute.” He whispered in your ear, feeling how your walls flutter around him as he talks you through it. His thrusts became faster, hitting that spot again and again, his hand leaving your mouth, your hand replacing his, covering your mouth now. Allowing his hand to go to your clit, rubbing it as the sounds of clapping filled the room.

Your body tensed, biting your palm as you rolled your eyes, “Give me some sugar, doll. Come on... cum on my cock.” He says, feeling your body convulse beneath him, your eyes got teary, wanted to moan, scream his name so badly. He didn't stop immediately, helping you through your orgasm, giving a few more thrusts and caressing your clit.

“cute little thing..”

Now relaxed, you let him use you, his thrusts becoming faster and more erratic as he chases his orgasm.

“you cum inside..” you whispered, looking at him. your red cheeks and your pretty eyes, how you're hugging his whole cock, so heavenly.

“I shouldn’t, sweetheart” He says it in a husky voice, his teeth clenched as if he's fighting himself. His instinct is to hold back, but then his lips meet yours, soft and hungry, your legs press him closer to you, your nails digging into his back.

“You can... you have my permission. I want it.”

It's all it takes. His self-control crumbles the instant you say it in that sweet, desperate voice.

“Fuck— You're gonna be the death of me.” His thrust slows down as you feel the thick ropes of semen pouring inside you. You sighed as Logan finally went still, they stayed connected for a while. In pure silence.

You could say that the desire to sleep came to you after all.

Logan wordlessly withdrew his semi-limp cock from you. Leaving you empty, you let out a soft moan, missing the closeness and warmth of his body. Putting it back inside his boxers, he reached for your panties. Taking them off and putting them in his pocket with a proud smile, he helped you get off the counter and pull up your shorts.

It wasn't certain if it meant it would happen again, it was wrong, and you felt a little guilty. But a small part of you wanted to do it again. You looked up, leaving a kiss on his cheek, before starting walking towards the stairs.

“good night, lo.” You whispered, You looked at him as he winked at you.

“night, doll.” He said, walking towards the sofá. watching your legs as you climb the stairs, noticing how his semen runs down your leg.

He patted his pocket, making sure your panties were still there, he smirked again as he lay down.

[naranjapetrificada]

Specifically about the racefakery:

I'm primarily seeing the conversation around All This focus on plagiarism (which makes sense) but I wanted to say some things as one of the handful of Black people I'm aware of that hang out around here:

1. Discord makes my brain itch and I've been afraid to go to OFMD bluesky after how bad OFMD twitter was, so I'm often one of so few Black people on here that you can count us one hand. I wasn't especially close with Atticus but I did like knowing that someone else was gonna be loud about racist Ed takes from a "position of authority" as it were. That knowledge made shit feel a lot less lonely over here and this motherfucker took that from me. That's what I feel betrayed about. That's what pisses me off about the racefaking in particular. Things are now unequivocally going to be harder for me around here than they were before and I hate that he was able to put me in this position.

2. I'm not aware of if he plagiarized any of my fics because they're mostly 100% canon compliant or in one case, too weird to effectively copy, but I'll never know because 100+ middling fics is too many to check through. I'm okay not knowing because the stilted way he wrote about Ed's hair and Ed's race are not things I wish to subject myself to anymore. But for the record, his fics are one of the places where the racefakery shows the most imo because writing makes you tell on yourself in unanticipated ways.

3. Maybe this next point will get me blocked by even more white people in this fandom but here we go anyway. I've struggled to come up with a more diplomatic way of saying "white people are too polite/conflict averse" but like, white people are too polite/conflict averse. This has literally come up in this exact fandom before, around a less fraught issue but still. It had ugly fallout then and it's had ugly fallout now, and while I understand not wanting to come at somebody you perceive as a person of color where everyone could see it, I do wish we had an environment where people who did have suspicions about him could have come forward. The amount of harm he was able to do is directly proportional to the amount of time and space he had to do it, and even before you start talking about the racefaking he was up to shady shit that I certainly had no idea was going on. Which leads to my next point.

4. I can recall a couple times where my race-related spidey senses tingled, but any unease I had was easily lost in the constant din of race-related shit that comes with my existence both in and out of fan spaces. To borrow from scarrletmoon (I miss having you here!) it's like background radiation. Also, there was always the "maybe it's just bad writing" excuse, or the "it's not my place to say but the way he writes about Judaism isn't quite like the way Jews I know talk about it" excuse. There was my (continued) inability to imagine why some white person would bother, because no amount of clout is worth what it's like to be Black on the internet. There was also probably some kind of aversion I had to the idea of losing "one of us" on here, which honestly might be something he was preying on but it's not productive for me to try to get inside the mind of someone who would do what he's done.

And if I was falling into those particular traps (around the racefaking in particular) myself, there's no way the rest of y'all could have known anything was up. Certainly not in isolation. Now I can't help but wonder if being seen interacting with me gave him some kind of legitimacy in any of your eyes, which is lowkey horrifying if true.

Anyway, those are the things I have to say now, after processing for a bit. It's still not worth my sanity to spend more than 30 seconds at a time looking at Discord, where I know a lot of this sort of thing gets discussed, but I can't help but wish I'd known about this sooner.

[fairyhaos]

ও wen junhui as your college boyfriend

gn!reader, wc ~500 tags: requested by anon, college au, fluff, crack, est. rs., this is so cute omg i want a college bf!junhui now

he's honestly so adorable no matter what

so u can bet he's the cutest college bf ever too!!

memorised ur wholeee schedule on day one and sends YOU reminders about ur own classes every day

makes a point to eat lunch with u whenever possible

also whenever Not possible too

like he'll come SPRINTING across campus after his class just to have lunch with u if that's what it takes

sue him, he likes spending time with u :(((

he's also thee best comforter during exam season omg!!!

more than willing to stay up all night studying with you if it makes you feel better

he knows how u spiral into panic if you're left on ur own, so the closer it gets to exams, he starts showering u with even MOREE affection than before

and you know he'll be showering u with kisses once exams r FINALLY out of the way as a congratulations 😙

always leaves snacks in your bag and little post-its with cat faces drawn on them to reminder you to drink water bc he KNOWS that you're so bad at taking care of urself when you're fully locked in

"hey junnie, you know you can just text me, right?" / "are you saying you don't like my cat drawings :((" / "whAT NO I WOULD NEVER—"

also just bc he's a broke college student does nawwt mean you'll ever catch him slacking as ur bf !!

gives you little gifts whenever possible, is always showing up at ur dorm with flowers, buys you books + clothes + stationary + groceries + whatever he can to show he cares

one thing he won't do, though, is catch bugs for you.

nuh uh. that is a no-go.

who cares that he's literally 600000x bigger than the spider? the spider is still WAYY scarier than he'll EVER be so he is NOT touching that no thank you.

the two of you stay glued to one corner of the library till ur friend arrives and scares the spider off

but junhui makes up for his bug-related uselessness by being useful in literally every other area of ur life

hungry? he'll cook for you. sick? he'll take care of you. stuck on an essay? he'll help you, even if he's not studying anything remotely related to ur major

he could be in the throes of finishing his dissertation, bags under his eyes and the world on his shoulders but he'll still drop everything to help you

what can he say? he's in love with u.

and what makes it even better is he knows, he knows that you'd do the exact same thing for him too

you're so full of love, so kind and wonderful that he can't help but do all of this in return, just to try and give an ounce of that same love back

it's the least you deserve, he thinks.

(and don't tell anyone, but right after graduation, he's thinking of getting you a promise ring and taking u to visit china with him b4 u go to ur respective internships.)

(and then, further down the line... he's really hoping to marry you one day. you know. because he really does love you a lot. hopefully you love him just as much too.)

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit @dokyeomkyeom @hopeless-foolery @aaa-sia

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: Sometimes, when spending time with him, you feel like he owes you something. You decide to tell him about it one day.

Warnings: References to Sylus's Myth.

Author's note: Was gonna post this earlier but I got sick and my period hit me real bad LOL. Comments and reblogs are appreciated, enjoy! <3

You loved spending time with Sylus. It's the most fun you'll have, no matter how ridiculous your ideas may be. He always finds a way to make it work. With him, the word “limits” has erased itself from your dictionary. Instead, you ask yourself just how far Sylus is willing to go for your sake. But the answer is simple, really. His resources and time seem to be unending when you are the focal point of the picture. Ask for the moon, and he will bring back the stars along with it.

Even if the two of you aren't going out, choosing to stay in and bask in each other's company. These domestically intimate moments are just as— if not more— precious. Just like now. You've dragged Sylus into his bathroom, an assortment of skincare products you wanted to try already sitting on the sink countertop. Grabbing a tub of facial mask, you twist open the lid, scooping some of it with two fingers.

“Bend down. And close your eyes.” Your words come out more demanding than you wanted it to.

“My... So bossy, sweetie. No magic words to sweeten the deal?” But Sylus doesn't even try to act like he's reluctant to do so.

Spreading the clay mask on his face, you take the time to admire his features. Tracing your fingers along his strong eyebrows, down the bump of his nose, over his prominent cupid's bow lips. For someone not blessed by the gods, he sure looks like one. Sylus is the kind of beauty that makes artists weep. One that you cannot capture within a still painting, a muse no one has the skill to recreate. So devastatingly beautiful, it aches.

“Are you applying a mask, or sculpting my face, kitten?” The deep timber of Sylus's voice breaks you out of your trance.

Looking away, you place a finger on his lips.

“Shush. It's a clay mask, you'll crack it.”

He hates when you do that. Looking away from him, avoiding his eyes— pulling away from him. Sylus doesn't understand where he went wrong. You were perfectly fine up until recently. The growing distance of your bond claws at him. Did he do something? He wants to know, needs you to tell him how he can mend whatever damage he made. He could not live shunned in your silence or knowing he hurt you in some way.

How tempting it is to give in. To want to surrender and melt in your lover's embrace. Yet still, you look away. It's something you have felt since the two of you first met, back when Sylus still gazed at you with disdain. You never understood it. Why you were consumed by the need to devour him. Something that, for some inexplicable reason, you knew bone-deep that this desire is something only he can fulfill.

Two fingers; pointer and thumb, take your chin. Sylus tilts your face toward him. An emotion you could not decipher simmering in his brilliant, scarlet eyes. His brows furrow, lips opening and closing again. He wants to ask you— the questions on the tip of his tongue ready to spill out. But he doesn't know if that will scare you away more. So he hesitates, wondering if understanding your recent behaviour is out of his reach.

“...Sy? Can I tell you something?” You ask, a little unsure. You aren't stupid, the tension is clear. You know he wants answers. And you won't let him live in doubt of your relationship.

Sylus's eyes widen a fraction. Only for a split second before masking with his usual suaveness. You want to talk, that's good.

“Of course, sweetie. What is it?”

Reaching out, you cradle the right side of his face, thumb just below his right eye. You don't miss the way he shudders, gaze following your touch. His lips tremble when you begin to stroke your thumb on his cheek. Such a sensitive man, always so attuned to your touch. Like your warmth is a hearth, like your hands are a shelter from the cold. One of his hands cup your own, making you linger on his face.

“Lately... When I look at your right eye, it feels like I want it. It's scary. I don't want to hurt you. But something in me gnaws desperately to take from you like it belongs to me.” There. The full, honest truth.

Sylus is stunned. He expected anything else. A problem with him, something to change— about himself or otherwise. Perhaps even you wanting to leave him. But no. Sweet, lovely you. What you were so worried about is a centuries-old desire of yours. A desire for him that you couldn't understand. Albeit, you don't know that, yet it still brings him relief. It seems you are the same soul he fell in love with ages ago, even if you will never remember it.

He leans closer, palms now cradling your face. “Have I not taught you to be greedy with me? If you simply wanted more of me, just say that.”

Although Sylus yearns to tell you what this truly means, he understands that you wouldn't believe him. And that's okay. He will wait however long he needs to until you come to terms with yourself or remember your past. Rest assured that you will never be alone in your journey. Sylus will help you clear the path, guide you along the way even if it may be deceitful of him. He just wants his beloved to come back home.

“Don't you understand that all I am is yours? There is nothing you could do to hurt me if I allowed it in the first place. Take whatever you want from me— take me. I am nothing if not yours to love, entirely, my beloved.”

[king-nyx]

"Do you want to talk about it?" Audrey offered, hugging her close.

"Well, I was thinking about my story and I thought how would Queen Clarion end up like she did in the movie. And, in the movie, it's because the king of the Winter Woods lost a wing. So, I was thinking about that and then it got sad. And, I didn't mean to make it sad! They can't end up together!"

Audrey smiled, kissing the top of her head, "Well, I think good endings can cone from sad parts."

"But, it's sad!"

"Yes, but just because one part of your story is sad doesn't mean they can't end up together. Or that it can't work out between them. Things always work out by themselves, you just have to figure out how it can work them."

"But, it can't! It's too hot for him and too cold for her!"

"What about if they meet during the fall or early spring? Or if they find a spell or machine or something that would can make it so they're able to be together."

"But, they can't always be together! They'll have to spend some time apart!"

"Oh, boy, let me tell you a story about Persephone and Hades."

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[lostrologyy]

all brawn, no brain. himbo!james potter x reader

in which james is rewarded for being such a good boy quidditch player

cw: smut. unprotected sex. piv. porn with a bit of plot (if you squint). lingerie?. nipple play. dry humping. riding. kinda needy james. tiny little bit of degradation. praise. cursing.

a/n: any feedback is very much appreciated<3 remember my first language isn't english. not proofread !

james' lips on your neck tickle you as he kisses, bites and marks your tender skin. it's been like this for 10 minutes and he makes you whine a couple times before you remember the main reason you're in his dorm instead of the party downstairs. you gasp.

"jamie, wait! i have a surprise for you!" you grab him by the neck and he groans.

"hmph, want you to stay here, i've been wanting to fuck you since this morning." he frowns.

you giggle. "james, you fucked me this morning!"

"exactly! i just want to spend every minute of every day inside you. is that too much to ask for?" he tries to continue his assault on your neck but you get off him before he succeeds.

"yeah, but you won today's match, remember? and my good boy deserves a reward." you praise him, completely aware that he's unable to resist to that.

inmediately after those words leave your mouth, he feels his cheeks warming and his eyes getting glossy, it's almost ridiculous how flustered you can make him with just a few simple words.

"i won't take long, okay?" you caress his cheek and he presses his face against it, like a small animal looking for a cuddle.

"m'okay." he whispers, and you grab the small bag from your things before entering the bathroom.

you take the few things out as fast as you can: a light pink silky nightgown with white lace as the straps and in the borders, and a pretty pair of panties of the same colour to match.

you put on every piece carefully, spraying yourself with a new perfume you bought along with the other garments, all thinking about this precise night.

you fix your hair a bit and check yourself in the mirror before getting out of the bathroom, your tummy fluttering with anticipation for james' reaction.

he's now laying down on his bed with his arms on top of his eyes, and he prompts on his elbows when he hears your steps.

he freezes as soon as he sees you, his eyes being the only part of him that keep moving to check you out from head to toe.

"woah angel, you're... woah." he gulps. his eyes big like saucers fixate on your thighs, where the tiny piece of clothing ends with a subtle slit on the side.

his face makes you giggle again.

"i'll take that as a compliment." you stand still for a moment before straddling him, and he focuses on your lower half when the silky material bunches around your hips, pressing your covered pussy against the material of his pants.

"shit, angel, you look stunning." his hands grab you by the hips as you push his chest to the bed.

"you were so good for me out there, baby," you say, your nails going up and down his chest. he shivers. "i've never been so proud of you."

he looks at you through his lashes and moans as you start to rock your hips on his lap, you feel yourself getting wet at the sight of james' pretty eyes watching you with such intensity.

you move your body in a slow, circular motion until you can feel your boyfriend's hard cock through his clothes and your now damped underwear.

he whines again when you start playing with the zipper of his jeans.

"what baby? tell me what you need." your sweet voice is like honey to his ears.

"please angel, please." he hooks the straps of your nightie with his fingers and pulls them down, leaving your bare tits under his sight.

"oh baby, there's not a single though in there, huh?" you mock him. "my pretty, dumb baby, so good at quidditch yet so stupid when you're with me."

he impulses himself up till his face is buried in your chest. he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers while he sucks and toys with the other using his warm tongue.

you let him be for a few minutes and continue pressing your body against his until he's gasping and biting the hard peaks on your breasts.

"okay baby, that's enough." you take him by the head and push him again to the bed, and you feel his eyes on you as you unbutton his pants.

he lets out a groan when you free his hard cock from his boxers and take it in your hands, the substitution of the restrain of his clothes for the feeling of your warm skin making him more needy, if that's even possible.

you stroke him a few times until you see pearly drops of precum on his tip, using your legs to positionate your dripping core just above him.

you hook your panties to the side and lower down slowly, slapping his cock against your clit a few times before putting him at your entrance.

with every inch that you take, james' breath acelerates and his grip on your hips tightens. your heart slams heavily inside your chest until you've taken him down to the base, you wait a few seconds to try and acommodate to his size before starting to bounce up and down at an almost desperate pace.

"oh god. c'mon angel, faster, pleasepleaseplease!" his faces scrunches in pleasure as he begs, he's always so utterly cute like this, so desperate and letting you use him to get off.

your nails claws at his chest, leaving red traces all the way from his pecs to his v-line.

a whine escapes your throat when his tip kisses that spongy spot inside you that makes you clench around him, and he lets out an almost feral sound.

his hips keep meeting your pace pounding in and out of you while his hands explore and squeeze every part of you that he can get. the sound of slapping from your bodies fills the room until that so familiar, primal sensation starts to form deep in your core.

"oh fuck, jamie, i'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me cum baby." your moans get embarrasingly loud as that knot inside you tightens more and more.

"gonna cum too, angel, please! i want it so bad!" you feel his dick throb and a tear runs down james' face.

"yeah baby, cum with me, your so so so good!" you move one, two, three more times until the pressure snaps and you're cumming all over your boyfriend's cock.

the feeling of your arousal and cum dripping and coating his member it's enough for james to spill his warm seed inside you in mere seconds, and you moan at the overwhelming sensation of being filled up.

you both stay connected like that to try and control your panting breaths. out of a sudden, james takes one of your hands and gives it a few pecks while smiling.

"now i can say i really feel like a champion, angel”

lostrologyy © 2025.

[emeraldserenade]

hii!! i have a request for joaquin :) reader is joaquin’s wife that he told bucky & sam abt but they thought he was lying and she eventually meets them in person & they’re shocked 🩵🩵

Real ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Sam and Bucky never thought you were real, until you were in their eyesight.

tw: fem!reader, FBI!reader, limited use of y/n, barely edited

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi Reese, I hope you like this! If you've seen Criminal Minds, then you know what a profiler is and that's the job I gave her. I also didn't know how to end this so sorry for the odd ending.

➽──────────────❥

It wasn't uncommon for Joaquín to talk about you, your name and the words "my girl", "my wife," or "amor de mi vida" tumbling from his lips like you were the goddess he worshipped. It wouldn't surprise anyone who saw the two of you together if he did worship you, he looked at you like you made the world go round. And you did the same, the love you two had for each other made your own world go round.

Bucky and Sam though? They have never seen you, they've heard about you. Joaquín spending any time he can talking about you, about your smile, the way you hold yourself, anything he could think of was mentioned. That's why the two of them were convinced you were fake, they had never met you, let alone see a picture, yet he was always talking like he was trying to convince them you were real.

"Are you sure the kid isn't lying?" Bucky questioned Sam one day, they were all waiting on you. You said your plane was running behind because your 'case' had run a little longer than expected.

"Why would he set this whole thing up if he is?" Sam tried to defend Joaquín at any chance he could. While he didn't particularly believe you were real, he wanted to give Joaquín the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, she's here!" Joaquín announced, bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for you to appear. It only took a moment, then you were in his eyesight. He made a beeline to you, the mostly empty airport helped him not having to weave through people.

To say Sam and Bucky were shocked was an understatement. They assumed, had you been real, that you were going to be pretty. But this was something else, you looked ethereal and they understood by Joaquín basically worshipped you. It didn't help that they saw the way you looked at Joaquín, the amount of love that could never be faked.

"Sam, Bucky, this is y/n, my wife," Joaquín introduced you to the others and you shook their hands.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you two," your eyes twinkled with your smile, your genuine happiness at meeting them making them both feel at ease around you.

"Likewise," Sam was the first to recover, his shock still evident on his face.

"You two thought I was fake," you announced and watched them both scramble for an excuse. "It's ok, my job doesn't really allow me to be around as often as I'd like," you admitted, pressing into Joaquín's side.

"And what do you do for work? I'm pretty sure I could tell you your own favorite color before your job," Bucky joked, you laughed knowing that Joaquín would tell someone your favorite color before your job.

"I'm a profiler at the FBI's behavioral analysis unit," you explained. "I use the behavior pattern, method of murder, and a whole other things to find serial killers. And the occasional kidnap or bioweapon attack," you gave them the longer answer to the question since most people tend to not know what the BAU is. The four of you started to walk out of the airport and to the car, Joaquín holding your bag for you.

It wasn't anything new, the looks you got when you walked with Joaquín but these one's made you smile. You were talking with the boys, getting to know them as you talked. It was fun, you noticed that Joaquín was quiet most of the time but you also knew that with the drinks he would soon be talking, a lot.

"I love you," Joaquín mumbled as he leaned into you, you glanced at him with a smile. "Sam, Bucky, have I ever told you how much I love y/n?" Joaquín looked over at the two. You laughed at the way he tried to make it subtle but with the way he was leaning on you, and his not so quiet whispering, you could hear all his words.

"All the time," Sam answered.

"What about how when she smiles it's like time stops and the world is just revolving around her?" Joaquín had moved to wrap his arm around you, but was still stage whispering.

"That one's new," Bucky said, a smile gracing his face.

"Or, or, when I was immediately drawn to her laugh at the college party. She was playing beer pong and she laughed when her friend missed," Joaquín retold the story of the first time he saw you; however, you've never heard it.

"I didn't know that," you told Joaquín who looked at you weirdly.

"You didn't?" Sam was the one to ask.

"No, if I have the right party, then we didn't meet until a few days later in a shared class. We just happened to sit next to each other the one day that the professor made us pick our partner based on who was next to us," you explained, looking down at Joaquín who was staring at you with heart eyes.

"Well, we didn't know that one either," Sam told you and you smiled and let out a little laugh. You four talked a little bit more before Joaquín started to just ramble about how much he loved you.

"I guess we should get going," you laughed after one particularly loud declaration of love from Joaquín followed by a kiss to your cheek.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[muwapsturniolo]

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH STURNIOLO TUMBLR, AND HOW DO WE FIX IT?

im actually sick and tired of all the bs on this app and I'm being fr.

there has been sm drama, and trust, I've had my fair share of it and this seems hypocritical but it gets to a point where you get tired of the shit.

im tired of getting into drama, ive told my close friends on here that, I've said it to myself so many times and I've been actively avoiding getting into shit that could get me into drama.

it's fucking draining.

im sure you guys are tired of seeing the drama, and i can understand why. you come on this app to get away from drama, you come on this app to kick your feet and giggle with your friends.

it seems like tumblr has become a cesspool of copying, hate, expose acct, and wild ass anons.

i wanna give my thoughts on all of those.

copying:

i really don't get it. like actually. you have writers on here who work hard, spending days trying to work out a fic/new au, only for someone to copy the idea with no credit, or they flat out copy and paste. its so frustrating and im being fr when i ask, what do you get out of copying like that? do you get off on upsetting people or getting them riled up? do you enjoy when you get attention even though it's negative? it doesn't make sense and i can't wrap my head around it. writing may come easier to some people and for others it doesn't, that does not give you an excuse to act like that. if you like an idea sm, ask the OG writer if its ok for you to write your own version. if you don't want to ask for reasons idk, at least tag our user or just put the link to the fic to give credit. its really not that hard! most of the drama on this app does come from people copying and not giving credit, it gets the writers in a tizzy, the anons get wild, and suddenly the OG writer is the bad guy.

expose accts:

we have all seen these expose accts and had run-ins with them. i truly don't know why they exist because usually they are made to hate on one person. you don't have to like that person, you arent obligated to like anyone. but making a hate acct for her or simply sending in hate to these accts about her and others is actually insane. these accts are so fucking draining and its like a constant back and forth because most of the shit they post about, its shit that has been addressed A LONG TIME AGO or hold no weight for the convo they are attempting to have. with that being said, its also people you will get into with on here, that will make posts about it and suddenly they allow all the hate in the world to be sent to them and they answer it. am i projecting? yeah i am, because this shit makes no sense. you want tumblr to be fun but you're making posts actively hating on me and others? you want tumblr to be fun but you're shading people and threatening to expose these people as if this is middle school? and let me just throw this in here, i really do hate when i have a bad interaction with someone and they post about it and suddenly ALLLLL of tumblr has been scorned by me when in reality idk half of you bitches nor know you by username nor have i had a convo with you. so how have i scorned you? the answer is most of yall havent been scored by me or others, you may just not like us and it's fine. but learn to hate in silence, otherwise drama is all we are going to see.

hate/wild ass anons:

CHILLEEEEEEEE, let me tell yall something. i truly do believe the wild ass anons are the main people starting shit and let me tell you why. anons have the ability to hide behind a damn screen, the drama hungry ones literally get off on going into peoples inbox and sending hate about that person, or other people. they know who will react and who wont. ive had anons come in my inbox saying someone copied me, and then i go check and there is literally nothing there. I've had people come in my inbox saying wild shit to me because they feel like they can cuz they arent saying it with their chest off anon. its crazy because truly, what makes them think they could act that way? it's not ok and it's draining seeing so many people hide behind a screen and hate just because they think its funny. ALSO, THE TYPE OF HATE PEOPLE GET IS CRAZY!!! TWWWWW!!! why are we getting death threats and being told we should slit our wrists and get raped? why are you saying you hope we get tortured and our whole family dies? like fuck, I'm not above telling someone to die, that's something i gotta fix with myself, but I'm never going to outright say disgusting shit like that and wish sexual assault/abuse on you. do fucking better.

BIG BLOG AND MEAN GIRL ENERGY

something that has always annoyed me was when people talk about big blogs is , yall have certain ppl in mind but you don't say who you are talking about when talking shit, but yall make it so obvious and that leads to people going in your inbox talking shit, and then the big blogs get upset and either act out or block, AND THEN YALL GET UPSET FOR GETTING BLOCKED!!! LIKE THIS SHIT IS INSANE!!! ITS ONE BIG LOOP OF STRAIGHT SHIT FROM THE BUTT AND ITS ANNOYING. a block is not that serious and i hate when a big blog blocks somebody, its like fucking presidents day and suddenly its a big deal and everyone HAS TO KNOW, when in reality, no one does! the same way yall block people on insta, twitter, snap, fucking Pinterest, WE CAN DO THAT ON TUMBLR AND IT SHOULDNT BE A FUCKING ISSUE!!! ALSO, im so tired of the clique talk and big blogs being mean shit. i can't speak for other people, but ik I'm not cliqued up and I'm not a mean person. i have made so many friends as of recent on here that i love and hype up constantly, I've always followed ppl back even to the point where i hit the fucking following limit which is 5K PEOPLE!!! i reblog fics all the time, i ask for more parts, i even help people with writing! ik others who do the same so it baffles me when they say we mean girls and cliqued up. we mean cuz we calling ppl out for copying and their bs? we clicked up cuz we're big blogs and talk to each other? im not saying this to be a bitch but it does seem like yall wanna be big blogs as well and you're upset we don't interact with your fics as much as others. and I'm sorry for that and I'm not trying to make excuses but we cant see everything! now to yall points, yeah alot of people stick to the writers they know and hype up the same ones. i will be the first to admit that's not ok and they should branch out and read smaller writers works, ill even be the first say more big blogs should do the same!!! now the big question is,

HOW DO WE FIX IT???

truth be told, there is no perfect solution to anything but this is what i came up with. for copying i want to say, just be original. even if you feel like your writing isn't good which makes you want to copy, KEEP WRITING ORIGINAL SHIT!!! there will be someone out there who fucks with it and will beg for more. if you truly do wanna do your version of someone else's fic, just ask. ik for a fact i will say yes and reblog and hype you up! for expose accts, block them and move on. lets stop entertaining them. they don't deserve our time and they feed off the attention. less attention they get, less of them will pop up. of course ppl will still interact and send them stuff about people, but we gotta learn to just ignore. for hate and anons, same with exposing accts. block and move on. i would tell everyone to turn off anons forever but that wouldn't be fair to the anons that actually act right and they don't deserve to have that taken from them. for big blogs what i can say in regards to big blogs is, lets do better for the other writers on this app. if you don't already, start interacting with smaller writers and hyping them up!!! ik when i was just starting out that their words of encouragement would have helped me a lot! as for the people who dont like the bigger blogs or wish we would do more, you don't have to like us, but don't send hate about us to others. truth be told it makes us not want to interact with anyone but our close friends and that's when drama starts and the community starts dividing.

i want better for this community, and again, i have had my fair share of drama. i can own up to that, but i can understand and see when change needs to happen and I'm ready for that change and I'm ready to get back to being a fun community.

you dont have to like me at all but i do hope what i said in this long ass post can at least be something we mutually agree on.

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 1

I previously posted a blurb/preview of a soulmate AU with Sylus and a Non MC Reader. Here is the full length fic. Hope you all enjoy because there's more fics to come with this man from me (he has me in a goddamn chokehold; I already have so many drafts 😭).

Length: 2.2k words

Not completely proofread.

🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹

You sit on Sylus' bed, restless despite the exhaustion that clings to your body. It’s like a noose with every second that goes by. Yet, you know rest will never come to you. Not for some time at least. So, you pass the time with tapping.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Broken nails tap uselessly and frequently against the expensive sheets. No amount of this makes the ire in your blood burn any less.

"Sylus," you call out to the man in question, who merely hums your name in response. "Have I ever told you that you're the biggest fool I've met?"

Sylus stands in his bathroom, door wide open as always. He stopped showering or tending to his wounds with it closed long ago. You can't quite remember how long. It's just how it is. Has it made for some embarrassing moments where he teases you with a towel barely around his waist as you struggle to keep your eyes solely on his (and not his chest that you want to run your hands on or his neck you want to bury your face in as you drift to sleep)? Yes.

Would you want it any other way? No.

"Is that so, sweetie? I must've gone deaf the last few hours, and missed it. Mind repeating yourself so I can etch it into my mind for future reference?"

"You're the biggest fool I've ever met."

He chuckles. The rich laughter makes your heart flutter and you almost immediately march over to help him.

"May I remind you that you work for this fool? What does that make you?"

"What indeed…"

The pair of you sit in silence except for the sounds of Sylus digging into his own skin to remove a bullet that seems to be giving him particular trouble.

"Be a dear and help your boss out, sweetie."

Part of you wants to give in, as you've done so many times. Sylus' tone gives away that he knows that too. Even without seeing his face, you can imagine the smug smirk it has. Oh how you want to kiss that smirk away so badly.

And that's exactly why you can't comply with his request. You need to put your foot down. Maybe being belligerent will help quell these annoying feelings. Sylus isn't meant to be yours, after all.

"No thanks."

You stare at his thread of fate. It shimmers the same red that everyone else's does. That red used to alarm you as a child. Now, all you see is him. Him and his beautiful red you wish to burrow yourself in forever.

Now that red helps not give into him. Helps you remember that if you want him to meet his soulmate in one piece, you couldn't keep letting him do this.

"Seriously?"

"Yep. My foolish boss did this to himself, so he should pay the price."

"And what price is that?"

"The price of spending who knows how long digging bullets out of his skin."

"Of course. Whatever you say sweetie. A far better price than what… hmmm… what was his name? George? Jarold?"

He's teasing you again. The drawl in his voice told you as much. He didn't even bother to hide the slight chuckles he let out at your tired sigh.

"James," you reply.

"Yes, Jake," now he was just fucking with you. "The price he was demanding for such mediocre business was… appalling. I much prefer this."

You snort at your boss, "Just keep telling yourself that bossman."

"I will, sweetie."

Silence engulfs the pair of you. For you, it sits on your chest, swims in your blood, and chews on your skin. The quiet gnaws at you, a steady and annoying and repetitive peaking reminiscent of Mephisto.

You hate it. But you must maintain it. Even when Sylus glances over his shoulder at you. You're sure to avoid eye contact with him. One look is all it would take for you to storm over to him and tenderly take the bullets out of his skin.

Not this time. This time, you had to be firm.

Your mind drifts back to the meeting. There wasn't anything special about this particular one. Hell, it wasn't even a weapons deal. Rather, James was apparently an old friend of Sherman's with a vinyl collection. The stupid man had gone off the rails recently.

Was it surprising that he did? Not in the least bit. It did make for a good laugh over diner one day though. About how this man thought he could take you two down. Sylus and his faithful companion with a silver tongue, one that seemed to speak to very depths of your soul.

Taking down Sherman wouldn't be difficult. Nothing ever was with you two being the well-oiled machine you are together. But, you never liked being unprepared. You're cautious to a fault. And Sylus wanted to easy your worrying, or nagging as he called it.

Enter James: a connection to Sherman you dug up. One with a pension for vintage music and antique jewelry. It should've been an easy deal. Especially once you saw his thread.

James' thread was a dim red. A red you hadn't seen for quite sometime. A red you didn't expect from someone like him.

A dead soulmate. You could hear the deceased man's faint screams. You could see their final hours together as illness wracked the poor boy. God, they must've been about 16; James had to be at least in his mid 30's now. He still clings to his soulmate all these years later, a simple tattoo over his heart to symbolize the love that was lost too early.

You pitied the man. He wasn't a good man, with countless lives lost at his hands and many loves cut too short because of his actions, but the loss of a soulmate is something no one recovers from. It's one of those things that immutable in this world.

So you used that to crack through his icy exterior. Peeled it back layer by layer until his soul danced in the palm of your hand. James was at your command. Until your boss shattered that.

"Why are you so mad at me, my sweet Gamayun?"

You can't help it: you look up and are immediately greeted by your boss' smug face. And you're angry at falling for his trick. For a moment.

Then you lock eyes. Deep, deep, crimson, so similar yet so unlike the threads of fate you see so often. His red is a good red. His red is the red of your love rather than everyone else's. Sometimes you wonder if his red eyes are your thread of fate, that they're your soulmate connection.

Any other day, you'd soak in the attention of that red. You can't right now. Because in a fraction of a second, you see it. You see the hurt he's trying to cover. You see in his soul how his wounds ache and how he wants your forgiveness, how he wants to make you smile (for some reason).

It's all you need to move from his bed and approach his back. He still looks at you, smirk gone and expression soft with something you can't place. You ignore it. He turns around so that his bare chest faces you. You struggle to not let yourself be flustered.

”It's nothing you haven't seen before. It's no big deal. You're just business partners and companions. Nothing else.”

"Gimme your gauze."

Your tone is sharp. Maybe because you hope to cover how weirdly intimate this feels: your boss basically naked and unguarded as you try to tend to his wounds.

You focus your eyes onto his hands. He holds his bandages in them. You reach for them, but he moves his hand away. You reach again, and Sylus raises his hand above his head, and raises an eyebrow at you.

You can't even be mad at him when he does.

"Why, Gamayun?"

There’s that nickname again. It carries so much. His trust, his affection, and his heart. Just not in the way you hope.

Gamayun carries false dreams, fantasies that haunt you as you sleep at night. Gamayun is a fake promise of a love you'll never have. But it was yours, so you gladly take ownership of it.

"You're pathetic…"

"Because my foolish Morana apparently can't clean up his own messes."

"Ah, but that's why I have you, my sweet, beautiful, and kind Gamayun."

Your hands tremble as you pull back on the roll of gauze. You think Sylus laughs at you, but you can't hear it over the pounding of your heart.

"Stop it," you want to tell him. "Stop giving me hope."

It doesn't take long for you to finish. You help Sylus dress, despite knowing he doesn't in any way, shape, or form need you help. He stopped you when you tried to leave after finishing his bandages, so you figure you wouldn't even bother for now.

"Sylus, what're you—"

"Sylus? Who's Sylus? Since when did you know a Sylus?"

You roll your eyes at him.

“Have you suddenly become a decrepit old man with my noticing?”

"No," he then lifts you into your arms and forces you to meet his eyes.

He stares into your eyes; you stare right back, praying that you give nothing away. He walks towards his bed, still looking at you.

"You must be really mad at me if you're calling me by my name right now."

"Don't be so dramatic you big baby. I called you by name earlier.”

Sylus pays no heed to words. In fact, he takes them in stride, placing you slowly onto his bed. His movements are slow, precise. Almost as if he's afraid to hurt you. But that’s ridiculous; he could never hurt you.

"Are his injuries still causing him problems?"

You keep that thought in mind in order to not trick yourself. In order to not gaslight yourself into believing that there's something more behind his actions. Sylus and you have always had an intimate relationship. Closer than most ever will be. Best friends. Partners in crime.

"This means nothing."

You try to get out of bed, to run away to wallow in your sorrows, but Sylus plops down next you and wraps an arm around you.

"Sleep. We'll discuss this later."

A protest builds up in your throat. It’s pushed back down when his arms tightens around you and his breathing evens out into soft puffs. He’s not asleep; you know that, and he knows you know that. But you play along anyway.

Turning in his arms to play with his hair, you think more about what happened earlier. At how Sylus kept trying to get between you and James when you guys got closer. At how Sylus seemed more passive aggressive with the man the more you two talked, forgetting that there was even someone else in the room. At how Sylus would subtly move you away from James when a crack in the man’s facade would appear at your words.

He got worse when you reciprocated. Of course, you always did on these missions; it’s a great way to build rapport. Today was different. Today was real. You really felt for James. You really wanted to reach him. As someone who also understands of the pain of being without a soulmate—soulless, as society would call you.

But you were different. You didn’t lose your soulmate. You never had one. All you could do was watch as others loved and lost, doomed to never experience the same.

Things exploded when James asked if he could see you again. A normal request from clients and prospective/current business partners alike. But you never quite clicked with them the same way you had with James, a man whose heart was so hurt, much like your own. You hope the poor man is still alive.

Sleep begins to creep up on you as you remember the vigor in Sylus protest. Honestly, it was kind of hot; you rarely get to see him lose composure. Even less so during business exchanges. You burrow into his embrace at the thought. Of the way his face contorted with rage. At the way his Evol thrashed out at those around you.

You use that to cover what you truly remember: the gentle way that same power carried you to safety (he was always weirdly protective of you because of your lack of Evol; strange, considering what you’re capable of). The worried way he asked if you were alright. The kind way he treated you despite your anger.

But, why were you angry? Why are you still angry? Because he once again used violence when it wasn’t needed? Because he didn’t listen when you told him to back off? Because he got himself hurting protecting you? Because this showed that deep down he doesn’t trust you?

No. Never.

Sylus trusts you with everything. And you, in turn, trust him with everything. Well, except one thing: your heart. Maybe that was why you were mad at him. Because when he does things like that, it makes it so hard to let him go.

🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹 🥀 🌹

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @madam8, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia, @ottjhe, @an-ever-angry-bi, @yellowxiaotae, @ni3rdem1se, @vigtore, @picnicinthegarden, @karafrost, @legallyblindasian, @tinyweebstuff, @fantastucbaby, @raraluvz, @merodis, @gremlinartstudio, @lazypostfandomer, @lukassafespace, @caramelizedpopcirn, @theariesview, @dilf-destroyer-04, @rosebelize, @nommingonfood, @mimeiee, @anon34570, @xiofuu, @yumesagashite, @animecrazy76, @olxh, @zaynessbeloved, @acutelilmess

[kanmom51]

2 years to Face.

Fucking unbelievable. It's been bloody 2 years!!!

2 years to Like Crazy.

I love Muse, I really do, but Face for me was a masterpiece. Like Pdogg said at the time, it will break Kpop, because it's beyond.

Face was personal to the core.

Face was innovative, out of the box, every song different and far from cookie cut pop songs we are sometimes used to (very BTS if I may say so - the ability to do different genres and sounds).

Face was JM showing us himself on levels that he has never done before, especially the closed off super private JM we have come to know over the past few years.

Like crazy was JM letting us into his darkest. His coping mechanisms with the turmoil he was experiencing.

This was JM in all his pain and inner turmoil.

And then we had JM fighting back with Set Me Free Pt. 2.

The decision of releasing SMF Pt. 2 first, like reading a book going to the end to make sure all ends well. This is how JM came out of it all. Fighting. Strong. Reborn. Now that you've seen that, we can go back and tell you the story of his struggles. Genius.

And what about the loving? OMG, the loving.

Ending the album with that secret song, the one that was "meant for army", but can't be found to be streamed. The one that only those who bought the actual album can hear. The one that as a gift for army JM tends to shy away from talking about.

Yeah, we know all about that, don't we?

Letter was an amazing honest love song for the one person he loves most of all, the one and only person he invited to feature on his ever so personal album. The one person he literally has a back and forth conversation with in that song.

The one person he's talks to before going to sleep about how they want their futures to be like.

The one person he chose to enlist with and spend their 18 months of military service with.

I love Face. Each and every song on it.

I love JM for being so very honest and brave and sharing all of this with us.

2 years to Face, it's unbelievable how time flies.

79 days to go.

[fandomshenanigans]

Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Neglected!Batsib!Reader

After getting over the initial disappointment that you might not get the kind of family you wanted, you took stock of your situation and found that you actually like this arrangement

You were already a self sufficient from the start and had a life outside of the Manor so it didn't suck too bad

Before Damian was introduced, you spent your evenings in the Manor, either in the library or just wandering in the garden

After Damian came around and made you aware of your "position in the family", suddenly you applied for a part time job in a 24/7 coffee shop and worked the night shift. So you're barely home now

(Plus, you gave the more important stuff you owned to your closest friend to keep so nothing in that room held anything meaningful to you.)

You had dreams for college, wanting to get out there and learn, create a career of your own, everything

You also remember your mother mentioning how she hopes you might be the first in her side of the family to attend college so there was also a sense of duty that made you so eager to reach that milestone

Except..

Suddenly, Bruce's attention was on you. Suddenly, Dick was the most eager to spend time with you. Suddenly, Jason is visiting the Manor, just for you. Suddenly, Tim is more interested in you as a person. Suddenly, Damian is nicer, though just a bit.

Suddenly, you're part of the family.

There were too many changes that it made your head spin but you managed to catch up with the change so now you're just going with the flow

Honestly, this just reminds you of how you dealt with creeps at the coffee store. Just do as they ask to placate them but firmly stand your ground.

If they ask for a smile, you smile at them before excusing yourself. If they ask for some time, you tell them to give you a moment and rearrange your schedule to fit them. (Though you did immediately reject them if they try to take a whole day with you. You had a schedule and you'd be damned if you let them mess that up.)

This continues on for a couple of months and you were simply continuing to indulge them whenever they tried to "make up for lost time"

Until you told your dad about your plans for college.

You had been doing so well at school, your grades were perfect and you were a great student, according to your teacher. You mention to him how you wanted to attend this one college in Metropolis since it had the best science programs

"You're not going to college. At least, you can't go to one that far."

.......huh?

"Maybe choose one that's closer to home? Or better yet, you don't have to go."

Ex-fucking-cuse me?

You gripped the collar of his stupid shirt, glaring into his eyes with pure hatred as you screamed at him, demanding to know what the FUCK that meant.

You demanded to know why is he trying to pull this on you. Was this some twisted power play?

Bruce tried to calm you down, claiming that wasn't what he meant.

But you cut him off before he could bullshit you further.

"Are you that ashamed of me, Mr. Wayne? Am I that much of a stain to your family name that you'd rather keep me locked up so no one can see me? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Then, you dropped him like a hot potato and stormed off

After that revelation, you stopped eating. Stopped taking care of yourself. Stopped going to classes because what was the fucking point? You're not going to reach that milestone in your life so why bother? You simply locked yourself in your room and refused everything.

Everyone is in a panic because it's been WEEKS since you've left your room, since you've started to rot in your bed.

They all did their best to coax/lure you out. But nothing was working.

"I'm sorry, please, just open the door. You can go to college in Metropolis, just like you wanted, okay? I'm sorry for denying you, please." Bruce pleads.

Then, the door opens and now you're hugging him, accepting his apology before you're running off to clean yourself up.

You're back to being the sweet yet distant sibling, who's smile to them was simply for show, who's more interested in anything other than family.

Might continue this but yeah, this is an idea that popped into my head.