#i don’t like talking to people very much all the time but i’d like talking to them

[no-144444]

marco polo- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Things had been a little awkward since coming back to Monaco. Oscar had noticed the way you’d become a little bit more… closed off, or just a bit less talkative. That didn’t bother him. If Oscar Piastri could do anything, he could definitely talk. It took a few days for the two of you to get back into a flow of things, but no matter, he just kept suggesting things you could do together, and you didn’t have anything better to do, so off you went.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“When do you leave for Kigali?” Oscar asked, sipping on his smoothie. You’d think it wasn’t December with the Monaco weather around the two of you. You and Oscar had decided to go for a quick training session (in the form of a swim) before you left for the awards. The FIA prize-giving. The one night of your life that, if you could, you’d pay any half-good impersonator to be you, and you could fuck off and enjoy your break. 

That, alas, would not be happening this year. You had to go. You were World Champion after all. 

“Tomorrow morning I think,” you huffed, swiping your card into the gym. “Want to come by any chance?” you asked, awkwardly. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a date?”

You rolled your eyes, walking away. “I don’t want one,” you sighed. “I have you.”

And with that bombshell, you walked into the women’s dressing room. 

He genuinely didn’t know what to do for a solid minute. He just stood there, his arms out in front of him and his jaw dropped. One of the gym employees had to ask if he was alright. He went into the changing room with a lot on his mind. You hadn’t meant it like that, surely? 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You hadn’t meant it to sound like that, really. You just meant, ‘oh, I don’t want to bother with asking someone to go with me and dealing with the online chatter about the prospects of my dead dating life, and you’re here and my best mate and people know we’re mates so that’s easier and I’d have much more fun with you anyways so yeah’, but you seemed to have a way with words. A way that made everything coming out of your mouth to him, deeply, deeply awkward. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He honestly couldn’t get over the earlier comment, but when you came out in a bikini, his brain stopped altogether. 

“25 metre pool… 40 laps?” you suggested, pulling on your goggles. Granted, the goggles made you look a little bit less sexy, but much more you, and he felt his shorts get tighter again. 

“Sounds good,” he nodded, following you into the pool. That did not sound good. Oscar was a good swimmer, but you went every day you could. He was fucked, but he didn’t notice that since he was too busy staring at you. 

You enjoyed swimming, you found it relaxed you. Your favourite was sea-swimming, but Monté-Carlo beaches are pretty swamped with fans, and you don’t enjoy people taking pictures of you in your swimming togs. You shot off in the pool, a simple breast stroke as Oscar followed behind you. After about 30 minutes, you’d done 46 laps, and Oscar had given up halfway through and had somehow ended up in a marco polo game with a few kids. When you walked over to get him, you sat at the edge of the pool, watching the game with a soft smile on your face. 

“Is that your girlfriend?!” one of the girls gasped. “She’s so pretty!”

Oscar opened his eyes and smiled when he found you, then he looked back at the girl. “She is, isn’t she?” 

The girl swam off again, giggling as she swam around one of her friends. He didn't deny it. He didn't try to correct her. He just smiled and agreed. As much as every voice in your head screamed that he should be ashamed of you, he never was. He wasn't ashamed of you

“You playing?” one of the teenage boys asked, coming up beside you and holding a hand out. 

You looked up to Oscar who smiled and nodded. “I’ll be on again,” he promised. 

You grinned. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Marco?” he called out. You’d both been playing with them for about 20 minutes, but you were genuinely having too much fun to notice. 

“Polo!” you called back, and he could hear the smile on your lips. God, it was good to hear you laugh again. The last triple header had been nothing but work (except from the party but he hadn’t had gained the courage to talk about that yet), and it was nice to see you let loose. 

He reached a hand out and brushed your midriff, making you laugh, and he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his arms, opening his eyes as he laughed with you. He loved this, loved you, loved being around you.

Your giggles died down, as did his and you smiled at him, looking up. “Alright?” he asked, pulling his arm around your shoulder as you both turned back to the kids. You nodded at him as they started explaining the next game to you both. You didn’t mind how his hand stayed around your shoulder. You didn’t mind it one bit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You ended up back at your house, enjoying the setting sun as Oscar cooked dinner on your barbeque. You were busy staring at your garden while he was busy staring at you (and the dinner). 

“I meant it earlier,” you told him, joining him beside the grill. “I want you to come to the awards.”

He shook his head, smiling. “Take someone else,” he insisted. 

“Who else would I take?” you questioned him. “Some random male celebrity who everyone will think I’m dating?”

He tried to ignore the fact that the thought of you with someone else made his stomach flip, but he couldn’t really. He turned to look at you. “People think we’re dating.”

You stared abc at him for a second, then rolled your eyes. “That’s different.”

“How?” he pushed. Again, you just looked at him. It was weird. The air changed. 

“It just… is,” you said, your voice small. “Look, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. I was just asking because you’ve really been the only person there for me, and I think the trophy is as much yours as it is mine,” you huffed. 

He stilled for a moment. Of course he was going to go, from the second you asked. He’d literally do anything you asked. He just… he wanted to give you an out, just in case the offer wasn’t genuine. He was happy to say that it was. And he planned on taking it. 

“Of course I’ll come,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again, and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “I love supporting you.” 

The both of you stilled. Your stomach churned and he just couldn’t believe what he’d done. He hadn't even meant to, it was a complete accident, but it happened. He liked it. He loved days like these, and he hoped that he hadn’t just fucked everything up with one little action. You honestly held your breath for a few seconds, shock taking over, then decided that it was alright, and leant into him more. 

“Thanks Osc.”

Like he’d said earlier, whiplash. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar was an ‘Airport Dad’ in the worst sense of the word. He made sure you two got to the airport 3 hours early (you were flying private), made you triple check your passport and boarding pass three times before he let you get out of the taxi, and demanded the window seat you were sitting in even though it was a private plane. 

The plane ride was enjoyable though, a night of playing uno with him, Max, Charles, Yuki, and George. 

“He’s cheating!” George argued, slamming his cards down after Oscar won a fourth time. 

“How?!” Oscar laughed, arguing back as both Charles and Max rolled their eyes at him, throwing their cards on the table. 

“I don’t know, but he’s doing it!” George seethed, getting up. “I’m getting another drink and by the time I get back Y/n, I expect your race engineer to be sorted out!” 

You laughed at the exchange, taking no sides. Oscar turned to you with a bright smile and roll of his eyes while you started fixing the cards up for the next round.

“You two are insufferable, aren’t you?” Yuki sighed. 

“What do you mean?” you scoffed, throwing a card at him. 

“I’m so single!” he groaned, letting his head rest on the table. “You two keep reminding me of that!”

Max laughed as Lando groaned again, and you gulped back a shocked chuckle. Oscar excused himself to the bathroom for a moment. 

“We’re not dating,” you reminded Yuki. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, it’s not like he’s madly in love with you or anything as well then,” You stared at him for a moment and he rolled his eyes. “I mean come on! The way that man looks at you? It’s insane!” 

You shook your head, brushing him off. “We’re friends, nothing more.” 

“Oh sure.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You all landed and were driven straight to the arena to get ready. You were immediately thrown into makeup and getting dressed, and basically separated from Oscar because Max stole him away. 

You were nervous, there was no point in lying about it. You hated making speeches, you hated being on stage, and you hated being celebrated. You knew you just had to remind yourself that Oscar was somewhere in that audience and he was there for you. He didn’t care what happened, he’d sit there with a smile on his face no matter what. 

Knock knock. 

“We want to see the dress!” Max called from the other side of the door. Good thing you were almost ready. You smiled awkwardly as you opened the door, trying to show off the dress but it just ended up looking like a weird pose. Oscar’s jaw dropped anyway, but you didn’t see since Max was busy pulling you in for a hug. 

Oscar’s slacks got a lot tighter as he watched you in the dress, and he realised the night had become nearly impossible, but he’d do it for you. It would just be slightly tortuous. The way the dress clung to you made him crazy. The red, a stark contrast to the regular papaya racesuit or dark workout clothes he was used to seeing you in. It was maddening how badly he wanted to just reach out and smooth a hand on your hip, or just run a hand through your perfectly styled hair. You were goregous, to put it simply.

“What do you think?” you asked, your voice uncomfortable. 

He smiled down at you. “I think you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I think you’re always beautiful.”

You wished he didn’t say the sweetest things. You still felt like you didn't deserve them. 

He knew you did.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

playing favourites masterlist

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

taglist for this series: (just ask in the comments to be added :)

@smithieandy @anotherapollokid @amz824 @itgirlofthecenturysposts @lokideservesahug @annaluna12 @daemyratwst @nichmeddar @milkysoop @il0vereadingstuff@sleutherclaw@f1wh0recom @st4rg1rln @sleutherclaw @i-love-sirius-black7 @formulas-bitch @prettiest-at-the-party @primadonaprincess55 @teti-menchon0604 @dark-night-sky-99 @sadiemack9 @greasywall @kingshitonly @bellaiscool @i-wish-this-was-me @leeknowinggg @primadonnaprincess55 @teti-menchon0604 @dark-night-sky-99 @sadiemack9 @greasywall @kingshitonly @bellaiscool @widow-cevans @trashstacy @waywardsestras @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @buckybarnessimpp @pausmoon @dying-inside-but-its-classy @sinfully-yoursssn @revrse @hurtblossom @amz824 @ellelabelle @wierdflowerpower @l4ndonorizz @th3r3s398 @czennieszn @skepvids @edgyficuselastica @stvrrlighttt @poppysrin

[olderwomenenthusiast]

pulling rank (emily prentiss)

PAIRING: emily prentiss & fem reader DESCRIPTION: emily pulls rank on you during and arguement at home CAUTION: arguing, established relationship, emily not trusting you WORD COUNT: 1.3k (?) AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read as usual x REQUEST: I don’t know if you take requests but if you do… can you please write something that’s fem reader x Emily Prentiss where Emily is unit chief and pulls rank on the reader while they are at home arguing. Very angsty Ik

The door clicks shut behind you with an unsettling finality. You thought you’d come home to the usual: Emily curled up on the couch, a quiet night in after a long case. But instead, the apartment is unnervingly still.

Emily’s silhouette is bathed in the glow of a single lamp. She’s standing by the kitchen counter, arms crossed tightly, her posture rigid as though she’s been waiting for this moment all night.

"You're late," she says, her voice quiet but cutting through the air like a blade.

You freeze, feeling the weight of her words like a punch to the chest. "I - Emily, I’m sorry," you begin, your heart hammering in your chest. "The case ran late. We had to re-interview the suspect, and then there was paperwork..."

"Right," she interrupts, voice flat, narrowing her eyes at you. "The paperwork." She lets out a soft, bitter laugh. "Always paperwork. The same excuse, every damn time."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I’m not making excuses, Emily. This is how the job works."

She knows that.

"Who were you with?" she asks suddenly, her voice sharp. "Who were you really with for six hours?"

You blink, thrown off balance by the sudden change in tone. "What are you talking about?"

"Stop lying to me," she snaps, her gaze not leaving yours, as if searching for any crack in your words. "I know how this goes. I’ve seen it before. Late nights, working close with people, bonding over cases..." Her voice trails off, dripping with implication.

Your blood runs cold as the suspicion in her eyes hits home. "Emily," you start, feeling the sting of her words. "You think I was --"

"You’re damn right I do," she cuts in, her eyes flashing with something like hurt and fury combined. "I don’t know where you were, but I don’t believe you anymore. I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth when you tell me you’re working."

"How could you even say that?" You take a step forward, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You know me better than that! I’m not sleeping around with someone on the team - I'm not like that!"

"You’re right," she spits out, her voice trembling with emotion. "You’re not like that. You just disappear. You lie by omission. You go missing for hours, and then I’m left here waiting - wondering if you’re coming back to me at all, or if you’ve already found someone else."

Her words hit like a physical blow. You feel your chest tighten with a mix of anger and pain. "You think I’d do that to you?" you ask, voice cracking. "After everything we’ve been through, you think I’d just throw it all away?"

"You already are," Emily says, her words low and venomous. "You’re pulling away, and I don’t know how much longer I can just sit here, pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. You won’t tell me where you were, and then you won’t even pick up your phone, and I can’t trust you anymore."

Her eyes are full of frustration, fear, and something else���something deeper, darker. She’s scared. You see it in the way her shoulders are tense, in the way her lip quivers ever so slightly. But the anger and pain are blinding her, and she won’t let go of her grip on the situation.

"How is this fair?" you shout, your voice rising now, the floodgates opening as the hurt and frustration spill out. "You can’t just accuse me of things like this, Emily! I’m doing my job. I’m not out with someone else, I’m not cheating. I’m working! You can’t just make accusations like this because you’re afraid of losing me!"

"Yes, I can," she snaps back, her voice hardening as she steps toward you. "Because I am losing you. Every time you go off and stay out late, every time I hear the silence on the other end of the phone, I wonder if you're slipping away from me."

You take a step back, your own frustration bubbling over. "I’m here, aren’t I? I’m home now. I’m not with anyone else, I’m with you. But instead of just trusting me, you’re questioning me, accusing me of something I would never do."

"Do you know what it’s like?" she spits, her voice shaking with emotion, all control slipping away. "Do you have any idea what it’s like, sitting here, not knowing where you are, wondering if this is the night you don’t come back to me? I’m not built for this, and I’m not built to watch you slip away."

Her words are a slap in the face. The pain in them is almost too much to bear. You shake your head, your heart pounding. "You think I’m slipping away from you?" you ask, your voice a little broken. "You think I want this? I don’t want to lose you, Emily. You’re the last thing I want to lose. But if you keep treating me like this, if you keep pulling rank like I’m some damn recruit, I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this!"

Emily falters for a moment, her breath catching. "What the hell does that mean?" Her voice cracks, and for a brief moment, her walls come down, her vulnerability shining through. "What do you mean, ‘if you keep treating me like this?’ What do you think I’m doing to you? I’m trying to keep you, trying to protect you from getting hurt --"

"No, you’re trying to control me," you shoot back, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. "You can’t just use your position to make all my choices for me, Emily! I’m not your subordinate, I’m your partner. I don’t answer to you like this. I’m not a damn agent you can just assign hours to."

Her face pales, the sting of your words clearly hitting home. "I’m not trying to control you," she says quietly, the hurt in her voice unmistakable. "But you’re not listening. I’m scared, okay? I’m terrified. And when you pull away, when you don’t call, when you don’t come home, what the hell am I supposed to think? What do you expect me to do?"

You stare at her, the air between you thick with the tension of everything unsaid, everything raw. You feel your own heart breaking, but you can’t help but push back. "I need you to trust me," you whisper, voice trembling, a small plea that feels like it might break you. "I need you to believe me, Emily."

Her eyes soften just for a moment, but the pain is still there, lingering. "I don’t know how to trust you anymore," she admits, her voice barely a whisper. "I don’t know how to make the fear go away."

For a long moment, you both stand there, the silence between you thick and suffocating. You want to reach out, to pull her close, but the distance feels like an ocean between you. Emily’s face is filled with a mix of regret, love, and fear, and you’re not sure if either of you can take another step without breaking.

"Please, Emily," you whisper, your voice raw. "I’m here. I’m yours. I’ll prove it to you, but you have to let me."

She shakes her head, wiping away the tears that have begun to fall. "I don’t know if I can do this anymore," she whispers back, barely audible.

And as she turns away, you’re left standing there, unsure if your words will be enough to pull her back or if you’ve already lost her.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Iris: That was so good. I’m going to be thinking about that dinner for weeks. Ezra: How have you lived here your whole life and never been to Elliot’s? Iris: Eh, there are certain places I’ve always avoided because it’s where all the tourists go.

Ezra: Do a lot of tourists come to the Bay? Iris: Oh yeah, you’d be surprised. People love a charming little coastal town. Ezra: That makes sense. I mean, that’s why I moved here.

Iris: Why did you move? Ezra: Uh [heavy exhale] I needed a fresh start. Iris: Because of your divorce? Ezra: Yeah, pretty much.

Iris: What happened? Ezra: We just… [shrugs] grew apart. Iris: That’s a very vague and cliché answer. What’s the real answer? Ezra: [chuckles] Okay, um, the real answer is… religion. Iris: Oh.

Ezra: When we got married, we believed in the same things. But then, I lost someone close to me, and I began to question everything… everything I’d been taught my whole life to be true… and the more I questioned, the more it all felt like bullshit. For a long time, we didn’t talk about it. I still played the part, and I continued going to church with her to save her the discomfort of people asking after me, and I think that made it easier for us to ignore. But when we started talking about having children, we couldn’t agree on how to raise them, what to teach them, and we realized that it was never going to work. We still loved each other, but we’d become fundamentally different. And it was… sad.

Iris: So, you really did grow apart. Ezra: Some things are cliché for a reason. Iris: Are you still in touch? Like, did you stay friends? Ezra: No. There are no hard feelings, but we agreed a clean break was for the best.

Iris: You’re lucky you figured all this out before having children. A lot of people don’t. Ezra: Very true. Iris: Is that still something you want? Kids? Ezra: I think so, yeah.

Ezra: What about you? Iris: What about me? Ezra: Marriage? Kids? Religious affiliations? Iris: Oof. Pretty heavy topics for a first date, don’t you think?

Ezra: You brought it up. And besides, if you count coffee, this is technically our third date. Iris: Hm. Do you always wait until the third date to kiss someone? Or are you just not that into me? Ezra: Oh, I’m into you. I’m just waiting for the right time.

Iris: Well, if you ask me, now feels pretty good. Ezra: It does, but… Iris: But?

Ezra: It kinda feels like you’re trying to distract me. Iris: I don’t know what you mean.

Ezra: Then answer the questions. Iris: [sighs] Fine. No, I’ve never been married. Yes, I- I want kids. And no, religion is not my thing.

Ezra: That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Iris: No more talking.

[in-hos-wife]

Request: Perhaps a little something of Sang-woo finding the reader after the players vote to end the games, before everyone returns? And he almost chickens out and doesn't approach them, but then they see him and run up to him? lowkey need him to have a soft moment, knowing what comes in those games *sobs*

Together in hell

Cho Sang-woo x reader

Summery: After the players vote to leave, reader sits on a park bench to calm their head. Sang-woo see’s them and is conflicted on what to do should he leave should he talk to them. While he’s sitting there thinking of what to do he hears his name and see’s you running over to him

Word count: 685

Tw: ooc maybe. I don’t know if I wrote his character right at all, mention of illness and death, idk if I missed something let me know

You're sitting on a bench thinking about everything, the game you just played and the people who died. The only reason your shaking body made it out alive. Is because you saw a guy hiding behind another man talking to a guy about staying behind people so the doll thing won’t see you moving, so you got behind him you hoped he wouldn’t notice thinking he’d move leaving you dead but when he saw you he didn’t he stayed in front of you till you both got to the finish line you thanked him when you guys got to the room that you woke up in and you both had a small conversation that’s how you learned his name Cho sang-woo and you told him yours, when it was time to vote you voted to leave and sang-woo voted to stay which upset you but you don’t know him all you know is he saved you and he’s been kind to you, he’s also very handsome and tall but you didn’t think of that much. Right now as you sit there you don’t realize sang-woo was nearby. Sang-woo was walking when he saw you and he froze, you looking at you hand clearly thinking about something. He remembers how you smiled at him when you both passed the line in red light green light and how softly you spoke when you thanked him but what he doesn’t understand is why you were there in that he’ll hole in the first place, he know you know why he was there it was broadcasted on that screen but he didn’t know how someone like you could end up in that place, maybe he could go ask you and talk to you but what if you didn’t want to talk to him or what if he scares you. His thoughts are a mess, as he stood there you look up and finally see him standing there frozen.

Before he could think anymore he hears your voice “Sang-woo! Sang-woo!” He looks over as you run over to him smiling “I didn’t think I’d see you again. Do you live close??” He softly smiles and nods “what about you?” You look up at him “kinda I just like the park” you walk back to the bench and tap the seat next to you and he sits down “well may I ask you a question mister?” He looks at you and nods “why did you want to stay?” He looked at you a pauses for a moment “I need the money to pay my debt I made some bad choices and to loans on my moms work and her house and I want to pay the debt that I put her place in” he looks down at the ground in shame and you put your hand on his shoulder “I bet you’ll get the money even if it means going back…” that makes him smile “what about you why where you in that hell hole in the first place” you look at him then look at the ground fidgeting with your fingers “my mother was ill and she ended up passing her medical bills are a lot of money and I haven’t had the money to pay them” he look at you and thinks for a moment, then he hugs you and you hug him back you both stay there for a moment just hugging he thinks of how small you are in his arms and he kept holding you till you let go “thank you I…I didn’t know I needed that” you stand up and write your number and a notepad you keep on you. “Here, so we can keep in touch sang-woo” you smile at him and hand him the paper, he looks down at your hand and takes your number “thank you” he smile and you both goes your separate ways, when he woke up back in the games he looked around he’s sees Gi-hun, ail and you and his faced drop. He decided he’s gonna try his best to keep you safe as much as he can.

Tagged

@pixiepipedreams

[loveandthings11]

Understanding in 1x02 vs 4x03:

*deep breath*

Early on, this is what Shiv sees:

This is what she doesn’t see:

Kendall is cornered into talking about the business. Wordlessly, gently threatened into it when he said he didn’t want to right now. Gerri and Karl aren't in mourning. They are doing their jobs, and they’re testing him to see if he can do his. If he said no and walked away, the company would be taken out of family control, Logan would be furious, and he'd lose out on his dream forever.

Shiv sees none of that happen, and Kendall doesn't even tell her about it- maybe because he thinks she wouldn't listen, maybe because she said she thinks he’s weak already, or maybe because he just almost never defends himself in general. But she can’t see his perspective without knowing what happened.

The lack of understanding between them results in this disaster:

She thinks he’s being cold by talking to the nominating committee, but we see how he really feels. He just always turns to reason and order in times of crisis and she doesn’t really know that.

He has not forgotten this conversation or Shiv’s perception of him here. He doesn’t want that:

Shiv’s been inside Waystar now. She knows now that talking business for a minute during a dark time doesn’t mean you don’t care. In fact, she did it while Kendall was confessing his worst moment, but it didn’t mean she loves him less. She knows him better now and has seen that he’s anything but emotionless. No one criticizes him for turning to reason and order this time. They ask for it.

No matter what happens, he won’t forget this nice conversation either. He won’t forget that his siblings finally see him the way he’s always hoped they would: as the big brother who can make hard decisions in seemingly impossible moments. He’s the one who can shepherd them through it. There’s trust there now and they finally know how it feels. The door will be open for togetherness now, even if it looks like it might close for a while. It’s not that they changed as people, it’s that they’ve learned how to read each other.

Not seeing each other’s perspectives led to having to be alone:

Now, it seems, even though they will struggle for a while, they have an understanding.

🤍

[gothsuguru]

doing the heavy lifting in a convo can be so tiring omfg

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[bisexualseraphim]

People who see entire demographics of humanity as “the enemy” are so baffling to me, whether they’re incels/misogynists or racists or radfems or whomever I just look at them and wonder why you’d choose a life of such misery. People of a certain gender, sexuality, race or whatever demographic are not inherently your enemy just because they are part of said demographic. Gender and race essentialism is incredibly dangerous and untrue and it especially confuses me when people who claim to be trans allies abide by the former because that mindset is especially dangerous to trans people.

People are individuals, not a hive mind. Society as a whole has massive issues, and some groups may benefit from them more than others (like how the patriarchy hurts men but they still benefit from it far more than women ever will because it has men in mind, albeit only a certain type of man), but individuals are individuals. And what a depressing life it must be to instead navigate the world believing that millions of people are beneath you before they’ve even spoken a word.

[milo-is-rambling]

I can’t even imagine living without anxiety. Like. How. What?

[quietwingsinthesky]

oh, yeah, another thing i noticed that was odd about s5 in comparison to earlier seasons was how much they relied on like. not the history of the doctor, exactly, but the image of that history. whether from little easter eggs of the first doctor’s picture popping up everywhere to i think the two(?) times in the season we get a montage of past doctors. and i honestly can’t remember anything like that happening earlier (with the exception of the time crash short, which felt more substantial to me and was also like. 7 straight minutes of david tennant being allowed to fangirl.)

and i say ‘the image’ because hell knows the RTD era was pulling from doctor who past left, right, and center, but it rarely felt like a moment of ‘look at this old thing, you remember old thing? old thing was cool and so are we for continuing it.’ and more like ‘here’s a species/character/etc from classic who. and here’s how they’ve changed and fit into the new world we’ve built for the show.’

I guess, the difference here for me is that. i haven’t watched classic who. s5 shows me a slideshow of doctors and to me, those are the guys i once ranked by how sexy i think they are. and not much else. i don’t have an emotional connection to an image. but take, say, school reunion? an episode that was my favorite even back when i was a kid specifically because i adored sarah jane? i had no idea who she was then, i only just figured out a little bit ago which doctor she traveled with, and exclusively all i’ve watched of her is that episode in s2 and the sarah jane adventures. and yet, that episode, without the context there for me, managed to make sense to me. i’m sure it was probably even more impactful to fans of sarah jane from classic who, but it didn’t lose its impact without that knowledge.

so, that’s a shift. i don’t want to say it’s a negative one, exactly, because maybe people who have seen classic who like these references and i’m missing something. but, to me, it feels a little more shallow.

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[seilon]

pro: ran into a coworker at a bar last night who I don’t really talk to usually (he works upstairs, I work downstairs) and we talked and im pretty sure we were highkey flirting and he bought me a drink and the bar merch shirt i was interested in and thanks to the power of alcohol i guess i asked for his number and he gladly gave it to me and. yeah

con: i have the second worst hangover i have ever had and have been fighting for my fucking life just to eat saltines

[sexyleon]

I officially completely unplugged myself as much as I can 🙃🙃🙃 I’m way too reliant on my phone and waiting for people to talk to me is super unhealthy and has made me very anxious. I literally turned off ever single possible notification and will purposefully not be responding to messages because I just need time a space to figure out how to navigate myself without validation from others.

[maaarine]

Why are British teenage girls so unhappy? Here’s the answer (Caitlin Moran, The Times, Sep 13 2024)

"The report, by the Children’s Society, found that British 15-year-old girls are the most unhappy in Europe.

British girls aged 10-15 are “significantly less happy” with their life, appearance, family and school than the average boy — and their happiness is still declining.

Boys’ life satisfaction, meanwhile, remains broadly stable. (…)

But I still didn’t have an “aha!” moment about why this so disproportionately affects girls until… I talked to some teenage girls.

It was at a party, and I went to vape with them on the patio. Because I take my nicotine like children do.

“Duh — it’s the boys,” one said when I brought it up, as all the others agreed.

“The boys?” I asked.

My last book, What About Men?, had been all about how much boys struggle these days: their loneliness; their suicide rates. I’d spent the past year feeling very sympathetic towards boys.

“Yeah, well, who do you think they’re taking out their unhappiness on? It’s us,” another girl said.

“One boy at school used to draw a picture every day of how ugly I was,” a third girl said. “Every day for two years.”

“They’ve all got ‘Rate The Girls’ polls on their WhatsApps,” the first said. “They mark you down for weight gain, haircuts, what you say.”

“But then, if you’re hot, it’s just as bad, in a different way, because they’ll be talking about how they want to f*** you.”

The girls discussed coping techniques. Bad news: none of them worked.

“The only way you can stop them is if you become ‘one of the boys’ and hang out with them. But then,” the second girl said with a sigh, “all the other girls call you a slut. Because you’ve gone over to the boys’ side.”

“Surely it’s not all the boys?” I said. “There must be some nice boys?”

“Oh, yeah,” one girl said. “But they keep their heads down. Because… well, look.”

She showed me the Instagram account of her friend. Under every picture she posted of herself — smiling in a new dress; with her dog — dozens of anonymous accounts had replied with the most rank abuse.

“Fat.” “Slut.” “You gonna try and kill yourself again, for attention?”

“They’re all boys from her school,” she said. “And look, this one boy tried to defend her.”

I saw a series of messages from a brave teenage boy, posting things like, “You’re all big men, leaving these replies under anonymous accounts.”

As I could see, this boy immediately became a target too. Mainly accusations that he was “white knighting” this girl: “You wanna f*** her, bro?”

“So,” I asked, “you don’t think it’s social media pressure to be beautiful, or the economy, that’s making girls so sad?”

“Well, yeah, them too,” the first girl said. “But, Monday-Friday, 9-3, I’m not on social media. I’m not… in the economy. I’m just with these boys. And no one talks about how horrible they are.”

I thought about another recent report, showing a 30 per cent ideological gap between Gen Z men, who are increasingly conservative, and Gen Z women, who are increasingly progressive.

I thought about Andrew Tate, who has nine million mostly young male followers — and faces human trafficking charges, which he denies.

And I thought: maybe these girls are on to something. Maybe more people need to vape with teenage girls and ask them for the school gossip."

[chiritori]

i wish it was easier to find people who share my interests irl

[selfcarecap]

✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink

warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross 

This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)

Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first. 

What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.

But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this. 

He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.

Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.  

Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly. 

But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.

And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible. 

He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”

You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”

And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.

He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”. 

“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.

 “And you don’t touch yourself?”

You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.” 

Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?” 

“I don’t know, a few seconds.”

And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.

“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”

Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.” 

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” 

He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM. 

“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”. 

You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. 

You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.

He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his. 

You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches. 

He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead. 

He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are. 

He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length. 

He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed. 

He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does. 

It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you. 

-

You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection. 

He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside. 

It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers. 

“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making. 

“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips. 

“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin. 

“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that. 

-

It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably. 

He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all. 

But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out. 

You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”

He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.

 “I can be anything you like, bub.” 

You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.” 

He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you. 

It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.

Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile. 

“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants. 

“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.” 

You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun. 

“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve. 

“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?” 

“Not at all, don’t worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, bub.” 

You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket. 

“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.

You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.

“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him. 

But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.

He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.

“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.

And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.

“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.

He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?” 

You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.

He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.

-

Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day. 

Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.

He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.

You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.

“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.

Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.

“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.

“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”

He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”

And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”

He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.

And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”

“If you’re really sure?” 

You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”

And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”. 

You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”

“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”

You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”. 

Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?” 

You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason. 

You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.

And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.

“You wanna see?”

You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure. 

You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.

“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.

“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.

He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.

“Does it feel good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”

You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.

Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.

“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.

“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.

“Do you feel better?”

Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”

“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.

-

It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.

You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.

 “I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?” 

Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it. 

He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.

“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.

You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.

“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”

You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.

“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.

His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.

“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.

He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.

“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.

“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.

Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.

But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.

“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.

He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.

“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.

“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.

“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.

You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.

You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.

“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.

You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.

-

✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3