#the simple fact that i can't fucking do it myself

[kurosagihater]

ahaha yes let's do this with Romeo with the current understanding i hv about him (this is very much biased)

To begin, I think I have a thing for guys who fell from grace yet still act all mighty and proud and obnoxious as if the world should be handed to them on a silver platter (and I would fucking do it if I could. You have no idea how much I want to) but they actually worked hard to get to where they at. Before I liked him I liked Izumi (enstars) and I guess that's what they both have in common. I do have a taste. I hate that they're my taste sometimes (No I don't).

To be honest I won't argue much if people say they don't like his personality. I acknowledged the fact that he chased his junior with a literal weapon, stripped them, and confined them in a cage like he's treating some animal (sorry Kaito). He got his ambition and honestly... I get it. He's not afraid to take risk and he knows how to get things done, even though some of them aren't fair to others sometimes.

I don't wanna agree with the whole pretty privilege thing but believe me when I say I will follow through with it if it's him. God it feels so fucked up for me to type that but idk how else to explain it. "So you just like him because he's pretty?" fuck idk. maybe? I would still like him even without understanding his character lmao. But tell me why I would sit in silence for a whole night staring at nothingness every time I think of his stigma? Or his bad leg?

"He complaints a lot." They're all justified in my eyes. Man got high standards and it's people around him that are incompetent (I'm kidding). But hey, time is money and he won't be wasting any.

It amaze me how he can juggle everything all at once. Taking care of his appearance, taking care of the casino, taking care of Taiga. I would've lost my mind if I were him. I can't even keep a simple routine for myself like having a decent sleep and eating schedule (it's currently midnight as I'm typing this). Whatever fuel he has to keep himself going, I need that. (Is it revenge, I wonder...). And I need to keep my priorities straight but fffuuuuuck it's so difficult.

"He's selfish." I prefer other term like goal oriented. He's strict on himself and others (but not in Luca's "hard on others hard on himself" way). On the contrary, I, myself, leans more into the selfless category, and I got hurt a lot by that. I'd look at him and deep down I wish I can be a little selfish too. Just for myself. But at the same time I'd be haunted by the guilt that hasn't even come and I'd back out so fast. I am so sorry for being a loser, Romeo.

He's neither an optimist nor pessimist—he's a realist. At least to me. And he makes me want to be a better person—as weird as that sounds since we're talking about Romeo here.

I need more of his past, please. It'd hurt me most likely but I'll take any crumbs. He might bitch a lot but he's my bitch <3 (im sorry romeo pls put the gun down)

I draw the line at people calling him ugly. You will NOT put that word in the same sentence as him IDC IDC. If anyone ever say that we will argue sorry not sorry <3

And I wish people wouldn't reduce him to like a tsundere or smth. I mean he is one but come on...

That should be all for this. I can go on and on about the things I love about Romeo bcs I'm blinded like that LOL. The easiest thing is to say I like him because he's pretty so so fucking pretty I'd give him the world in its entirety. It'll save you the trouble from hearing my (more or less nonsensical) reasonings.

tkdb fans- reblog this post with your best defense for your favorite! I'm trying to understand what everyone likes about each character :D

[lucyvaleheart]

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[uncanny-tranny]

I think it would really benefit people to internalize that mental illnesses are often chronic and not acute. Some of us will never be able to jump the hurdle of managing illness, much less sustaining a sense of normalcy. Many of us will never "recover," will never manage symptoms, will never even come close to appearing normal - and this is for any condition, even the ones labeled as "simple" disorders or "easy-to-manage" disorders.

It isn't a failure if you cannot manage your symptoms. It isn't a moral failure, and you aren't an awful person. You are human. There's only so much you can do before recognizing that you cannot lift the world. Give yourself the space to be ill because, functionally, you are.

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Also. The weird girl in school feeling of both intense jealousy and violent repulsion towards "normal" girls.

[guarshroom]

Y'all ever just be an inch from having a complete mental breakdown at work?

[mxgyver]

.

[theflyingfeeling]

It's not too late to start being kind to yourself today 💕✨️ but i hope tomorrow is a better day for you if today wasn't so great 💖

So sweet of you to say that 🥺 I'm afraid I've already fallen into that vicious "I can't do this" cycle so today's lost, but as I said, maybe tomorrow will be better

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

[solvisun]

010525 ♡ the ultimate cure to your sickness is simple: just listen to the sweet sound of tsukishima kei's voice. ( fluffy fluff. some swearing. not proofread. )

the world kind of flips upside down when sickness has fallen upon you.

your clothes don’t feel comfortable—they scratch your skin in a way you want to rip it off of you. food tastes bland and stale. your ears are sensitive to noise, even the slightest hum like your fan aren’t an exception. your runny nose makes you miss the feeling of breathing like a normal person. and you’re so exhausted even though all you’ve been doing is mope around lying in your bed and everything pisses you off.

you’re not in a fever; worse, you’ve caught a random flu which makes you feel like you’re running a fever.

you sniff and realise you’ve already went through four boxes of tissues right as you fished out the last one, groaning from frustration as you toss them into the bin. there’s nothing left—your box of tissues as well as your will.

it isn’t until it’s afternoon that you scurry off into taking your medicine because while you tried to get up moments ago, you couldn’t. or rather, you didn’t want to. (eh, same thing.) and then you unexpectedly dozed off while staring into the void of your ceiling.

you think you’ve calmed down after gulping through a whole glass of water, but as you feel more of the atmosphere chill crawl into your body even after being bundled up by your comforters and blankets, you’re forced to relent to the fact that you’re not going to get through this soon—especially not without someone’s help.

or at least, a company.

so you do your best not to feel ashamed as you pull out your phone, dialed that one specific contact and wait through the ringing instead of throwing your device out of the window and scream.

you didn’t even give tsukishima kei a heads up. he might not even answer straight away. or he might never answer at all. you can’t hear your phone beeping over your loud thoughts ready to consume you. and then you physically jumped when you suddenly hear a soft voice cutting through the static.

no, soft isn’t the right word. soothing, perhaps. despite the nonchalance, you had always found his voice attractive.

“hello?”

still, it catches you off guard.

you don’t respond right away, your throat tight and dry, you wonder if you’ve made a mistake. but then tsukishima speaks again, his tone dipping with faint exasperation.

“are you just going to sit there breathing into the phone, or…?”

“uh, hi,” you mumble, voice rough and embarrassingly hoarse. “sorry. i… didn’t mean to—”

“yeah, yeah, skip the apology. what do you want?” he interrupts, but there’s no real bite in his voice. if anything, he sounds calmer than usual. though you can’t quite place it.

you hesitate, clutching your phone a little tighter. “just… wanted to hear someone’s voice.”

the line goes quiet for a beat, and you wince internally. you’re convinced he’s about to hang up when he sighs.

“with the way you're talking, i can't tell if you're actually speaking words or just doing a live ASMR demo of a clogged drain,” he remarks flatly, and despite the jab, there’s a thread of concern laced through the words.

“what the fuck. i’m just sick,” you reply, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see.

“no shit. what happened to you?”

“i have no idea myself.”

“hold on.” there’s some shuffling on his end, followed by muffled voices. “yamaguchi says hi,” tsukishima adds, his tone noticeably lighter, though still tinged with his signature indifference.

“hi yams,” you drawl, feeling a tiny smile tug at your lips.

more rustling, and then yamaguchi’s distant voice comes through, says your name cheerful and clear: “get well soon!”

the faint sound of laughter in the background feels like sunlight breaking through your cloudy mood, and you can’t help but laugh softly, though followed by a cough.

“how was practice?”

“fine,” tsukishima answers shortly, as expected.

yamaguchi, however, fills in the silence. “it ended early today. coach wanted us to rest up for the match this weekend.”

there’s a brief exchange between the two before you hear yamaguchi say goodbye, his voice growing fainter as he walks away. then it’s just you and tsukishima.

“..hey,” you start after a while, growing awkward just hearing his footsteps and the wind.

“what?”

“how’s school?”

“do you really want me to talk?”

“yes. please.”

he sighs, “ms. nakajima called in sick too, so no surprise quiz, fortunately.”

“oh, yippee.”

you hear a suppressed snort on the other end of the line, but you don’t comment, opting instead to listen to the steady rhythm of his voice as he recounts his day.

it takes a bit of coaxing, but he eventually keeps going. you close your eyes, letting the cadence of his words wash over you like a soothing tide.

complaints about school, a snide comment about someone in his class, a dry recount of shoyo almost tripping over a volleyball during practice. the casualness of it all feels like a warm blanket, his dry quips bubbling a quiet chuckle from you every now and then. you catch yourself smiling, your cheeks heating—not just from the lingering flush of your illness, but maybe... maybe because of him.

the thought throws you off, and suddenly you feel warmer than you should.

his voice is just so… calming. like a large hand spreading over your shivering skin, the warmth seeping in slowly and gently, settles you all bundled up in ease. the way he talks to you is unhurried, deliberate, like there’s nothing pressing or wrong in the world at this moment—not with him here, not with you listening.

“are you even listening?” he suddenly asks, though it's rhetorical, softer.

you smile, eyes still closed, as if trying to commit this moment to memory. “mhm. keep talking. i like listening to you.”

the line goes silent for a moment. you can picture him adjusting his glasses, his jaw tightening as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks, though he’d deny it with every ounce of sarcasm in his body.

“you’re so weird,” he mutters, and you try not to snicker.

still, he doesn’t stop talking.

it stretches into more mundane things; —the weather, a stupid argument in class that yamaguchi tried to mediate, the latest book he’s reading. this, grounds you in a way that's therapeutic, something special and long-lasting—and makes your chest feel so much lighter. just hearing him makes the gnawing loneliness and irritability of your sickness fade into the backdrop, almost as if you forgot you were wallowing in misery minutes ago.

—oh wait, how long has it been exactly?

you glance at the clock, startled to see the time.

“wait,” you interrupt gently, your voice hoarse but amused. “didn’t you say practice ended early? shouldn’t you be home by now?”

there’s a brief pause on the line, and then you hear the faint sound of rustling, like a plastic bag shifting.

“i am,” he says simply.

you frown, confused. “then why haven’t you—”

“i'm here. open the door.”

you blink, his words sinking in like a slow ripple. “huh?”

"open. your. door-"

"i heard you the first time!"

your heart skips, and you bolt upright, clutching the phone as if that could steady the sudden rush of emotions. “you… you’re outside?”

“obviously.”

"what if i was greeted by a murderer and not you?"

"what if i was the murderer?"

you laugh. scrambling out of bed, you nearly trip over your comforter in your haste to reach the door. you hesitate for a moment, hand hovering over the knob, suddenly self-conscious of how disheveled you look. but the thought of him waiting, standing outside in the cold, pushes you to open it.

and there he is.

tsukishima kei, with a plastic bag in one hand and a familiar, unimpressed look on his face, though there’s something... inexplicable in his expression, more focused, tense.

“you didn’t have to.”

“yeah, well, maybe i did,” he brushes past you to step inside just enough to hand you the bag. “you’re hopeless. there’s some soup, medicine, and, uh…” he clears his throat, glancing away. “other stuff.”

you glance at the bag, heart swelling. “thank you,” you murmur, voice quiet and sincere.

he doesn’t reply right away, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he reaches out to ruffle your hair, you think you've mistaken the gesture for a flick in the forehead, instinctively closing your eyes. when he doesn't, you feel dumbfounded by the sudden act.

his hand lingers for a moment longer than necessary, gaze quiet but solely on you. you feel—warm, and about to sneeze hard with how itchy your nose is. and as much as you'd like for him to be this close to you, your sickness is irritatingly getting in the way.

you swivel to the side, "ah-choo!" and again, he takes you by surprise when he carefully shoves a tissue on your face when you hear a breathless and poorly suppressed laugh.

"laughing at my suffering now?" you blow your nose, trying to act more sickly for dramatic effects.

"if you knew how cute you look right now.."

you're turning delirious. "i'm what now?"

"rest up," is what he replies. dismissive. like he's speaking to himself.

and just like that, his already at the doorway, hand on the doorknob. “don’t forget to eat. and sleep. properly.”

a nod is all you can muster, biting back a smile as you watch him retreat.

as the door clicks shut behind him, you’re left standing there, warmth lingering where his hand had been.

meanwhile, tsukishima curses under his breath as he walks away, his cheeks burning despite the cold air, the sky bruised in blood orange and bathing him in a mellow glow. “stupid,” he mutters, adjusting his scarf as if that could hide the rush of warmth in his chest, red on his cheeks.

“…i can’t get sick.” he thinks he is already, considering how flushed he is right now.

wrote this when i was sick last week, thought of him, wrote him while listening to mazzy star <3

[vanesycho]

I’m not sure if this was a request you wanted so feel free not write it! telling nct dream you aren't wearing panties (reaction)

welcome to the nct dream reaction！[when they realized you weren't wearing underwear] | m.list | warning:nsfw content wc:1,5k

a/n:I hope you are all well, I don't think it's that good but honestly I'm proud of myself for even being able to write this lol.

enjoy reading！

Mark 마크 | You were sitting in a simple but warm restaurant and watching Mark with your small smile as he frowned at the menu. The fact that he was unaware of what was going to happen was making you even more excited. "Can't choose?" He looked up at you and smiled. "Yeah, what's on your mind baby?" You took a look at the menu and picked up your phone to send him a message. Trying to hide your smile, you went back to the menu. The moment Mark saw the message, he had a coughing fit and looked at you with confused eyes. "Are you kidding me?" You bit your lower lip. He didn't think you were serious until he dropped his fork on purpose and went under the table. "Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath and swallowed hard. He didn't know how long you had been like this and it made him even more nervous. "We're leaving." He took off his jacket and came over to you. "But we just came?" you asked innocently, he laughed angrily at how you acted like you didn't do anything and leaned into your ear "Tie that fucking jacket around your waist and walk to the car. I don't know who gave you the courage but I'll make sure you don't do it again."

Renjun 런쥔 | You knew that what you did would definitely piss him off, but you took the risk anyway. What made it worse was that Renjun's friends were there too. You were sitting next to each other on the couch listening to them, Renjun had covered you with his jacket because of the shortness of your skirt, but you knew that wouldn't stop you. You were about to stand up when his voice stopped you "Where are you going?" you turned to him and put on an innocent smile "I need to drink water." you stood up and he could see that you weren't wearing any underwear, even though there was a small gap in the back of your skirt. Renjun frowned and, ignoring the others, he walked behind you and grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him and put you between him and the door "Do you think you're funny or are you testing my patience?" you pressed your lips together, you could definitely see that he was angry and seeing that you were amused by the situation made him laugh hysterically. “Ah..Of course you like it. You’re curious about showing your ass to the others huh?” he removed his hand from your arm and stepped back, you looked at him in disbelief, you needed him and he was doing the exact opposite. “Keep going then. I wonder if you’ll dare to get up again when all your wetness is soaking Jaemin’s seat.”

Jeno 제노 | You were so excited that you couldn’t sit still in the car you got in. Jeno occasionally glanced at you and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so eager to see my friends.” You didn’t really care, they had ruined everything by arranging a random meeting on the day you needed him the most and even though you told him you didn’t want him to go, you were here now. You were excited because there was only one thing left to change his mind. When he stopped in front of the house, you opened the door but as you were about to get up, he noticed your bare pussy under your skirt. Jeno grabbed your wrist and made you sit back in the seat. “Tell me you didn’t do this on purpose.” His voice tone made your skin crawl. “I told you not to go but you didn’t listen, I should have at least gotten your attention somehow.” he laughed angrily as he heard your answer and started the car again, you put on a smile on your face knowing you were going home and it didn’t take long for him to realize it “Oh yeah keep smiling, if you think I’m going to give you what you want after all that sluttiness you’ve done, you’re wrong. The redness that will make you cover your ass will make sure you don’t do it again.”

Haechan 해찬 | It didn’t take long for Haechan to realize this. He moved up your leg that he was caressing under the covers while having a movie night with the others and laughed to himself when he reached your bare pussy. You didn’t stop him, he knew you wouldn’t, if you were teasing him he would do it twice as much to you. Until you regretted it. You held back a moan as his finger slid easily into your already wet pussy, his eyes on the movie as if nothing had happened while his finger slowly caressed you. You approached him and tried to whisper in his ear between your rapid breaths “Please..We need to go to the bathroom, I don’t know how long I can last like this.” He looked at you, leaning in to your lips but not kissing them, slowly inserting his second finger inside you. "What? Aren't you having fun? You better think twice before teasing me from now on. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to show you what the outcome will be."

Jaemin 재민 | You were walking towards the cafe you were going to with Jaemin. Knowing that he had underwear in his jacket pocket, you took his arm and entered. "Baby, I have to go to the bathroom, you can order for me, right?" He nodded and got in line. You were washing your hands, waiting for his reaction. But looked up when you heard the door open behind you and caught Jaemin's eyes in the mirror. He slowly walked towards you with the underwear in his hand, stopped when he was behind you and brought his hand under your skirt and towards your pussy, realized you weren't bluffing and you weren't really wearing underwear, he licked his lips "So you want to play like this huh?" He led you to one of the empty toilets, before you had a chance to say anything, he grabbed your chin and made you look at him "Let's see if you can enjoy this game when everyone in the cafe hears your screams."

Chenle 천러 | He didn't know why you specifically wanted him to come for the shopping, but the last thing he wanted to do was upset you, so he was waiting for you while you were trying on your skirt in the cabin and was on his phone on the other side. After you put on your skirt, you took off your underwear and took one last breath before opening the door and walked out of the cabin to show him the skirt. He looked up from his phone and looked you up and down, you saw his frown and pursed your lips. "Don't you like it?" You tilted your head slightly to the side, his eyes fixated on your skirt. "No- you're so beautiful baby. I'm just not sure you'd be comfortable with that." He approached and grabbed the ends of your skirt, as he was about to gently pull it down, he saw your bare ass in the mirror inside the cabin through the open door. You turned around to look at where he was looking and met his angry gaze in the mirror. Then turned to him but soon found yourself inside the changing room, he walked in and locked the door. "Are you that keen on being a slut? If you enjoy annoying me so much, you better not beg me to stop after that." he continued as he unbuckled the belt of his pants. "Now on your knees. I'll make sure you never have the courage to do it again when I finish this without letting you have a single drop of pleasure."

Jisung 지성 | Innocent Jisung just wanted to take a nice photo of you by the beach. He smiled and held up the camera, waiting for you to change your pose, but the wind that came ruined everything. His expression changed when he looked at your skirt that was flying, and after checking if there was anyone around, he quickly came to you. His hand went to the front of your skirt and stopped it from flying, “Baby- did you forget to put on your underwear?” When he saw you laughing at him, he realized that you did it on purpose and shame washed over him, he took off his jacket and tied it around your waist. “Please don’t do that again, do you want me to lose my mind?” You placed your hands on his cheeks and kissed his lips. “I want you, Jisung…” your needy tone made him swallow hard. “Next time, instead of resorting to such methods, tell me that. One day, you’re going to drive me crazy and it won’t be good for you."

[mandatory-ftmbreeder]

I like to draw a lot and lately I've been having a hard time finding references for a new project I'm working on.

I ask you if you wanna come over and let me take some pictures of you to use as reference, we can hang out and it'll be fun. You agree, happy to help your friend and have an excuse to hang out.

You come over and I ask you to do a few simple action poses. Nothing crazy. But then I point out the fact that your clothes are kinda baggy, so it'll be hard for me to understand your anatomy beneath them. I ask if you'd be willing to just wear your binder and boxers, and I promise these photos will only be seen by me. You agree again, because you know I won't share them, and we're both trans guys, so it's alright, right?

The poses get a bit more ... specific. I ask you to get on all fours. To lay on your back and stomach. To sit with your legs spread. Poses that are definitely meant to be provocative.

I finally tell you what the project is for. I'm drawing a lot of self-indulgent trans guy porn and want to make a short comic about it. I say that the most difficult thing to get references for is t guys with their pussy visible. So if you really wanted to be helpful, you could take your boxers off and let me see everything.

You agree. You kick your boxers off, and I continue making you pose in all sorts of ways that now feel outright humiliating. Sit on your ass and hold your legs open with your hands. Get on your hands and knees face down, ass up, and really put your ass up high. Lay like you're about to get fucked missionary style. Press yourself against the wall and spread your legs wide. Let me get a few up close pictures of you spreading your hole as wide as you can.

And despite how embarrassing this is, that I'm just your friend asking for a favor, you're getting wet. Really fucking wet. It only makes you even more embarrassed and you wonder if I notice it, because if I am, I'm not saying anything.

But I absolutely notice it. Its hard not to, when your pussy is literally fucking glistening in the light. I want to touch it so fucking bad its taking every last ounce of self restraint in me to not just start playing with you. I think of any excuse I can make up to touch you.

Finally I get my chance. You're in a pose where you can't reach your pussy very well to spread it open, so I use my fingers to spread it open myself.

"Holy shit, you're really wet right now. Are you wet like this all the time?" I finally ask, my fingers gently rubbing around your hole. It's actually a little shocking to me just how wet it feels.

You shake your head. Obviously, you're probably not gonna constantly be dripping, but I just wanted to make you say it.

"Why are you so wet right now, then? Is it because... of what we're doing?"

Slowly, you nod, feeling more embarrassed than you have this whole time.

"Huh. I didn't know my friend was such an exhibitionist slut." I say, fingers teasing up and down your cunt. Your entire body trembles and you let out a whine, unable to even formulate an answer right now.

I tease my fingers right around your hole. Pressing in just a slight bit. Pressing more and more until two of my fingers finally push inside your cunt, sliding deeper till they’re fully inside. “Sorry, I would’ve asked if I could penetrate you, but… I mean, its pretty obvious that’s what you want.”

My fingers sliding in and out of your hole faster till im fingerfucking you. My other hand coming up to gently pinch and pull at your clit, all thick and fat from T. You whine and grind down against my fingers. I flick your clit a few more time with my fingers before finally rubbing it in earnest like you so clearly need.

“I’ll let you cum, as long as you let me shove a dildo up your cunt later and take pictures of it. I need some good references of a little bitch getting fucked.”

You don’t just agree- you outright beg me to take all the pictures I want, just so you can cum.

“And its good jerk off material for me, too. Hope you don’t get too mad at me if I ‘accidentally’ take a few videos of it too.”

I slap your cunt with my hand, the noise wet and loud and filthy, before going back to rubbing your clit just how you love it being touched. Your entire body trembles at how turned on you are, how good you feel, and suddenly your orgasm is rushing through you, making your hips jerk, cunt clench around my fingers, as all you can do is let it take you. I keep fingerfucking you and rubbing you through your orgasm, not stopping till you seem coherent again.

“That’s a good fucking bitch.” I say, pulling out my fingers and licking them clean. I give your ass a firm slap as you collapse to the ground in exhaustion.

I take a quick picture of you like this, looking sated and well-fucked. “You’re the best model a guy could ask for. Now let me see your hole, I wanna capture the way it looks all stretched out right now.”

[ramp-it-up]

Anatomy of a Kiss

Summary: You and Logan agree on one thing: you both hate each other. So what happens when you kiss him?

Word count: 4.2 K

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. ONE DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILER AHEAD! Read at your own risk. S MUT! Enemies to lovers; snark to fluff, idiots in love; use of the words stupid, dumb, insipid as insults. Reader's father is either a mobster or a mutant villain, or both; (Reader may or may not be a mutant herself), a couple dark themes and mention of parent death; Reader has Daddy issues; Reader is a thicc girlie; Princess and Old Man as nicknames; there are two slaps; a tipsy kiss; povs switch thorughout the fic. pining; insinuations of masturbation, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise and degredation kink, size kink, creampie, cum play, explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up) voice kink, this Logan is Dom Logan.

A/N: This was in my soul for a couple of weeks, but I don't feel it's all that great. Here goes. Let me know if you like it by reblogging, liking and commenting please. Thank you. ☺️

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The biggest mistake that Logan Howlett ever made in his life was kissing you back.

Because now he was never going to get you out of his system. 

—--

You were celebrating.

Being being voted best small business owner and philanthropist in the city was a big fucking deal. You decided to let your hair down and let go of your famous self-control and discipline for one night.

And now you were tooted on most of a bottle of Moet and Chandon as you walked back to your high rise apartment from the civic center.

It was a perfect night and you stopped and smiled at the moon, feeling sublime. 

Until you heard his voice.

“Keep moving before I throw you over my shoulder and get you inside myself, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes at your body guard, the only thing your father offered you that you didn’t reject.

Because you weren’t stupid. 

Other than sharing his dna, you were not like your father at all, and you divested yourself of everything that had to do with him.

“What about the penthouse? You kept that.”

Your body felt engulfed as if by flames. You were angry, both at the fact that you’d apparently said all that out loud, and at Logan’s audacity.

“Fuck you, Howlett. The apartment is my mother’s. But she died because of my dad and that’s why he wants to “protect” me.”

You wobbled as you did your air quotes, and you could sense Logan ready to spring to catch you if you fell. You recovered quickly, however, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“But he can't seem to do the one thing that will protect me. Get out of the life. He’s an old man, for heaven’s sake!”

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not so old.”

You were in full blown argument mode.

“He’s over 70.”

“Like I said, he’s not so old. And you don’t know so much, little girl. Life is not that simple.”

“I am 32 years old, Mr. Howlett. I am not one of those little girls that fawn all over you. I am a woman.”

You straightened up and you knew that your thick body in the black cocktail dress was banging.

Logan’s eyes reflected your body, although he was staring back into yours. He’d taken it all in earlier.

“You are a teeny, tiny little Princess.”

He was fucking infuriating as he smiled down at you like that. The alcohol made you step to him.

“Someone needs to kiss that insipid smirk off your face, Howlett.”

That stupid eyebrow shot up, and your belly flipped.

Slap. You meant slap, but Logan was quicker than your champagne brain.

“I dare you, Princess.”

—-----

After what happened happened, you hightailed it back to your building, the electricity zapping around the elevator as you stared each other down. As soon as the doors opened, you moved as quickly as your tipsy legs would take through your foyer and living room and down the hallway to your bedroom door.

Logan followed you.

“Princess–”

The door slammed in his face, and he stood there for a good five minutes, restraining himself from knocking it down, before he relented and made his way back to his own room. 

He’d confront you tomorrow (later today), when you were sober.

—-

On the other side of the door, you were thinking of packing your bags and moving to South America. You needed a continent between you and Logan. How in the world had you allowed yourself to give in to a drunken urge that manifested the late night thoughts that you’d had for months? 

You were slipping. Bad.

You absolutely could not face him the next day. You leaned against the door, relieved when you heard him leave, and touched your lips. They still felt as if they were swollen from the kiss. 

You were sobering up now, remembering it. But just a few minutes ago that dare was all you needed to immediately lock your lips onto his. 

You also remembered the way he’d pulled away in shock and stared at your mouth for a beat before he grabbed your hair, pulled you close again, and kissed you so good that your toes curled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! Fuck my life!”

You were losing control. And that was not good. Not good at all.

—

Logan couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

And that pissed him off.

He lay in bed, and thought about how, (if he could die) under penalty of death he would never admit just how often he thought about you.

He’d been glad for the room at your place that came with the job; bunking with Wade and Althea was getting real old, real fast. 

But suddenly this arrangement felt too close for comfort.

You didn’t need to know about the fact that the movie playing behind his closed eyelids during his little shower workouts every night was your sexy smile, or the way your ass filled out your jeans. Especially those black ones.

And when he thought about you wearing those jeans with that wrap around shirt that showcased your tits just right. Well, fuck. He’d have gallons of cum for the shower drain.

Nah, you knowing that would only stroke your ego. Somehow, his mind drifted to the other things of yours that needed stroking.

“Oh, Fuck all!”

He sat up and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cigar, reason number 634 why you hated him. 

But if you hated him so much, then why did you kiss him tonight?

—---

Why did you do it? You didn’t even like Logan. In fact you hated him.

Right?

You loathed the way he called you Princess, an obvious reminder that you were a trust fund baby, although you were far from a child, and to spite the fact that you were trying to make your own way.

You hated him from the top of his ridiculous thick hair, to the soles of his huge shit-kicker boot clad feet. You hated how tall and how ripped he was, the way his arm veins threaded atop the muscles there and led the way to his thick, calloused fingers that felt so nice against your skin.

You hated the chest hair that poked out from the top of the tacky tank tops and flannel shirts he always wore underneath the ever present leather jacket, and the way his blue jeans showcased the muscles in his thighs. 

And you absolutely NEVER accidentally gazed at his crotch and ascertained that he was packing.

That would be asinine.

And his stupid face. That was the kicker. Logan’s face would be handsome if he didn’t wear that ridiculous smirk all the time on that mouth that might look nice if he was normal. 

The mouth that felt nice against yours. 

That might feel nice against your…

You groaned around your toothbrush and rolled your eyes at yourself, fully sober now after a quick cold shower. But somehow your body was still warm and buzzing.

What the fuck had you done?

— 

Logan didn’t even like you.

You were bossy, irritating, loud. 

Fuck, you were loud, always chattering away to your customers, always smiling and making them feel at home. 

He absolutely loathed the way you were trying to make your own living, despite the fact that your father was loaded. Running a food truck with the best tacos in town drew hundreds of people every day and giving away a portion of your food to the unhoused every night was what irritated Logan the most. 

More people to watch.

He was sure you did it to surround him with more people to hate. He just knew that you liked pushing his buttons. 

You just reveled in being the anti-Logan.

The more he glared, the more you glowed. 

On fucking purpose.

The kicker was you cranking up the karaoke machine on Thursday nights and belting it out to Journey or REO Speedwagon. It was so annoying. 

Especially the way you closed your eyes and swayed to the music during the bridge. The happy look on your face wasn’t beautiful at all, it was simple, and he didn’t memorize every curve of your face because it was a dumb one.

He couldn’t get away, because he had three months left on the security contract your father signed with him.

It was unfortunate, because you just wouldn’t shut up.

Except when his tongue was in your mouth.

No. 

Even then, you made noises. 

Those delicious little moans that vibrated down his spine and made his dick harder with every second. Moans that made him see visions of your mouth wrapped around his cock. Moans that gave him a waking dream of you giving him head, and…

Fuck, now Logan had a raging hard on and could not sleep for the life of him. 

He really did not like you.

—--

Kissing Logan had you in a tailspin. 

You punched your pillow as you tossed and turned in bed and conjured positive thoughts.

You could forget this.

Pretend it never happened.

Convince yourself that he didn’t taste like heaven and hell and the best fucking thing in a long time.

You could forget.

It was fine.

Everything was just fucking fine. 

All you had to do was completely forget the way he made you feel when he slid his tongue into your mouth. It was easy. 

Except you were wet as fuck. 

“Listen, bitch. You are not doing me any favors right now,” you mumbled to your cunt. 

She didn't care. 

Your pussy just continued to clench on air as if to say, “He’s right down the hall. Let’s just go finish what we started.”

You groaned and tried to smother yourself with your pillow.

It didn’t work.

—-

Logan just kept thinking of the way you stared at him between kisses. Lips parted on a gasp, plump and soft, right before he'd slipped his hand on your neck and kissed you again. Now your taste haunted him.

Logan huffed and put his head in his hands. Flashes of the kiss played like a movie in his head. Finally, he stood up and went to his door, ready to settle this once and for all.

When he opened it, there you were, in just a black camisole and panties, and god, did he want you.

But there was your mouth again.

“I fucking hate you.”

The problem with that was, he could smell you. You might be saying that you hated him, but your body was calling him right now. And Logan’s knees were weak at the power of his lust.

When you looked him in the eye, you licked your lips, your eyes dilated, your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, and your pussy weeping for him, Logan knew it was the end of the line of his self-restraint.

You smelled delicious, like your mandarin orange body wash and your wet-for-him cunt. 

He stepped toward you and you slapped his face, leaving him with a grin on his face.

Then you slapped him again.

“You got it out of your system now? That anger?”

He cocked that damned eyebrow at you and moved even closer. 

“Or is it frustration?”

——

You were in trouble now.

Not because you were scared Logan was going to hurt you.

Just the opposite.

Logan dipped his head to smell at your pulse point, body so close, but never touching you. Your arms went to grab his impossible shoulders and that's when his huge paws grabbed your hips, dragging you further into his room as he backed toward his bed.

He was full on nuzzling your neck now, and your eyes were rolling as the tension between you two was finally ebbing.

The words came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking angry that you get me so frustrated, you ass..”

You were turning your head toward his, wanting his lips again, on his lap now, crotch sat on his unbuttoned jeans, and refusing to move to ignite the fire.

Logan grunted at you.

“I see that. You’re trying to stare me down even though you are leaking all over me.”

Your body clenched and got wetter at the naming of that fact. You were terrified of what might happen next.

Yet you wanted it so badly.

——

Logan couldn’t wait any more.

He removed one hand from gripping the flesh at your hips that he’d fantasized about for months, to trailing up your cheek to your hair to take off your scarf.

His fingers were in your hair again and your eyelids stuttered as you mouth dropped open for air.

That made him so fucking hard. And it made him want to kiss you again.

He had to know.

“What are you here for, Princess?”

——

His sexy whisper would do you in.

For good.

“I don’t know.”

Logan was staring at you like you were the treasure chest at the end of a quest as you tried to remain as still as possible on his lap. It was so hard.

Logan was so hard beneath you.

“Oh? Let’s run it back to earlier when you weren’t letting that big brain of yours get in the way.”

Frustration surged within you and your mouth got reckless.

“Stop yapping and just do it already.”

——-

“There’s my girl,” Logan growled at you as his dick responded to the challenge and his eyes flashed at your tone.

“Always busting my balls, aren’t you? Need to give that smart mouth something else to do.” 

Before you could reply, Logan’s lips covered yours so perfectly that it was like magnetic puzzle pieces. You fit together and locked. 

Logan’s tongue traced your lower lip and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling, gently at first and then nipping more harshly, causing a gasp and enabling entry. His tongue swiped at yours as he dominated you.

You were not going to win this round.

——

You could only whimper and grab his shoulders tighter as he kissed you. For all that was holy, why did his kisses have to be so damn good?

One of your hands ventured into the thick hair you’d dreamt of feeling between your fingertips and pulled as your desire peaked. Then your palms went to his face as he pulled away and you squirmed as you realized what was about to happen. 

“What are you here for, Princess?”

That question again.

That voice. It rumbled straight to your core and Logan wasn’t letting you off the hook. 

Logan wasn’t letting you up off of him. 

The hardness of his metal button and zipper, but mostly him (oh god he was huge) chaffed your thighs as he sealed his lips over yours again and his hand went from your scalp down your neck and back to your hip again, holding you down to feel him.

You finally moved, smearing your wetness all over your panties and his jeans and Jesus, it felt so good.

——

Logan’s eyes took in all of you in your scanty clothing, following your every movement and when his eyes moved down to your damp panties he swallowed audibly. He clenched his jaw with the strain of holding back.

Logan couldn’t deny that he wanted you. His 200 year old heart felt brand new.

“Mmmmph. Here for this feeling Logan.” 

Your voice was the greatest symphony. His stomach clenched when you looked him in the eye.

“I’m here for you.”

You leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, then whispered a demand in his ear.

“Touch me, Logan.”

Without thinking, but instinctively careful of you, Logan’s claws extended, shredding the sides of your panties and rendering them in pieces. 

“Fuck!”

You gasped as he stood up with you in his retracted grip and threw you on the bed, the scraps of your underwear abandoning you.

He couldn’t stand it anymore, he was so weak for you. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed as he ran his rough hands up and down your legs.

——-

“I’m touching you, now what?”

He spoke to you, but he was looking at the juncture of your thighs, at the well-manicured hair there, all casual, as if he weren’t teasing the hell out of you.

You had something for him.

“If you don’t know what to do, then I’ll show you.”

You reached up and took off your camisole and Logan’s eyes raked upwards and widened at the sight of what you were holding, which was your breast in one hand, as you pinched and rolled your own nipple. Your other hand trailed down your body as your legs fell open to give yourself access to your clit, which you had the nerve to play with in front of Logan’s face. 

——

Now he was the one who was angry.

Logan snarled, then batted your hand away.

“Careful Princess. Don’t poke the Wolverine.”

His hands tightened on your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was.

———

Logan leaned down, his hot breath ghosting your pussy as he looked up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. 

You couldn’t let the moment get too tender.

“What if the Wolverine wants to poke–”

Logan’s hand covered your mouth, cutting you off at just the moment he licked a long, hot, wet stripe up the center of you and then pursed his lips around your clit to suck at you ruthlessly.

Your smart ass remark was forgotten as a moan bubbled up into your throat. Logan took his hand away once it was clear that you couldn’t talk anymore, or at least that your capacity for sass had diminished. 

You were leaning up on your elbow and watching him feast on you, convulsing with each swipe of his broad tongue and each pull on your clit.

As mesmerized as you were at his skill, you managed to brush his thick dark hair away from his eyes so that he could see properly. You didn’t want anything getting in the way of the best head you’d ever received.

——-

Logan’s hands were now palming the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; you were practically sitting on his fingers. For him, you tasted even better than you smelled. He couldn’t believe it.

He looked up at you incredulously, watching your breasts moving with each heave of your lungs trying to capture air, and your mouth open to capture it. He met your eyes and frowned at you as he reached down and stroked his pulsing cock.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fucking Cuties you eat all day long. They got you tasting like a fucking orange. ‘S fucking impossible.”

He yanked you closer and buried his face between your legs. You made those cute little noises with every swipe of his tongue, and he licked and sucked until you convulsed in his hands, screaming.

You were still trying to catch your breath before he was on you, licking and suckling your hard and soft breasts.

“Damn,” you murmured as Logan swiped his thick, bulbous head into your entrance and meeting resistance, “You’re so fucking huge Logan.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that phrase, but coming from you it hit different. His chest puffed with pride.

Logn smiled into your neck, inhaling your scent and growling against your skin.

“Don’t be scared, Princess. I’ll make it feel good for you. I should be more worried than you are. I’m gonna split you open, but you are about to shatter me into a thousand pieces.”

He didn't mean to tell you the absolute truth. But he had.

Logan knew there was no coming back from this for him.

——

You shuddered at the words which were breathed over your skin.

Logan trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of your neck the looked you in the eye. It was too much.

You lowered your gaze and he chuckled, making you sigh when he tugged on your lobe with his teeth and started pushing inside you. It was slow, but sensual and somehow still desperate. 

With each increment of himself that he gave you, you felt destroyed, yet you wanted more. You clutched at his chest as you widened your legs for him, as if that would help.

“No one else has ever made me feel this way. Hurts so good, Logan. More. Please?”

The question was, were you just talking about his penis?

——-

You begging him made Logan want to cry as he slipped further inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both shuddered, you at the sensation of such fullness, and him at the way you were so snugly and warmly wrapped around him.

“Fuck! Princess. Should have known you would be hot and tight. But I wasn’t ready.”

Logan wasn’t ready for you at all.

—-

His pupils were completely blown and the look on Logan’s face made you clench down even tighter as he stroked deeper into you. 

“Y-yess, feels so good.” 

You felt like liquid in his arms. Your hands moved over his shoulders as you hitched your thigh around his hips. He ran his hand up your thigh and around to your leg, holding you in place as he began to pound into you harder.

You whispered a confession into his ear.

“I’ve dreamed about this so many times.” 

Logan lifted his head from watching his cock destroy you, his brow arched in surprise. 

“You’ve dreamt about me?” 

You bit your lip and nodded, all of a sudden feeling shy. 

“At night after a tense night between us, I’d go to my room and imagine that you’d follow me to…shut me up.”

Your lashes fanned your face as you smirked.

“Oh yeah?”

Logan swiveled his hips and you gasped. He was lighting you up from the inside.

“Sounds like a cool dream, Princess,” he said, leaning down to your ear.

“But you’re talking far too much in reality.”

And he began snapping his hips at a frenzied pace, causing your back to arch and your mouth to fall open, leaving you moaning until you screamed with your orgasm.

You couldn’t talk; hell you couldn’t even think when he was going like this.

——

At this point, there was no more finesse; Logan was stroking in and out of you, almost completely leaving you and reentering just to feel that sensation again. The way his fat cockhead breached you was like no other feeling in the world.

Your arched back was displaying your breasts to him at a perfect angle. It inspired something within him.

“Look at you Princess. All gorgeous and fucked out and taking this cock for me. All dumb now. Bet you like not having to think so much. Just take it like the good little slut you are for me, yeah?”

His filthy commentary made the coil in your belly snap, and you came like a freight train, squeezing him so much that he had pull out to keep from coming himself.

He kissed you as you could only whimper in protest. Logan felt a warmth blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if at all, as you lay melted in his arms.

He couldn’t wait to be back inside you.

“Can’t tell you how many times I dreamt about having you under me just… like… this….”

And he slid back home.

“Mmm… those lips down there suck my tip so well, how will these lips do?”

Logan’s thick thumb was in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it to show him what your mouth could do. He groaned and pried your mouth open with his hand.

“Keep it open and do what I say.”

——-

The band was tightening in your belly again. You knew what was coming and nearly came again when Logan spit into your mouth. The orgasms were blending together now.

“Swallow.”

You did, and Logan thrust into you hard an deep while thrumming your clit. That was all it took for you to cum again and this time, you gushed around him, making a mess on his bed.

He looked down in disbelief and laughed with glee, handling you like a fuck doll to do with as he pleased.

That's when you realized that you loved being used by him.

“Bet ya didn’t dream you’d be such a dirty little slut for me, did ya, Princess?”

——

Logan realized that he was your slut, too. He was lost to your sounds, the sight of your beautiful lust drunk face, and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with multiple orgasms now.

He started tracing urgent circles on your clit again.

“Look at me.”

That’s when you said the most beautiful words to him.

“So fucking good L-Logan. Cum inside me. Please. ‘M on the pill.”

“Music to… my fucking.. ears….”

——

Logan’s fingers moved to your shoulders, holding you captive as he stroked deeper and harder. His harsh breaths in your ear increased, the most erotic sound in the world.

You clamped down on him and he growled, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, the warm wave of fluid combing and causing a lovely, filthy mess.

It was so satisfying.

And you couldn’t let it lie.

——

He pulled out and stared at the ceiling in disbelief, before looking over at you to find you playing in his cum and licking your fingers, leaning over to give him a taste on your lips.

“What? You tired, Old Man?”

He shook his head and laughed as his cock came back to life.

Kissing you back had been the biggest mistake of his life.

He was never going to get you out of his system.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

-----

You shivered as Logan loomed over you, with that damned eyebrow cocked and that smirk on his face.

“Oh Princess. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Then Logan grabbed you and kissed you again.

——

Reblog if you enjoyed it! 🥰

[oceantornadoo]

betrayal (simon riley x f!reader)

in the same universe as two lieutenants

--

"what the fuck, simon."

you slammed down a stack of papers on his desk. he tilted his head up, eyes moving fast as they read what was in front of him. leaning back, he crossed his arms and spread his legs in his desk chair, the picture of composure. "use your words, lieutenant."

you scoffed, unbelieving. "i put in a transfer and you deny it? we're the same rank, you shouldn't even be able to do that." he shrugged, eyes darting away. guilty. "don't know what yer talkin' about. same rank, remember?" you rolled your eyes, feet starting to pace his office floor out of anger. "i thought we were friends, simon." you stopped, the hurt swelling into your words. all your emotions hit at once. betrayal. sadness. you thought he'd be different. "and- and then i see this?" you swiped a hand angrily at your eyes, wiping away the tears before they formed. "what, you just want to hold me back? i want to be a captain and i can't be one on this team. you know that."

he knew that because of late nights in his room over tea, sharing deep secrets. you on his bed, him in his extra chair, whispers exchanged in the dark of the night. the trust you put into your fellow lieutenant was unimaginable, the weight of it immeasurable. your foolish mistake had come to bite you in the ass.

"dove, 's not what you-"

"don't you dare call me that." your finger up against his chest, accusing. his nickname for you too hurtful for you to hear right now. "lovie, let me explain i-" you turned around, heading for the door. done with this bullshit.

and then suddenly you were up against the door, simon's masked hand covering your mouth. he wasn't even breathing hard, the exertion barely making a dent in his stamina. he towered over you, eyes shining through his eyeblack and his simple black balaclava. the thumb of his hand covering your mouth brushed your jaw, a soothing motion to calm you down. "gonna be a good girl and listen?" his thigh was wedged in between your legs, mostly to keep you from bolting, but he used it to emphasize his words. you felt wetness pool in your underwear, your body betraying your mind. you rolled your eyes, but after seeing his facial expression not change, you finally nodded. he took his hand off your mouth, brushing your cheek before leaving it, his thigh forgotten between your legs.

"i denied it 'cause i'm a selfish bastard." your eyes widened in shock. confusion. were you right? "i just-" he took a breath, hand reaching to run through his hair before realizing he had his mask on. he yanked it off, throwing it to the side.

"i just wanted you to myself, ok? heard the team you applied for was gonna go dark for years in russia in an undercover op. and i can't-" his eyes seared into yours, both sets of pupils dilating in the moment. you understood.

"you won't lose me, simon." you reached your hand to run it through his hair, dirty blond strands easily passing through. you both stood there for a moment, taking comfort in the fact that this thing you two had was finally being addressed.

"i can't. after everythin', it's jus- not you too. can't lose you, dove." his masked hands cradled your face, glad your physical friendship boundaries were finally being crossed. you gave him a sad smile.

"i know you want captain. i asked 'round and there's other teams open. closer. was gonna tell you this afternoon but got interrupted." by you, choosing to believe he was like all the men before, who wanted to make you small so they felt big. by you, choosing to protect yourself first, not in the wrong but not optimistic either.

"ugh, you're the worst." fuck, had he gotten in wrong? this whole thing wasn't what he'd planned. the whole confession wasn't in the cards, and now he was paying for it. except-

except you were pulling him in for a hug, standing on your tippy toes so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. his hands immediately rested on your waist, the feel of it so foreign and yet so right. this was the first time you'd ever embraced him like this, so open and emotional. he memorized the feel of you in his arms, just in case, always just in case, then let himself live in the moment. he dug his face into the crook of your neck, sniffing the scent of your contraband shampoo, the scent that chased him in his dreams and nightmares. his thumbs caressed your skin, drawing circles into your waist.

"yer it for me, you know? you see it now? but if you need to choose between me and captain, i get it." he waited for your answer with bated breath, squeezing you tighter in case you turned him down. in case it was his last chance.

you answered with a peck to the side of his head, making simon all warm and fuzzy inside. "you're mine too, idiot. i can still make captain without going to russia." finally, he relaxed. the hug had gone on for longer than necessary at this point, but he didn't want to let you go. slowly, you pulled back, making eye contact. "so when are you taking me out on a real date?"

--

this is for the girlies guys and pals who have always had to feel like they had to choose between a man and a career. with the right man, you deserve both! (i wouldn't know i'm just a hopeless romantic trapped in a college town but i'm trusting what the books say.)

[okiedokrie]

Dress

Summary: Watching your best friend get hot was a struggle, him not fucking you was harder.

Characters/Pairing: Best Friend!Lee Chan (Dino) x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, porn without plot there is some if you squint

AU/Trope Info: Best Friends to Fucking, College AU

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Jealousy, some threats of body harm to self and to others mentioned, smut warnings under the cut

A/N: tagging @bitchlessdino and @the-boy-meets-evil as the main enablers of chan porn, thank you to @wonuvs for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, marking, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

Silence. Patience, pining, and anticipation. You think you might be going insane with how hard you're holding back from exploding in his face. You watch your best friend, Chan, talk to a girl, who in your opinion is too into whatever he's saying.

Like, okay, he's funny. But he's not squeeze his arm and throw your head back funny.

You're convinced if you stare hard enough you'll be able to burn a hole through the skull of this- objectively pretty- girl. Yeah, you can't get too jealous because she's gorgeous and you would've probably hated Chan if he fumbled her.

Still, that doesn't quench the burning hot jealousy you feel. The fire burning in your stomach being the catalyst for the events that followed that party. The unmistakable, ugly, green head of pure jealousy.

Chan, with his stupidly sculpted face that you've watched mature over the years, his perfect long black hair, his muscles pressing against his shirt, leather jacket, sittable nose-

You just think it's unfair how hot Chan has gotten and he still hasn't thought of fucking you. This isn't fair at all.

Just as you were about to successfully finish off the poor girl in various different ways, Chan finally noticed you stewing in your own envy; hands almost shaking from how hard you were holding back from him.

Chan excuses himself from the girl, much to your relief, to finally join your side again.

“Hey babe, you holding good here?” He says, with that signature, annoyingly charming, dopey smile of his.

“Chan, not gonna lie, I'm gonna fucking kill myself if you don't fuck me right now.” 

If Chan was surprised at your sudden horny outburst, he didn't show it. Ever the giver he is, he gives you one last dopey grin before leaning in to catch your lips in a searing kiss.

The force of the kiss caused you to drop the cup you were nursing, the warm beer spilling and soaking into the carpet, but you didn’t care—that was going to be Soonyoung's problem.

Your hands snake up from his firm chest tothe back of his neck, using it as leverage to pull yourself up to his height while pressing him to you.

You both separate from the kiss after remembering that you are, in fact, in public.

“Fuck, get me upstairs now.” You almost said in a whine, desperately clinging onto Chan like your life depended on it—and franky, it actually does.

He just giggles while gently guiding you upstairs to his room, a hand on your lower back while he guides you up the stairs. Entering his room, he stops to call for you,

“Y/n.” 

Your name on his lips made the world stop for a second. It was something simple—he's said it a thousand times—yet, the way he says it now makes you not want him as a best friend. Your name felt like a sleeper agent phrase that awakened a different level of horny in you that you didn’t think was possible.

Instead of replying, you opted to keep kissing him: his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, everywhere your lips could reach.

He falls onto the bed with a soft rustling noise from the sheets, and climbing on top of him, you greedily grind your clothed cunt on his hardening cock under his jeans. 

“Oh fuck, don't do that, not in that dress. I'm gonna cum like in my pants like a loser.” He smiles at you, nose wrinkling in a light-hearted grimace. 

“Oh, Channie,” you started, “I only got this dress so you could take it off.” 

A pathetic moan leaves him, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips jump, his hard cock pressing onto you.

Your lips meet his again. He swallows your sighs of content when his bulge bumps against your throbbing clit, his hands running up your thighs, hot palms dragging up the length of them under the fabric of your dress.

Grabbing handfuls of your ass, Chan keeps the pace as you continue to grind on him, swallowing each other's noises of desperation. 

Chan holds you close to him as he flips you both over, rolling you on your back, his lips reluctantly detaching from yours to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your throat, letting out quiet moans at the taste of it.

Sucking on a specific spot on your neck, Chan's fingers hook on the straps of your dress to shimmy it off of you,  causing a shiver to run down your spine. Now, almost naked in front of him, you paw at his clothes. He pants as he shrugs off his jacket and takes his shirt off, your bare chests pressing against each other's as your lips meet for another feverish kiss.

“Chan, get naked quicker, please- I– I need you inside me so badly.” You whimpered, not caring if you seemed too needy because soon after, Chan's jeans and boxers are on the floor, and his hard cock slaps on his abs, his tip red, angry, leaking for you. Just looking at it, you’re convinced that thing could easily reach up to your throat. 

Ripping your panties off, Chan gets on top of you. “Fuck, you're so wet, lemme hit, babe.” Laughing, you give him the go ahead. Then, his lips are on yours, kissing you as a very large cock tries to split you open.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the satisfying burn of his cock occupying all of your thoughts, successfully dicknotizing you.

Chan wastes no time to set a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass while his pelvis deliciously hits your clit. Clawing at his sheets, you let out loud, unashamed moans, not caring if someone at the relatively calm frat party downstairs heard you.

“Fuck, do you know how long I've dreamt of this? Finally getting to fuck this pussy like it's mine? Are you mine, babe?” Chan babbled, pussy drunk and distracted by your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts.

You're no better than him, already so out of it that you can’t even process the filthy confessions leaving Chan's mouth. Licking your lips, you tilt your head up to suck marks into his skin, burgundy bruises soon blooming as his hips stutter. 

The desperate slapping sounds of your groins meeting shift to shallow ones as you both near your climaxes, Chan letting out precious little gasps and cut-off moans with every thrust.

Not doing any better than him, you whine, dragging your nails down his back, angry red lines appearing on his skin at their wake.

Then, your highs hit you at the same time, white hot pleasure seeping into your bones and boiling under your skin, ears ringing and vision blurring. With a gasp, Chan spills his load deep inside your gummy walls, making your cunt clench around him, sticking to him like a second skin.

Still in that post-orgasm bliss, Chan's hips don't stop moving. stretching your pussy with his cock over and over again, making you both dizzily cling to each other, bodies shivering, mouths drinking in the other's whimpers.

Chan was rutting his hips into yours like he'd perish if he stopped, both of you cringing from over stimulation, Chan sobbing about how good being inside of you felt. Even after just orgasming not 10 seconds ago, he's still hard and desperate to dump another load into you.

You're not sure if your night would end, even after the 4th time he made you cum.

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.

Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.

Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.

When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.

The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.

And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.

If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.

It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.

It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.

And it's suffocating.

Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.

Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.

Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.

And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.

I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)

Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.

You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.

And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.

[allpiesforourown]

Hello..If you don't mind, can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from SVSSS? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series?

Also, if you don't mind me asking (again), what do you think are Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe's greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Sorry if you've answered these questions before.....

Okay that would take FOREVER so I'll just do my top 5 fav characters and my fav scenes with them

5. Ning Yingying - she's sooo silly... it was so wonderful being introduced to her and seeing her as a dumb airhead who unknowingly gets people in trouble (the pendant incident) and watching her overtime become someone responsible.

OKAYYYY QUEEN i just know she would run Qing Jing peak like it's the navy.. Also very important to me that although she gets serious when the time calls for it, her personality still has remnants of that silly girl we were first introduced to (for example during the return to childhood extra where she assumes a grown ass child is Shen Yuan's baby)

4. Original Luo Binghe

i could spend HOURS talking about how tragic his life was but honestly my reason for liking him as a character is really simple. He gets horny for people who are nice

The fact that he knew the original goods for YEARS and then Shen Yuan gave him cuddles and Bingge went "wait actually Shen Qingqiu is kind of hot??" Real as fuck . I just know after he returned to his world it was like

Bingge: you would be sexier if you were sweet and kind

Sha Hualing: im sorry do you KNOW who you're asking this of

3. Shang Qinghua is... way too real. I feel like everyone can relate to him, especially with how terrible the world is right now. He can't do anything to go against the plot he himself wrote. He's the painful mixure of "if only I had done that differently" and "I can't do anything at all" that everyone experiences.

Moments like this, such as Shang Qinghua interrupting Bingqiu's honeymoon really make his character even more tragic. Without Mobei-Jun, he doesn't really have a place to go... he didn't take the offer to return to his homeworld because there was no one waiting for him there. Even when he's having dinner with his friend, he knows he can't ask for more because sticking around would annoy Binghe. Just kind of wandering around alone and seeing other people be happy together and have a place to go sucks ://

2. My second favourite scene and my second favourite character: Luo Binghe

This scene really made me love SVSSS because it's so rare to find media where characters are actually allowed to be human and insecure. Like I know we call Binghe manipulative and toxic (and he is!) but EVERYONE has at some point in their life felt like they hate them self and no one loves them.

The fact that Luo Binghe has these emotions and they're relevant to the plot is so special to me. It's so disillusioning when a character goes through trauma after trauma and it's never talked about. Binghe going "shizun I hate myself and I want to end the world about it" was just.. *chef's kiss*

My favourite scene byfar: Shen Yuan hugging Binghe in Shen Jiu's memories

I think this was the final nail in the coffin for making me love Shen Yuan.

For all that he insists, "I'm just farming points so the protagonist won't kill me!" when he's put in a situation like this, he's more loving than ever. He can't touch Binghe, but all he wants to do is wipe his tears. It pains him so much to see his dear disciple hurt and vulnerable that he can't do anything but kneel down and try to hug an image of the past. He knows Binghe can't hear him but still tries to comfort him.

"Shizun will never hit you again." is a line that absolutely makes me go crazy, because Shen Yuan was never the one who hit Binghe, that was the original goods. He doesn't care if Binghe knows that it wasn't him who hurt him. All he cares about is making sure Binghe knows it will never happen again, and that Shen Yuan will love and protect him.

Shen Yuan tries so sooo hard to come across as a "reasonable" character but he can't hide how sentimental and emotional he is. He'll complain about how the characters in PIDW don't use their brain, but then you show him a memory of a crying child and say "this happened in the past and there's nothing you can do about it" and he'll still try to hug that child and tell them to stop crying and that they'll be okay. God I love Shen Yuan