#I know there’s a more digestible way to watch it so you only watch the important arcs but the ‘One Pace’ guides I’ve seen always confused m

[lesbianusahana]

Last night there was a pretty big internet outage (at least in my house) so to keep myself from going stark raving mad with boredom I decided to reread some of the One Piece manga I had lying around. If Luffy ends up back on my F/O list don’t be surprised

[drfrankendyke]

My summer reading list, in order.

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.

[indecisivemuch]

The Pact

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).

Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.

Word count: 3.4k

You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.

Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 

Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.

Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 

To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.

“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.

“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”

“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”

“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 

Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 

“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”

“Why?” Luke questioned.

“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”

Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.

Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.

“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”

“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”

A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.

“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 

Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 

“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.

A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’

“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.

“Deal.”

Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.

During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.

“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.

Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.

Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 

Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.

However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.

The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.

However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.

You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 

You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.

“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.

“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.

With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 

“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.

“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”

“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 

“...No, but—”

“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”

“Show up to what?”

“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”

“Where did he leave the note?”

“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”

“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 

Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 

“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.

“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.

“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.

“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.

That was when everything made sense.

“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.

“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 

You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 

“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”

Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.

“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?

So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.

All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.

“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.

However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?

“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.

“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”

You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.

“I want you.”

And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.

“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”

“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.

“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.

“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.

Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 

“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.

“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.

Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 

Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:

Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).

Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).

Step 3. Confess (tick).

Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).

-------------------------

masterlist

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[rainydayathogwarts]

We're all adults here - Steve Rogers

Summary: Reader covers up when training outside with the team because someone just happened to cover her in hickies the night before. But what happens when reader is forced to take her cover-up off? 0.6k+ wc

Going outside in the summer heat to practice with the team was not what you had in mind, especially when the modern indoor training facilities were all available, with a track just as big, and more importantly, air conditioning that worked perfectly well. Normally, you wouldn't have a problem with it, putting on shorts and a sports bra before joining Natasha outside, but usually, your boyfriend didn't go so crazy in bed the night before. Steve, ever so worked up after not seeing you for a few days while on a mission, had come home, making a beeline to your room where he finally pushed you up against the wall, pressing kisses on every inch of your skin before taking you on every piece of furniture he could find.

You felt Steve's guilty gaze on you the second you met with the rest of the team outside, clad in a thin sports jacket and shorts. At least you looked cute, despite how quickly you were going to overheat. "Oh you're crazy crazy." Comments Natasha the instance she sees you, beginning her warmup around the track. You quickly join her, rolling your eyes playfully at her, though it's hard to ignore the way you immediately feel the way the long sleeves are clinging onto your skin the second you start to perspire.

By the end of your laps on the track, your face is all red and you need to lean on your knees to catch your breath, panting heavily. You didn't think one little piece of clothing would have such an effect on your performance, but apparently it did, making you fan your hands in front of your face in hopes of helping with the heat. "Y/n just take it off, what's going on?" Remarks Clint bemusedly. "Yeah we all know it's too hot for this kind of clothing. Is there a particular reason you're so dressed up?" You put your hands on your hips, chest heaving up and down as you digest Bucky's question. You shake your head, gratefully accepting the cool bottle of water your boyfriend offers you, a guilty grimace on his face.

Steve's cheeks are flushed pink, and whether that's due to the warmup or how close you guys are to being found out, he doesn't know. The team have known about the two of you before you even knew, clueless about the other's feelings, but Steve, being the old soul that he is, prefers to keep details about your sex life private when possible. "Does Mr. Loverboy have anything to do with this?" Teases Tony, only half-joking, hints of a smile on his face. You scoff, which immediately has your teammates looking at you quizzically. Did Mr. Loverboy have anything to do with it? "Okay Y/N, on a serious note, you're going to overheat training in that." Tony adds, his eyebrows furrowing. "Look, we're all adults here." You defend, spinning away from your team as your hand hesitantly reaches up to drag the zipper of your jacket down your torso. When you turn back around, the rest of your team is still staring expectantly at you, leaving you to watch as their reactions form on their faces.

"Holy shit!" Clint exclaims, words drowned by the loud wolf-whistles Natasha sends you way, eyes glued to your chest. "Okay, stop looking!" You scold her, and Bucky immediately looks away from you even though the words aren't directed at him, slapping a hand on the back of Steve's shoulder in pride. The dark hickies are scattered all around your chest and neck, dipping under your sports bra, leaving the rest for imagination. You chuckle uncomfortably, tightening your ponytail "Wild night, am I right?" You hear Steve choke over his drink before you see it, spinning around to take a look at his red face, water dribbling down his chin and onto his tight shirt as he catches his breath. "Sorry sweetheart." You mutter, taking a step towards him so you can press a kiss on his cheek, his hand instinctively coming up to rest on your waist.

"Why are you apologising to him? Look at yourself!"

[seospicybin]

TEST DRIVE.

#2

Changbin x reader. (s)

Chapters: #1 / #3

Synopsis: You're going on another test drive with your biker boyfriend, Changbin. (7k words)

Author's note: This is for the birthday boy, Changbin and to all the biker!Bin enthusiasts!

The sun isn't high in the sky yet but you're already on the road, riding on Changbin's bike as he spurs the engine and pushing it just a little closer to the limit.

You feel snug as you rest your chest on his back, he feels so warm even though he's only wearing a t-shirt and that's because you're wearing his jacket as usual.

To keep him warm, you give him belly rubs as you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Who's taking a girl out for a ride at 6 in the morning, huh?" You tease him.

Changbin pretends not to hear it and you nuzzle your head as close as possible to his neck even though the helmets are restricting you.

"I'm going back to sleep," you mutter.

He grabs your hand and shakes it, "No, don't sleep! Wake up!"

You hold him tighter and cling to his back with your arms around him, "I can sleep comfortably right here," you mumble.

He places his hand on yours and laces it with yours, "We'll be getting coffee soon," he persuades.

As much as you want to sleep, it's dangerous to sleep while riding on the back of the bike. You turn your head to the side, enjoying the morning view.

"The weather is nice though," you delightfully sigh at the picturesque sight of the rising sun, "look at the sunrise!"

Changbin glances away to see the sunrise on his right then looks straight ahead again, "I wish the traffic is like this every day," he adds.

"That's true," you agree with him as the street is almost empty except for a couple of cars passing by.

The ride isn't a spur-of-the-moment decision, it was planned a week ago. Changbin said he wanted to go to this bike meet in the next town over but the event isn't until the afternoon so he suggested that the two of you take an early ride and enjoy the town in the morning.

"Should I take that exit?" He asks you out of the blue.

If you have to be honest, you don't really care where he takes you, you simply love riding on the back and clinging to him or as in Changbin's words: being his backpack.

"I don't know," you answer with a perplexed look.

"No, we're going the right way," he says, confirming his own question.

The town is nothing like the city you live in and since it's only 8 in the morning, it's rather quiet. Changbin drives slowly while turning his head side to side to find someplace to have breakfast and more importantly, coffee.

After a few minutes of driving around the area, he finally found a diner and parked his bike right outside. You feel rejuvenated the second you have the first sip of coffee and have some hearty breakfast to go with it.

"I kind of want to eat the waffle too but I don't think I can finish my breakfast sandwich," you mumble in dilemma while chewing your food.

"Just order it. I'll finish it for you," Changbin offers as he sips his coffee.

You grin at him and waste no time to order it. He ends up not only finishing your breakfast sandwich but also the waffles.

With your stomach full, you decide to take some time for your body to digest it by taking a walk to the nearest park to enjoy another cup of iced coffee, enjoying the warm weather, looking at people with their pets, and watching the kids playing by the water fountain. You like how everyone is enjoying their day at the park.

When it gets to the middle of the day, the two of you walk back to the bike and you suddenly get the urge to try and practice riding the bike. Changbin has taught you several times and you deem that your driving is safe enough for a quick ride around the block.

"Can I ride?" You ask.

Changbin is putting his leather gloves on and your question makes his eyebrow raised in a mix of worry and surprise.

"Just around the neighborhood," you add.

It's not only your driving that worries him but also because he loves his bike so much which makes him reluctant to let someone else drive it. He takes a step back and looks at you, and you can see that he's considering it.

"Are you going to drop me?" He asks you.

"No," you assure him with a smile.

You don't wait for his permission to get on his bike and for the first time in a while, sit on the front. Before you get to do anything else, you turn on the engine and rev it up.

Once you deem that the engine is ready, you look over your shoulder at him and say, "Come on! Be my backpack!"

He hesitates but seeing that you're already on the bike, he relents. He walks to the back of the bike and puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," you answer, putting your hands on each side of the handle.

"Hold your feet very sturdy!" He reminds you while looking at your form.

"I got it," you say as you obey his words, planting your feet firmly on the asphalt to hold both the bike and your own weight, and soon, Changbin's weight too.

"Did you put the kickstand up?" He asks again.

"Yes," you confirm, it's the first thing you do after getting on the bike.

Changbin looks down to check it himself then nods, "Okay, alright, we're good."

You prepare yourself and grip the handles tightly, "Okay."

"Okay. Here we go," he sighs, signaling you that he's about to get on the bike. He puts both hands on your shoulders and swiftly, hoists himself up to get onto the bike.

He sighs as he settles himself on the back and puts his hands on each side of your waist, "Okay, we're doing it," he says with his voice slightly quivering.

You understand his worries and that's why you only plan on riding it slowly and only for a couple of blocks.

"Are you holding on good?" You ask again because you can feel how rigid he is behind you.

"Yes," he meekly answers.

Following every step Changbin taught you, you slowly let out the clutch lever until the bike starts to roll forward. Once the bike is moving, you start to accelerate slightly and then slowly, you pull your feet up onto the pegs.

You drive in a straight line to adjust yourself to it and also enjoy how it feels to ride a bike, and at the same time, ignoring how Changbin intensely watches your hands shifting the gears with his hands anxiously gripping the sides of your jacket.

You may not be as smooth at shifting gears as Changbin yet but you know your way around them now, when to pull the clutch or let go of the over etc.

"Be careful there's a turn up ahead," he warns you.

However, you still need a lot of practice on turning and it makes you a little panic. You keep your calm and try to apply what Changbin has taught you.

As you enter the turn, you slow down, release the throttle, keep your head up and lean with the bike.

"Oops!" You lowly gasp as the bike gets too close to the curb as you turn.

"Slow down," he reminds you, his hand gripping at your ribcage now.

You lose focus for a second and the bike jolts as you put the wrong combination to shift gears.

Changbin nervously laughs at that, "That was a hard shift," he comments.

"I'm sorry," you meekly say.

"That's okay," he softly says, his hand goes to the front and rests it on your stomach.

Since you still need to practice your turning, you decide to drive in a straight line, slow and steady, and after a while, you feel comfortable enough to pick up the speed.

"I like how this feels," you share with him.

"What?" Changbin asks with his big arm steadily wrapped around you.

"I like having a backpack," you say.

"You like having me as your backpack?"

"Yeah," you answer without shifting your eyes away from the road ahead.

You keep driving for another block and once you are at a stop, you keep the front brake engaged and then plant your feet firmly on the ground.

"Start with your left foot, then your right," you unconsciously mutter to yourself as you're doing it.

Changbin seems to hear it that he chuckles at it and then he lets out a big sigh of relief, wasting not another second to get off the bike while you stay on the bike, turning off the engine and putting the kickstand out.

Getting sweaty from the heat and nerves, you take off your helmet and air it out. You look at him and he looks like he just got off a roller coaster.

"So... how did you like it?" You ask with a low chuckle.

He also takes his helmet off and plants his hands on each side of his waist, "Uh... we did not die so that's something," he jokingly answers.

Well, you're not asking for a compliment but you expect him to, at least, appreciate your effort. You hide your disappointment, looking away and pretending to fix your hair.

Sensing that you're not pleased with his answer, he comes to the front and places his hand on your thigh.

He looks at you as he says, "That was good."

"Thanks, baby," you reply with a smile.

He feels the need to reassure you that he meant his words, he puts his hand under your chin and slowly leans in to kiss you ever so gently that it feels like a soft gust of wind brushing past your lips.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you and then puts his hands on your waist.

You put your hands around his shoulders and pull him close, "Why aren't you a touchy backpack?"

"Why am I not a touchy backpack?" He repeats your question.

"Mmh-hmm."

"Because I was scared for my life," he answers.

"You don't have to worry about that," you tell him.

"And why is that?"

You take his hand and take it inside your jacket, putting it on your clothed breast, "Cause you have two, nice airbags here," you say with a seductive smile.

He looks around, afraid that anyone is seeing this and he quickly draws his hand, getting flustered from doing a lewd act on a bright, sunny day.

He retracts his hand and puts it on your neck, using it to bring your head close so he can kiss you again, a little harder and deeper than the previous one.

The ride continues, Changbin takes the bike through the housing area where the houses share similar designs and are painted in almost the same color hues of pale pink and yellow. It almost feels like you're being transported to a different era.

"The houses are beautiful," you comment, "They're like from the 70s."

He lowers the speed to see the houses and nods, "They're beautiful," he says.

It becomes a normal thing to talk about random things on the road and you're comfortable sharing anything that crosses your head at that moment which you are rarely able to do with anyone before.

He's following the GPS that guides him to where the bike meet and as the bike stops at a red light, it's your time to get a little touchy with him.

You run your hands up his arms, feeling every inch of his skin that gets hot under the sun and gently squeeze his biceps, you can feel the muscles contract under your touch. You eventually take your hands to his shoulders and give him a massage.

He puts his hands off the handlebar and allows himself to relax from your slow yet deep massage.

"Oh, that's the spot," he moans in pleasure.

"You like that, huh?"

He doesn't answer but rests his back against your chest as you put your arms around him, letting you hold him until the lights turn green.

The bike meet is at a parking lot of the town's biggest park where it has a view of the big river that cuts through the town. Arriving there, so many people were already there and bikes filled almost half of the parking lot.

This will be your first time at a bike meet and you don't know what to do at an event like this so you plan on sticking close to Changbin.

"Am I good to get off?" You ask since he already found a spot to park his bike.

"Yes," he answers, planting his feet on the asphalt so you can climb off, and then he proceeds to park the bike on the available spot.

The day is hot so you waste no time to take your helmet off, fanning your neck as you start to get sweaty again.

"Babe, where you at?" Changbin asks, turning his head side to side looking for you.

You walk up to him while carrying the helmet in one hand, "I'm right here," you tell him with your hand touching his shoulder.

He grabs your hand while the other is busy unclasping the strap of his helmet, "It's so hot," he groans.

"Tell me about it!" You say as you keep fanning your sweaty neck.

Just like its name, the bike meet is where bikers come and meet the other bikers, they're hanging out and talking about none other than... bikes. As planned, you're sticking close to Changbin, walking hand in hand while admiring various models of bikes parked in a row.

"Look at that R6!" Changbin says while pointing at a bike.

You don't know what R6 is but you reckon it's the name of the bike model or engine, you have no idea so you just nod at him.

A bike catches his attention and Changbin comes up to the owner and strikes up a conversation with the owner. It's fascinating how the two of them converse about a lot of things even though they were strangers to each other a minute ago. You reckon maybe that's what happens when two people with the same hobbies meet each other.

"Do you want to try? Take a quick lap around the lot?" The owner offers while adjusting his sunglasses on his nose.

"Can I?" Changbin asks with a flustered smile.

"Yes. You can," the owner says, handing him the keys.

You understand that he's just so passionate about these things but you try not to laugh at how Changbin looks like he just got asked out by his crush. He looks smitten, he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

It's funny until Changbin forgot that you're there and only realized it when he saw you standing behind the bike and blinking your eyes at him.

"Do you want to take a ride?" He offers you.

"No, it's okay," you kindly refuse, "I'll just wait here."

Changbin looks like a kid on a Christmas morning as he gets on the bike, his grin doesn't wear off even for a second and he rubs his hands together before wrapping his hands around the handlebar.

"I'll see you in a minute," he says to you.

"Take your time," you say with a smile.

As he leaves for a test drive, the owner kindly takes you to someone's else truck not far from where you are where a group of people gathering there because someone is handing out free beers.

"Thank you," you mutter as someone hands you a cold can of beer.

You take shelter under the tree and take your jacket off as your skin gets sticky with sweat, then quietly sip your beer to quench your thirst.

Having nothing to do, you take your phone out and you check some notifications when a girl comes up and stands next to you.

"Hey, how are you doing?" She asks.

You look up from your phone to look at her because saying it back without looking seems impolite. Your first impression of her is that she has a strong presence, she has tattoos covering her both arms and a septum piercing, and she looks so cool that you feel a little intimidated.

"Hey," you reply with a smile.

She smiles back at you while holding her bottle of beer in one hand, "Is this your first bike meet?"

It appears that people can see how new everything is for you and you never feel so caught off guard. You let out a chuckle and nod, "Yeah, it is."

"Do you ride?" She asks in between her sips of beer.

"No, I'm still learning," you shyly answer.

The girl keeps on smiling so you reflexively smile back to her as you wipe your wet hand on your jeans from the condensation on the can of beer.

She suddenly holds her phone at you, "Can I have your numbers?"

That's when you start wondering if she's just being friendly or she's trying to ask you out. You're thinking it's the former so you you awkwardly take her phone, entering your phone numbers on it.

She takes it back from you and asks for your name, typing it as you tell her. She then shoves her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

"What are you doing next Friday? Want to go for a ride?" She asks with a flirty smile and her hair gets caught between her glossy lips.

"A ride? With you?" You innocently ask just to confirm if she's asking you that.

"Yes."

It turns out that she's doing the latter after all and somehow, you feel flattered that she asked which makes you hesitate to reject her, but your boyfriend is about to get back from his test drive and that'll be a lot more explain.

"Uhm... I would love to," you answer and keep a smile on your face to soften the blow, "But I came here with my boyfriend so..."

You trail off but it's safe to assume that she'll understand what you meant by saying that. Her smile wavers a little but she remains warm and friendly.

"So should I delete your numbers or...?" She playfully asks.

"I mean, we can be friends," you respond with a low laugh.

She retracts her hand from the back pocket of her jeans and laughs, "I guess we can do that."

She then takes another sip of her beer and looks at you, "Guess I'll see you around," she says.

"See you around," you say back out of courtesy.

Not long after the girl leaves, Changbin returns from his test drive looking like he just came back from a date. You offer your beer to him and he doesn't hesitate to take a long gulp while you dab the sheen of sweat on his neck with the back of your hand.

"Was it fun?" You softly ask.

"It was thrilling," he answers with a grin and he feels like sharing his joy with you with a spontaneous peck on your lips.

Changbin puts his hands on your waist and pulls you close, placing a kiss on your lips once more, then lets go with a smile.

"I saw a food truck just around the corner. Want to take a quick bite?"

"Okay."

He excitedly talks about the test drive as he takes your hand and walks by your side. He helps you with your jacket and carrying it in one hand.

"Did I make you wait long?" He asks out of the blue.

"Not at all," you answer without a beat.

He smiles and brings your hand close to his mouth to kiss it. It's nice that all these bikes and bikers don't stop him from being affectionate towards you. However, you can't believe that you consider not telling him about the girl, not that you want to hide it, nothing happens so it feels unnecessary to share.

"You know, a girl just asked me out earlier," you blurt out.

Changbin stops on his track and looks at you in slight shock, "While I was away?"

"Yeah," you innocently answer with a nod, "she asked for my numbers and wanted to take me on a ride."

His eyes comically widened, "And what did you say?"

"I think what's crazy is I considered it for a moment," you admit with an embarrassed laugh.

He takes a step closer and grabs each side of your head, holding your head still as he stares into your eyes, "you didn't mention anything about me?"

"Obviously, I did, or else I'd be gone on that ride with her," you answer, half-laughing.

"Babe?!" He gives you an inexplicable look of worry and surprise.

"There's something on your face," you say, wiping something on his cheek and then rubbing your fingers together.

"Wait, is that jealousy?" You tease him.

Without warning, he pulls you hard until your body is pressed against him and he holds you tightly, "You have to stay close to me from now on," he says.

"No," you jokingly respond.

Displeased with your answer, he presses a kiss on your neck and you groan in complaint, "I'm sweaty. Stop!"

"I only left you for a few minutes and someone wanted to take you away from me," he says with a sigh, then he puts his arm around your waist to keep you close to his side as the two of you continue walking across the parking lot.

-

The bike meet is still going but Changbin decides to leave early since you both have a long way home. You leave as the day is about to get dark, stopping for dinner on the way and another quick stop at a gas station.

You stand on the side as Changbin stays on the bike, inserting the gas pump into the fuel tank of his bike.

"That should be me," you joke with a sly smile.

He flashes you his half-smirk and jacks the gas pump in and out of the fuel tank.

"Perv!" You jokingly remark.

"Hey! You started it!" He argues back.

The sky is bruised as the night is about to take over and the heat is being replaced by the cool night air, flapping the sleeves of your jacket as the bike speeds past cars on the highway.

"It's windy," you say, feeling the contrast change of temperature.

"Better not rain," he says.

"I hope not," you sigh as you look up at the sky and think that the sky is getting dark because it's going to rain soon.

Changbin lets go of his hand and feels the air in his hand, then says, "I feel a little water. I think it's going to rain."

The wind is getting stronger, you can feel it as how it hits the visor of your helmet and you feel the need to cling tighter onto Changbin's back.

"I feel like I'm going to fall off," you tell him.

"Hold on tight, babe," he says in concern, taking both of your hands and putting them around him.

"You're shivering," he says, hurriedly rubbing your forearm with his gloved hand to create heat.

Feeling mischievous, you glide one of your hands down to his crotch and cup the big bulge in his jeans.

"It's warmer here," you tell him while quietly giggling inside your helmet.

"Not here," he says, taking your hand and placing it on his tummy where he holds both your hands there so they don't wander around.

The change of weather doesn't make the ride less of what it is, another joyride with Changbin and you feel so content with how you spent the day together.

Even with the bike accelerates and rolls forward faster than before, you're not afraid because you trust Changbin and you know he'll keep you safe. All you need to do is hold on to him tighter.

"I like this," you mutter with contentment.

He glances to the back for a second, "Mmh?"

"I love being your backpack," you tell him.

Even though you can't see it through his helmet, you can tell that he's smiling. He holds his hand out to the back and you immediately take it, letting him lace his fingers with yours and together, you're riding through the day and into the night.

-

The rain gets to you both even though you're only a few blocks away from your apartment building, resulting in your clothes being drenched in rainwater.

The two of you run straight to the bathroom, stripping away the clothes that stuck to your skin in struggle, and put them right into the washing machine.

Once you're fully naked, you break into a run to your bedroom and jump onto the bed, getting under the cover to get warm.

"Scoot over!" Changbin demands as he climbs onto the bed, forcing you to halt on your snug to scoot to the side.

You immediately cling yourself to his side and tangle your legs with his. You're cuddling under the duvet to seek warmth from each other's body heat.

Changbin offers his arm as your pillow and that way, he can easily lean in and kiss your face. His lips feel wet and cold, but it feels like he's leaving searing kisses on your skin.

You slightly tilt your head up and capture his lips in a slow, tender kiss that melts your bodies together. You feel his hand getting under and—

"Oh, oh, cold," you sharply gasp against his lips as he places his hand on your stomach.

"Oh, sorry," he mutters, refraining from touching you and taking your hand instead, intertwining it together.

In contrast to his default look, Changbin looks so gentle as he rests his head on the pillow and softly gazes into your eyes, the kind of gaze that slowly makes its way into your heart.

"I had fun today," you tell him as you rub your lips on his knuckle.

"I had fun too," he says back while removing the hair covering your face.

"I think I'm just so happy when I'm with you," you honestly share.

Changbin softly smiles and presses a long peck on your lips, "I'm happy when I'm with you," he repeats your words back to you.

"Are you just going to keep repeating my words back to me?" You joke

"Yes," he shamelessly answers.

"Don't you feel glad that I called you cute that day?"

He lets out a chuckle, "I am more glad about the fact that you didn't run away with the girl who asked you out."

"Yeah, you should be," you say with a sly smile.

Changbin has only been dating you for three months now but it feels more meaningful and fulfilling than his past, year-long relationships. Maybe what people said is true, when you find the right one, it's just clicked.

The temperature is slowly rising as your body overlaps him and both of your lips are locked in a slow yet rapturous kiss. Changbin runs his hands all over you, feeling your miles and miles of soft skin with just his fingertips. His hands eventually found the ample flesh of your ass cheeks and knead on them until they mold into his hands.

Needing a breather, you pull away from the kiss and stay hovering above him. Changbin tucks your hair behind your ear and keeps his hand there to stop it from draping around your face.

You plant your hand against the mattress and then you cup his jaw while deeply staring into his eyes, making him feel more naked than he already is.

"Such a beautiful face," You murmur with adoration pooling in your eyes and your index finger touching his lower lip.

Tempted by his full lips, you press a quick kiss and let go to ask him a question that instantly arouses him.

"Can I ride?"

Changbin doesn't have to think, he'll do anything for you and that includes, letting you use his body for your pleasure. He stares back into your eyes and then he takes your hand to press a kiss on each finger.

"You can ride as long as you want," he finally answers.

The duvet slides down your body as you get up on the bed, positioning yourself on top of him and then slowly, lowering your crotch right on his mouth.

Changbin excessively licks his lips to wet them before he makes contact with your delicate flesh and keeps his mouth open until he feels your wetness on his tongue.

You hold on to the headboard of the bed for support and keep yourself steady, not wanting to accidentally put your whole weight on him and suffocate him.

"Oh, God... Yeah..." you moan as you feel his tongue lapping between your folds.

Despite you covering half of his face, Changbin seems to enjoy pleasing you with his mouth and his eyes are fluttering if not locked in an eye contact with you.

"Oh, my!" You gasp and then break into giggles as he sucks hard at your clit.

You look down and put your hand in his hair, tugging at it as you're watching his mouth deep in your wetness and his nose pressing on your clit.

"Oh, why are you so good, mmh?" You murmur with a flirty smile.

He snakes his arms under your thighs and squeezes the ample flesh of your ass while bringing you closer to him as he sticks his tongue into your gushing hole.

"Oh!" You gasp again, feeling his slick, hot tongue stretching your entrance.

With your hand gripping the headboard, you carefully unfold your leg and plant your foot against the mattress, that way, you can give him a little space to breathe.

You look down and see that the lower half of his face is glistening wet with your essence and you couldn't be more aroused seeing it.

Changbin slightly tilts his head to the side and opens his mouth wider. His hands glide up to your waist and force you to sit on his face again, ignoring the fact that he needs to breathe.

"Greedy baby," you mutter while bringing his hands to your breasts and kneading them together.

After a while, you decide that it's enough foreplay and slowly lift yourself so he can breathe. You crawl to the back, just enough to lower your lips on him and kiss his face while licking your essence that gets all over his mouth and chin, and eventually, both of your lips reunite in an enamoring kiss.

From his lips, you make a trail of kisses down his body and land a stripe of lick on his nipple before continuing to drag your lips on the ridges of his muscles.

When your lips arrive on his abdomen, you lift your head to look at him and flash him a wicked grin. His lips curl into his signature half smirk, knowing what's about to come him as you wrap your hand around his hardening member.

You tilt your head to the side and kiss his shaft, and another kiss on the tip, then slowly, you take him into your mouth.

It takes some time to finally be able to take all of him into your mouth and you compensate the rest you can't take with your hand, combining the two stimulations and moving in sync.

Changbin props his elbow against the mattress so he can watch you take his cock into your mouth.

"Love seeing those pretty lips around my cock," he murmurs while putting your hair away from covering your face.

You maintain eye contact with him as you suck his cock and bob your head between his legs, showing him how eager you are to please him.

"Are you trying to suck the life out of me, huh?" He playfully says as you suck his cock too hard.

You end up choking on air as you laugh with his cock deep in your mouth. You immediately pull away and gasp for air the moment his cock is out of your mouth.

When your eyes meet him, you crack a shy smile and crawl to him, not stopping until your lips crash against him.

"I want you so much," you openly admit.

He tenderly cups your jaw and sucks on your lower lip, playfully nibbling at it before letting it go with a playful smirk.

"No one is stopping you, baby," he mutters to you.

Changbin likes it when you're on top. He likes it more when he can just lay on his back and watch you fucking him good with your breasts jiggling along to the movements.

"How are you so good at this?" He asks, befuddled.

You don't say anything but shoot him a naughty smile. You toss all of your hair to the back and take his hands in yours, "Touch me, baby!"

There's no part of you that he doesn't like, your body is divine and you feel so soft all over that he can hear himself whimpering that he gets so overwhelmed by it. He holds you close and plants his head in between your soft mounds, getting himself intoxicated in your natural scent.

"I'm close, baby," you whine as you keep bouncing on his cock.

"Keep going!" He simply responds, holding you by the waist and ready to help you to get to your release.

"Oh, baby," you moan with your eyes screwed shut and gripping his shoulders with your nails dug into the flesh.

Oh, yeah, you don't even have to say it, he can feel you tightening around him and sucking him deeper, making him lose some self-control.

"It's okay. You can let go!" He tells you with a haste kiss on your jaw and neck.

You push yourself to keep moving and using the strength you have to keep going, your moans turn into cries as you get on the brink of climaxing.

"Yes, baby, let go," he encourages you with a hard kiss on your open mouth.

A raw moan falls out of your mouth as you reach your high and Changbin immediately catches you as you collapse into his arms, holding you close to fill your need for closeness.

"That's my girl," he whispers into your ear.

He places sweet, little kisses on your shoulder with his hand gently rubbing your back. He then slips his hand into the hair on the side of your head and holds your face as he presses a long kiss on your lips.

Changbin puts your hands around his shoulders and wraps his arms around you, then swiftly, he turns you over, having you pinned underneath him this time. He gives you a moment to relish your orgasm and gives you cuddles and kisses as you slowly gather your senses back.

"Put it back in, please?" You lowly mutter at him with your lips grazing his as you speak.

"Already?" He jokingly asks.

"Yes," you eagerly answer with a grin.

He presses his lips on you again with his hand squeezing the flesh on your waist. Without breaking the kiss, he positions himself between your legs and rubs his cock against your heating core, his tip teasing at your entrance.

You spread your legs wider and arch your back, getting impatient to be filled by him as you squirm under him.

"Want it that bad, mmh?"

"Yeah," you shamelessly answer with an eager nod.

It gives him a boost to know that he's the only one who can give you what you want and what is there to do than prove that he can give it to you right.

A few strokes on his length later, Changbin aims the tip into your entrance and he pushes it in by his hips. He's torn between looking at his cock slowly disappearing into you or the overwhelmed expression on your face, both are just as arousing.

"Ah..." you breathlessly moan and the pained expression on your face is replaced by a blissful one.

A second later, your eyes fluttered open, and instantly found his eyes looking at you. You run your hands up his arms and keep gliding them until they reunite on the nape of his neck, and then you pull him close for a kiss.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to your big cock," you mutter once you break the kiss.

"Then how you always take me so well?" He says with a soft smile.

Changbin wants this to last as long as possible and he's not just talking about the sex, it's the intimacy, the proximity, and how he becomes one with you, body and soul. He likes everything about this moment and if he could, he wants to stay in this moment forever.

"This is kind of romantic," you say as you hold his face with both hands.

"Why is that?" He asks while thrusting into you at a slow yet steady pace.

"It's raining, we're both naked, we're kissing, we're having a slow sex..." You list everything about the moment and place sweet little kisses on his lips in between words, "... no condom."

Instead of disrupting, laughter makes it more than just a mere physical thing, it's bonding and trust, it's you and him making love.

Changbin had his doubts but now, not anymore. He is certain about his feelings and he knows where he needs to take this relationship.

"I have an idea how to make it more romantic," he says with a cryptic smile.

"Yeah...?" You stare up at him in curiosity.

He takes a deep breath and exhales the words that he's been keeping in his chest for a while, "By saying I love you."

"Huh?" You seem to doubt that he's really going to do it.

"I love you," he says, steadfastly and with all of his heart.

There's a moment of silence and he believes you must have been taken aback by his sudden confession. The surprise in your eyes fades as your lips curve into a warm smile.

"Dang! I thought you were going to say something like let's cum together," you jokingly say with your fingers playing with the tendrils of hair on the nape of his neck.

"Well, we can do that too," he says, taking that as a challenge.

The faint sounds of the raindrops tapping against the window mixed with the skin-slapping sounds of his thrusts. Changbin keeps his pace steady but with added intensity to it, and he goes as shallow as possible in each thrust.

"Baby?" You desperately call his name between your moans.

He answers your call with a haste kiss, "Yes, baby?"

"I'm close," you tell him with your teeth faintly biting your lower lip.

"We're getting there, baby," he murmurs and rushes to kiss you again.

This is why Changbin likes making you cum first, he likes the way your walls are getting even tighter around him, and more importantly, he doesn't feel burdened to keep holding himself back.

He holds your legs by the back of your thighs and bends them until your knees meet your chest, then carefully, he plants his feet against the mattress. In this position, he can go deeper into you and you can watch his cock pumping in and out of you.

"You're so deep inside me, baby," you speak so low it's almost like a whisper but it's your wide eyes and heavy with lust that gets him off.

He deems it's time to quicken the pace, he adds more speed to his thrusting with his hands roughly pressing on the back of your legs.

"Oh, baby, oh..." The rest of your sentence is incoherent and you turn into a moaning mess under him.

Changbin can no longer think, he keeps going and pushing himself to the limit until he snaps, losing himself in immense pleasure, flying high in it and slowly, plunging his way into your arms.

The two of you holding each other as you're coming down from the high, bodies stacked on top of each other, hands intertwined, and lips found each other in a sensuous kiss.

"Bin?" You softly call his name with your hand endearingly holding the side of his face.

He gives your lips a quick peck and looks into your eyes, "Yes, baby?"

"I love you too," you say with fondness pooling in your eyes.

It would be a lie if he said that it didn't make his heart leap from hearing it but he needs to make sure that you didn't say it out of pressure.

He nuzzles his head in your neck and plants a hot kiss there, "You know you don't have to say it back to me," he softly mutters with another kiss on your jaw.

"But I want to. I love you too," you reply.

You said those three words again and the effect remains the same, hearing it for the second time makes his heart feel like it's about to jump out of his chest. He kisses you out of happiness and with his heart full of warm feelings.

"Dang! I thought you were going to say we have to go for another round," Changbin jokingly says as a way to poke fun at you.

You chuckle and bring his head close, catching him off guard, you playfully bite at his ear, then triumphantly giggling after.

Changbin yelps in pain and quickly rubs on it, he's getting back at you with a bite on your shoulder.

"Stop it!" You stop him by pushing his chest away from yours.

He pauses and looks at you, "You want to stop?"

"No," you shake your head at him, and with a sly smile you continue, "I want you to give me another ride."

Changbin stares back at your eyes filled with wild glints and he does nothing but hover above you, his face lingers only inches away from yours and you can see mischief flashes in his eyes, making your heart pitter patter inside your chest.

All of a sudden, he takes both of your hands and pins them above your head. With his lips curled into a wicked smile, he leans in closer and says, "Better hold on tight then cause it's going to be a bumpy ride."

-

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[violetrainbow412-blog]

Bolinus brandaris [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

and by public demand, part. 2

summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.

Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.

You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.

“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.

“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”

"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.

"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"

"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”

"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.

“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.

Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.

"A scarf?"

“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"

"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”

“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.

“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.

"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"

"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.

You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.

The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.

You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.

The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.

"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.

"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.

"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.

"You understand what?"

“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”

"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"

"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.

"I just like it. That's all”

"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.

"Good morning"

"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.

“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.

"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.

"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"

Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Might have re-watched Captain America: Winter Soldier again 🫣....and it's just something about the way he says "You're my misson." All I know is this gives off HUGE smutty vibes. I love your written so I just knew I had to ask you!

Ohh nonnie the way he growls it as well (panties soaked)

18+ MINORS DNI, DUB/NON CON THEMES AHEAD

His metal hand pressed against your throat, you should’ve passed out ages ago but he wasn’t squeezing enough to hurt. He was keeping you in place.

You don’t know how you ended up on Hydra’s watchlist. You were a regular person, a security expert who woke up at 6am every morning, showered and got ready for the long hours at the office.

Your boss had some new clientele. They were in the market for top-notch security and they’d chosen the company you worked for, and your boss had chosen you to be part of the team. You learned quickly that they were a very secretive group, you only ever met the messengers and even then they blanked every other word you spoke besides a polite hello.

It was one boring day, completely uneventful, the usual in your office. You were working on the can’t security side of the project when your screen went black, then a logo appeared—an octopus? Weird.

“Hey Jim come look at this” you notified your cubicle neighbour who peaked over the barrier. Just as he did mountains of files filtered onto your screen, many of them in Russian it looked like but one thing was for certain. You definitely shouldn’t have seen it.

That night after packing up and heading downstairs you noticed Jim still at the revolving doors.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked, he looked pale, if you were in an old house you were sure you would’ve mistook him for a ghost.

“T-the—“ he cleared his throat before his brown eyes bore into yours. They looked dead, it shook you to your core. “The logo, on your computer…I searched it up and…”

Your jaw dropped to the floor when you digested the content on his phone. Hydra. Your new clients were Hydra and you’d accidentally seen all their files.

—

You jumped from your dreamless sleep at the sound of your landline. Checking your clock lets you know it was well past midnight, who on earth would be calling at this time?

“H-hello?” You rasped, eyes shutting by the second.

The frantic voice spoke your name. It was Jim and by his tone, he was panicking.

“Jim? Jim, are you alright?” You pressed, holding the phone closer to your ear.

“T-they’re here, listen to me whatever you do, do not open your door. Find a weapon and hide…oh god…Do not op—“ BANG!!

You let out a shriek at the sound, Jim’s side turning eerily quiet. Then your door knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Your door was gone before it could be knocked for a third time. Kicked so hard it hit the opposite wall, you screamed, dropping the phone from your ear and falling to the ground like you were made of jelly.

Tears flowed freely down your face as the huge body stalked forth, his arm glistening under the dim light you kept on at all times. A mask sat upon his face obscuring his emotions from you but you were certain he was enjoying the torture he was putting you through.

His heavy boots stopped just in front of your knees, his metal hand grasped at your throat squeezing until your vision spotted, until you garbled pleas up at him. Only then did he pull you up, your toes pointing to reach the floor, you were trying desperately to relieve some of the pressure around your throat.

You should’ve died a long time ago, his brain screamed at him to fulfil his mission, put a bullet in your skull and be done. But the more he looked at you the more he wanted.

The spaghetti straps of your nightgown had slipped down off your shoulders, catching in the crooks of your elbows but not before giving him a delicious tease of your bust.

He wanted more.

He raised his flesh hand, hooking a long thick index finger into the material before ripping it from your body in one fell swoop. You yelled and struggled against his grasp but a harsh squeeze of your trachea had any fight dying quickly.

He let his knuckles trace the swell of your tits, pinching a nipple in between his fingers, smirking darkly under the mask as you squirmed.

You look cute all scared of him; wide-eyed and chest heaving, your tummy sucking in to get away from his hand as it trailed down to your cotton panties.

A dark chuckle escaped him as he felt along your gusset.

“You’re wet”

You shook your head, eyes darting anywhere but him, your thighs squeezing his hand and keeping it pressed firmly against your mound.

He ripped the panties from your body as well, running two fingers through your folds and bringing them up to your face. Absolutely soaked.

“Wet” he spoke matter-of-factly before pushing his hand back down there; fingers plucking your hard little clit effortlessly until you were crying out.

“W-why are you doing this” you moaned, head hitting off the wall with a bang as you sucked in air greedily.

“You’re my mission” he growled back, fingers stretching you out until your brain turned to mush.

He coaxed four orgasms out of you that night. His mask, thrown to the floor so he could kiss you sloppily before leaving.

He returned night after night, Hydra sending him to complete his task but he’d do the same again, play with you, eat you out until you were a writhing mess—all dumb and thinking of nothing but him.

You were his mission. For days, months, years. You were his.

—

I pulled this outta my ass but I hope it was up to your standard nonnie 🤭🤭

Also thank you so much, it’s nice to know some people enjoy reading the poo I write.

Likes, Reblogs and Asks are always appreciated ❤️❤️

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how things should be.

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour. or lack thereof, you suppose — he’s digested far too many curses for his taste buds to remain intact.

or so he says, anyhow.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone; a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you.

”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile — one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. getō gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table; studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch. exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense — to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before. beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance — if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking any illusion of peace before you can find solace in it. 

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread — any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes and inhales a breath. ”because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 

then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, like this, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine your fingers, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over. 

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down. everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 

(he’s yours, again. and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 

[courtneedsatoru]

when you meet satoru gojo for the first time, you can't bring yourself to look at those sharpened, piercing eyes of his. he's loud and vibrant and in your face... and well, you're not. at least not in front of the people who make you nervous. you're shirking away, because of the way those eyes make your stomach twist and turn.

if satoru gojo had to pick one person who wouldn't fall for him, he'd choose you. not that he thought you hated him, he assumed you simply didn't care. or about anything at all in the first place. he'd get three variations of a dry response from you: a shrug, a small nod, or a plain and quiet "no," all paired with that irritating downward gaze. boring, annoying, not my type at all. so he didn't try so hard to get to know you, and simply left it at that.

until satoru gojo sees you laugh for the first time with your friend haibara in the commons. a bright and warm laugh that lights up the entire room like an inviting fireplace. why hasn't he seen this before? why does his world look more colorful when you smile? just who are you?

satoru gojo makes it his goal to find out. he wants to know what makes you tick, what pisses you off, what quirks you have other than that annoying, stubborn refusal to look in his eyes. he wants to see them, your eyes when they light up, when they crinkle around the edges while he is the one making you smile. and, he secretly wants to see what you'd look like when you're falling in love (with him). little does he know that you already did.

when satoru gojo sees you in the hallway, the two of you brushing pass each other, he hopes that you'd take notice of him. but it seems like your eyes are glued to the floor more focused on trying not to trip and fall. (you would if you saw him.) he wants to say hi, but he wants to hear you say hi to him first, so he doesn't say anything. satoru internally groans. was the floor more notable than him? really?? he'll just have to take matters into his own hands

when satoru gojo manspreads on the couch, taking up a solid 66.67% of the limited space, he watches you fortifying your walls, the way your avert eyes away from him. this time around, he doesn't let you go. he follows your gaze down until it settles on his forearm. he flexes his arm making sure the juicy veins pop out because satoru gojo is an opportunistic man and a show off.

"like what you see?"

"um..."

"you scared? aw, don't be. do i make you nervous or something?"

you shake your head, but don't look up. you didn't have the tolerance to digest that teasing smirk with his signature dimple indenting the corner of that smug, no-good mouth. thank god he was blissfully unaware of how much you ached for him every time he said "hi" to you. it ached even more when he stopped saying hi, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or mourn.

satoru gojo wants to tilt your chin up, wants to catch a glimpse of your eyes, wants you to finally look at him, but knows better than to trespass your boundaries. so instead, he drops to his knees and looks up at you, for you. The first time he sees those wide, drop-dead gorgeous eyes staring back at him and that flustered blush blooming across your oh-so-pinchable cheeks, he knows there's no going back.

a/n: satoru gojo may have the six eyes, but the only eyes he wants are yours ;)

[s-4pphics]

make the bed. (e.w.)

“𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃.”

omggg my first writing challenge YIPPPEEEE shoutout to olivia rodrigo

ty to the post-pandemic prose and my babies @elliesbelle and @totheblood for pointers :D love yall down 

wc;cw: 1.1K, just angst YAAAAY, internalized homophobia, ellies so sad :(, mentions of alcohol

“lf I liked girls,” you slurred, your lips brushing against the shell of Ellie’s ear, the pounding speakers synched with the squeezes in her chest, “I swear t’god… you’d be mine.” 

Whenever you drunkenly murmur to her like this, Ellie wishes she didn’t hear you; She was shocked she could over the ruckus happening all around, rattling the bubble she created for the two of you. You always sounded so sure with your lies. They never fail to throw her into fight or flight mode. She tensed and her stomach churned in despair. 

“Y’so perfect, Ellie. Love y’so… fuckin’ much. All mine.” 

All she could do was nod and whirl you around with a pained smile before burying it into your clothed shoulder. You didn’t bat an eye; You were always the affectionate drunk. 

But she wanted to scream. To cry and beg and ask — demand that you fall into her right where you stand. To love her the way she’s loved you since she showed you how to ride a bicycle in elementary school. She flinched at every delicate kiss you planted on her neck, her hands squeezing at your hips. She doesn’t know if she wants to push or pull you closer. 

She knows. Her arms enclosed around your waist and you giggle into her skin. 

This is exactly how you two should be. She’s envisioned it since middle school: completely infatuated and engulfed in each other, secluded off in your own little world filled with nothing but solace. Closeness. Affection and desire. 

So why was she sick to her stomach at your scent? Lavender and sage no longer brought her the comfort that they used to in adolescence. She was being torn apart from the inside out, but she couldn’t scream. 

She only listened, digested every drunk fallacy that you directed to her in secret. With no one watching. No one ever watched. No one could know. That was your only rule when she climbed through your window months prior. Please just keep it between us, you’d whispered before leaning in to kiss her. 

At least Ellie could imagine that this was real as she held you tight: recreate the same image in her mind over and over. The two of you are together and happy to be in love with no selfishness or regrets in her mind. All she had to do was close her eyes, and you were all hers, just like you said. She’s so, so in love with you. 

But you didn’t want her. You never did. 

She’s instantly reminded of that day a few months ago. The memory feels like a ghost over her shoulder; Maybe that’s why she’s constantly peeking over it, picking at it with her nails. 

The two of you often reserved study rooms during exam season for review, but you had other plans. You were exactly where you were supposed to be — room 213 — but you weren’t by yourself. 

You — beautiful, as always — brought… friends. Friends that Ellie knew, that you knew, didn’t like her. She never actually talked to them, but she always felt… off. She was instantly riddled with anxiety, the books that she checked out ten minutes ago almost hitting the floor as her arms weakened. Sweat pebbled on her forehead as she stood and watched everyone stare at her. 

Why did it look like they were all laughing? She couldn’t hear any chuckles, but there was laughter. Someone’s laughing at her. Do they know? You have to know, but do they know about the two of you? About how Ellie feels—

Ellie? you’d called. 

… Mhm? she recalls almost fainting. 

Your eyes were confused; You knew something was off, and it made her even more nervous. 

Sit down, honey. Come meet everyone. You made sure to massage her knee under the table; It always soothed her. 

The introductions were surprisingly smooth. Ellie never expected your friends to be so polite considering how rowdy they seemed outside of class. She was pleasantly surprised and put at ease. Until the end of your study session. 

Everyone was packing their bags and cracking jokes. Ellie even got a couple laughs out of some of them during the quiet few hours. 

Ellie wasn’t sure what came over her, but she eased closer to you, still gathering your books. She relaxed at your scent. When you turned to face her with that gentle smile, her mouth moved on autopilot. 

I missed you so much. You never hit me back last night.  

Maybe it was the way Ellie said it. She shouldn’t have looked into your eyes the way she did, whispered to you like that, said she missed you with so much devotion. But she did, and she wished she didn’t. 

Your smile turned to worry instantaneously, and Ellie’s heart plummeted when your head whipped around the room to check if anyone heard before turning back to her. No one cared. 

Ellie felt like she’d been stabbed. It happened so quickly; she probably would’ve missed it if she blinked. Her nails dug into the hardcover of her books, tears jerking in her eyes before she tossed a stiff see you guys later over her shoulder and rushed out the room. You tried to grab her arm, but she shoved you off. She had to fight her instincts so she wouldn’t turn around and apologize for being too rough. 

She got back to her dorm and… trashed it while she cried. Disgust and anger flooded her system while she threw her clothes, her trinkets, the photo of you, Ellie, and her mother at your shared high school graduation across the room (she only sobbed harder when she noticed it cracked when it hit the floor). The emotions that rushed through her weren’t even for you, but for herself. Ellie’s own hope destroyed her, and she only has herself to blame. 

She should’ve known at the time to never speak to you again, but she loved you. She loves you. Every fiber, every cell of her being lived to see you at your happiest; It’s tortuous how you expose the darkest parts that she wished to keep hidden until the end of time. She hasn’t felt like this since she was a teenager. 

And yet, she still swayed you. Kept you close so she could breathe you in. This is the most you allow, at least: physical touch. She knew better than to allow you to mistreat her, but she couldn’t leave you. You both danced until your legs burned, and you fell into her bed the same night. 

She forced herself to lay in the massacred mattress that she’d tried to keep made since she was a kid. The least you could do was fluff the pillow you slept on every night.

[yanderestarangel]

‘TOGETHER IN KHAOS’

new!noob saibot x male reader

♡ ┆TW : ftm reader, fingering, v!sex, penetration, afab anatomy, use of his saibot to stimulate you, creampie.

"Look at me, don't take your eyes off me." The deep, dark voice sent something like a sweet poison down your spine, making you try to maintain consciousness as your reality and world crashed down on you – literally crumbling around you. Bi Han had been caught by Havik and the titan transformed him into a perfect warrior, without mercy, without weakness, more agile and lethal – however he could not exclude the most important part of the grandmaster's soul, you.

You felt his large hands explore your body lying on the cold stone floor as the lights and fragments of destruction passed around the two of you – he had small sharp claws along his black skin with small green glowing threads on his body, his eyes, previously brown and alive, were shining an ice-like white. He heard you moan softly as his fingers found their way to your clit, applying gentle pressure to your sensitive bud and making you hold onto his body.

You felt his fingers filling you like never before, however before you could moan his name he stopped you, whispering through the fabric that covered the lower half of his face.

"It's Noob now, Noob Saibot..." He spoke calmly, for the first time in years you saw your husband truly calm and complete with himself, it was all too new for you to digest but you were trying for him. He curled his fingers hitting your G-spot and making you moan softly and turning into a blushing mess for him, you could smell him, his voice even if a little thicker and deeper, it was still that of the same human man you had always loved.

"Fuck boy... So fucking wet." Noob moaned softly as he watched his fingers completely wet with your juices, his thumb quickly found your clit again as you felt his clouded gaze on your body; his other hand settled on your soft thigh and lightly marked you with his claws, your pleasure was so much that you didn't even feel the small pain in your flesh when he did this.

You tried to focus your gaze on his eyes, as he told you to, but you could only shed a few tears as you begged him for more — the fact that you hadn't denied his new appearance and status was like another proof of love to him, not only that, it also served to boost his ego, regardless of how he was, you would want him, be he demon or human. "Look how you're wetting my fingers baby... Holy shit- boy you don't know how much I love you." He moaned hoarsely and deep, curling his fingers again and making you tremble on his digits and milk them as if it was the only thing you knew.

You saw your lover take his cock out of his pants, small bright green veins adorned his dark, pulsing member – He began to move slowly at first, his thrusts deep and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock inside you.

His movements became more confident, his pace quickening as he felt your body responding to his touch. He began to move slowly at first, his thrusts deep and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock inside you. His movements became more confident, his pace quickening as he felt your body responding to his touch.

As he pumped into you, Noob's Saibot appeared behind you, gently reached around you and began to caress and manipulate your breasts; "You like being used by me, don't you, darling? I can see it in your eyes, you're pitiful, begging to be broken, to be taken... you still love me don't you?" Noob moaned hoarsely, while his Saibot pinched his nipples between his ghostly fingers – He leaned forward, his mask brushing against your face as he lowered his head, his breath hot against your skin. He wanted to claim you, to remind you that despite the darkness that now surrounded him, he was still the man you once loved.

"You shiver and moan louder... such a good boy." He lifted your legs up to his shoulders, burying himself completely inside you. His cock filled you completely, the sensation of being completely possessed by him causing your back to arch and your moans to intensify. The power behind his thrusts increased, his hips slamming into you with a primal fury.

You could feel the heat emanating from his cock, the throbbing pulse growing stronger with each movement; you moaned his name loud enough to echo in the space of that chaos, the stimuli were making you see stars and lose control of your own senses – As you climaxed, Noob Saibot felt his own release building, the sensation of your pussy milking his cock sending him over the edge.

He grunted loudly, his hips bucking against yours as he filled you with his hot, thick cum – It was different from the other times his cum froze your brain, this time you felt warm inside; you whimpered at the new sensation feeling totally full.

His saibot, sensing his master's release, took his fingers and gently spread your pussy lips, allowing Noob's cum to spill out, mixing with your own juices. You watched your husband practically in a trance as his cum dripped down onto the cold stone beneath your body. He presses your forehead against his, his sighing heavily through the mask – his white eyes shining brightly as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"We are together in this chaos... Forever."

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆

[headspace-hotel]

facts about The Fear, after 20 years of life with her

The Fear is NOT:

an intruder, invader, or some other entity from "outside" You

inappropriate, wrong, or incorrect

a responsibility

a punishment

"irrational" or otherwise able to be understood through a relationship to "rationality"

an "inaccurate" representation of reality

The Fear IS:

an innate part of you

extra-rational—she exists outside and completely independent from "rationality" and does not respond to being judged according to that lens

self-love—her purpose is to protect you and keep you safe

self-sufficient—fear is a 100% whole, complete entity that doesn't "represent" or "reflect" something else

earnest—fear is always a 100% real experience that is exactly as it is felt, and, needing no comparison or reference to any external reality, it is not "dishonest" or "inaccurate"— it asserts a claim about only itself

subversive [not quite the word I am looking for but it will have to do]— is not necessarily beholden to social and cultural norms of what should be feared, how much, and how you should respond. She does not stop existing in the absence or suppression of vocabulary to describe her.

a demand for care— she does not just communicate to you but to the community you are part of; she calls attention to an obligation that this community has toward you, to make sure that you are safe within it and that your experiences are heard and understood.

yeah, so, i've had severe anxiety for my whole life and the way it's been treated and dealt with, and the way I've been taught to understand it, has really fucked me up so I am trying to lay the groundwork for understanding it differently

I think it's pretty fucked up that we're taught to see anxiety as deceptive or inaccurate. Now, obviously the images or projections in my fearful thoughts do not usually "reflect reality," but I have come to see this as...not particularly important?

Teaching an anxiety sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict "irrational" fear is, in my opinion, the same as teaching a chronic pain sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict pain with no clear physical source. You might as well speak of "irrational" pain, and pain has the same relationship to rationality that fear has.

"Irrationality" is a quality assigned to fear that is judged by an outside observer, or by the collective cultural biases and hang-ups of a society, as not appropriate to a given situation. This is total fucking nonsense and we should be talking about that, because...well, the first reason is that it implies some kind of fixed standard for what fear ultimately is and isn't for. i like to tell people to watch one of those Coyote Peterson videos where he's going to get a tarantula hawk wasp to sting him, because he's obviously having a strong physical fear response, even though he knows it won't kill him. Is it "rational" to fear suffering and not just death? How much suffering? Sit with that one a little while.

The second reason, which is even more convincing, is that the "rational" brain is not consulted at any point, ever, when a person feels afraid. It's just a response. The fear response is not routed through the conscious, sapient, reasoning brain. And thank God, because if we needed to hear back from an upstairs executive before we could decide whether to run from a lion, our species would be extinct.

Techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy were absolute fucking shit at making my life any better, but fantastic at wrecking my ability to identify my own emotions, because Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for anxiety basically amounts to trying to brainwash yourself into thinking you don't feel the emotions that you do. It's a really neat way to develop bizarre psychosomatic symptoms and start experiencing anxiety through constant body pain, swollen lymph nodes, and digestive issues.

For an institution that pathologizes having "alters," psychiatry sure loves to encourage a suffering person to view normal and ultimately good parts of themselves as distinct, intruding entities to be shoved in a closet somewhere.

And yes. Fear is ultimately a good part of you, a part of you that loves you.

What began to set me free was feeling that acid terror and sickness and rage course through my body and realizing—really realizing—that I was being illuminated with this ancient, powerful force driving me to LIVE.

I want us to make it. I want you to live.

And you know what, I want me to live too.

I abandoned the doctrine of calming down—Lord knows it had never worked anyway—and started really just exploring and existing in the Fear.

How did that feel? Bad. Very very very very very bad and really not productive or helpful at all initially. Which was unavoidable. Necessary. She had been frantically clawing to communicate with me for so long, and I had been shutting her away, silencing her, resenting her presence in my psyche. I started trying to show gratitude toward the signals my body gave me. I started trying to show gratitude toward her—and i guess the Fear was a Her now, this just seemed more respectful.

And it seemed like nothing happened, but several things happened.

I stopped searching for validation. That was a big one. At some point I just...stopped needing a "reason" or justification for the fear I felt (trauma???? neurodivergence???? neurodivergence trauma????) and the fact that I experienced it became completely sufficient and satisfying to me. So much guilt and confusion disappeared.

I also became steadily more confident about my own boundaries, particularly in regards to recovery.

It's awful now that I think about it, but I think I felt this sense of almost moral obligation towards "recovery," as if I needed to "overcome fear" to be Courageous and Virtuous. It made me feel crushing guilt to feel any hesitation about this.

But then this started to change. It became more real to me that was the only person affected by the steps I did or didn't take toward recovery, and there was no moral dimension to it. A therapist couldn't put me in a box I wouldn't willingly go into.

Freedom from these judgmental frameworks is really important to me. I think that I always hated the idea of getting "better" because it seemed like "better" would mean just getting better at submitting to things I was afraid of while everything felt just as bad as it always did on the inside.

And on some level—even though I could never put it into words at the time—I violently hated the idea of "recovery" from some of my fears because it seemed like the ultimate denial of agency. I didn't want to "become okay with it"—the possibility felt dehumanizing. It felt awful.

And I realize now that this is because The Fear represented something I needed to have a right to. Many of my most life-destroying fears centered around things being done to my body, and if I could have pressed a button and been no longer afraid, I wouldn't have, even though it would have spared me so much suffering, because...I needed it to be okay to want agency over my body. I needed it to be right. The Fear, in this case, was a demand that my body be treated as sacred.

I realized that there were many cases where The Fear was a territorial claim of sorts, a demand that certain needs be honored and met—She needs this. This is FUCKING non-negotiable.

And it really...prompted me to look backward on my life and see The Fear differently: not as a responsibility I had failed to shoulder (me?? a little child??? responsible?? Responsible for being brave, when every day felt like facing a firing squad?????) but as a collective responsibility

Because I was not alone in those memories—I was surrounded by adults that saw me suffering, and often dismissed, ignored or ridiculed it. The Fear grew larger and larger; why?—to protect me. Because teachers, nurses, doctors, and camp counselors did not do any of the thousand thousand things they could have done to make that little girl feel safe. Because my well-meaning parents praised me when I was "brave" but I, a little kid, literally couldn't communicate how awful it always felt.

The Fear was not there to torture me. The Fear was and is doing her best to keep me safe. It's not wrong, there's no need for guilt. It just is.

It doesn't feel good. But maybe one day it will feel better.

[lixiesfreckless]

mind games | p. js

➸ synopsis: a little playful banter and psychoanalysis never hurt anybody.

➸ starring: park jisung x reader

➸ word count: 1.3k

➸ general content: college au, house party shenanigans, kissing, sungie is exactly the smooth man I know he could be if he didn't get flustered every 0.2 secs-

➸ warnings: alcohol consumption

➸ rating: 15+

➸ author’s note: I've literally had this in the drafts for MONTHS sorry for keeping park jisung content from tumblr, that should be a crime punishable by firing squad-

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! it's empty cups by charlie puth put it on pUT IT ON

You don't know what's making you more drunk; the alcohol or the man in front of you.

You've been watching his dark hooded eyes gaze at you this whole conversation, something that should feel casual, but with no one else on the couch, feels more intimate than you would have expected. And try as you might, you can't ignore the deep timbre of his voice, almost reminding you of a siren in how you can barely focus on anything else. Even the loud music of the party seems to fade when your eyes naturally trace the sound to the curve of his mouth, occasionally curling on one side when he catches your eyes wandering lower.

Damn. You don't remember being this much of a lightweight.

“-but enough about my major,” he sighs, rubbing his finger absentmindedly along the trim of the couch, a gesture that definitely should not have your insides twisting into a coil. “I am becoming increasingly curious as to what yours might be.” The tilt of his lips gives away the mock sincerity he's using, a sarcastic stab to the dull nature of collegiate small talk. You fight the urge to grin, feeling like a silly teenage girl. It was only one shot of vodka, what the hell?

“Guess.” An unoriginal response, but he leans back and strokes an imaginary beard, looking to the ceiling as if he was consulting the gods of career choices.

After a moment, he snaps his fingers and points at you.

“Culinary arts?”

“Close. Psychology.”

He bursts out laughing at your blatant lie, and you don't think you've ever heard a sound more disarming.

There is no way it was just vodka in your red solo cup.

“Have you been psychoanalyzing me?” He says with a glint in his eyes as he narrows them.

“I can't help it,” you laugh.

“Tell me.” His voice was so clear despite it being barely above a whisper.

“You just want to know how you're perceived by a stranger, don't you?”

His jaw drops open in awe. “You really are a psych major, huh?” You nod your head and let a laugh slip out again.

“So what have you gathered about me then?” He leans closer again, quieting his voice even more just in case anyone could hear him over the raging bass of the speakers.

“Well for one, you’re quiet,” you begin, and you wait for him to open his mouth(probably to argue that that’s obvious) to continue, “but it’s not because you’re shy. You’re reserved, probably choosing to keep to yourself in public situations because you don’t crave social interaction.”

His tongue pushes the inside of his cheek, fighting a smile, and you have to digest the butterflies in your stomach to keep going.

“And you’re observant, which is pretty common amongst introverted…?” you wait for him to confirm your guess with a nod, “Right. Introverted reserved guys that get caught people watching at parties.”

“I was not!” He argues, scrunching his nose in defiance.

“How’d you know what was in my cup then?”

“Oh that?” He nods his head over to the strawberry blonde that has the kitchen on lock, entertaining practically every girl within earshot of him. “Jaemin makes the same drink for every new girl he meets.”

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A vodka cranberry?”

“With a splash of lime,” he adds, rolling his eyes. “He insists it elevates the drink.”

“Does he know it’s a house party?"

“Shh, he doesn’t need to know that.”

You’re both laughing, with heads so close that if it weren’t for the decibel levels of the party, you’d be sweating buckets at his proximity.

“You’re good though,” he says, sighing, and when he sees your confused stare he elaborates, “your psychoanalysis, I mean. That was pretty spot on.” You shake your head, waving him off with your free hand.

“That was nothing– I’d rather see you try,” you subtly challenge, raising your cup back to your lips.

“Oh yeah?”

You raise your eyebrows, as if you were daring him to try and figure you out.

He leans back from you, now gazing at you thoughtfully as he crosses his arms across his chest. Immediately you feel warm, clearly unprepared for having this much attention on you, let alone his. Your outfit was nothing unusual for a college party– just a short dress you felt confident in paired with a shrug that matched your sneakers –and you smirk to yourself knowing that the only piece of your personality he could derive from your clothes was well out of sight.

“I think you have a lot of secrets,” he says suddenly, meeting your eyes and leaning in close again. There was a lilt to his voice; was he teasing?

“Doesn’t everyone?” You ask, attempting to get him to elaborate.

“No, you’re probably a vault now that I think about it,” he chuckles, eyes wandering down to your neck as he eyes the locket necklace hanging just above your collarbones. “And assuming you want to go into a career where you help people, you’re always giving advice and listening to others, but don’t bother bothering others with your problems.”

He hit the nail on the head so hard you’re practically drooling.

“Who are you, seriously,” you laugh, feeling ridiculously exposed.

“Park Jisung, creative writing,” he says, swirling his hands and giving a mock bow, and you playfully slap his hand away. “How’s your back?”

“Sorry?”

“Your back. You know, doesn’t it hurt from carrying the weight of your friends’ trauma?”

When was the last time you laughed this much? “Not nearly as much as writer’s block.”

He scoffs, holding a hand against his hoodie and leaning back as if you’ve delivered a fatal blow. Which you probably did, to his ego. “So she plays dirty. I should have seen that coming.”

“Careful, I know how to weaponize words.”

“Well that makes two of us,” he muses, leaning close enough so his voice is clear again. “I’m also good at telling people what they wanna hear.”

“Is that so?” You bend down and leave your solo cup on the floor, no longer interested in its contents. “What do you think I wanna hear then?”

He pauses, probably weighing the risk of voicing his next thought.

“Mmmm…something like how from the moment I saw you at the bar, I knew I couldn’t leave this party without your number,” he says, fighting a smirk as he lifts a hand to his face to hide his bashful expression.

“Oh really,” you laugh, mentally thanking the low light in the room for hiding the blush coloring your cheeks. He wasn’t wrong though, you won’t let him leave without your digits in his phone.

Your gaze flickers down to his pouty lips, hoping he’ll pick up what you’re putting down. ”Anything else?”

“I think…” he says slowly, leaning in just enough so his intentions are clear as day, “you want me to say that I wanna try that vodka cranberry.”

“With lime,” you add, eyelids dropping as his face inches closer to yours. “The lime is essential.”

“Right. Can’t forget that.”

He smiles right when his lips touch yours, and the action has your skin nearly bursting into flames before he finally commits to the kiss.

Pillowy and soft, his kiss is slow and sensual against your lips, and immediately you feel so dizzy that you brace a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, which unintentionally pulls him closer. The second kiss is deeper as a result, and the buzz in your fingertips is not from the alcohol, you’re sure.

Pulling away with a smile on his lips, Jisung watches your reaction carefully, and you hope that you don't look half as flustered as you feel with his face still close to yours.

“Riddle me this, psych major,” he says, eyes flickering around your face, “can you tell me what I’m thinking right now?”

You don’t even have to think twice; following his gaze was enough of an indication.

Somehow, you find it in yourself to giggle amongst the tension. “You want to get out of here?”

“Well,” he grins, tilting his head towards the door and offering a hand to you, “since you’re asking…”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

[carbonfiction]

cross to bare

Summary: A continuation of line to cross. This time its you who catches Logan in a compromising position; Behind the safely locked door of your bathroom- or so he thinks. After your last encounter you feel its only fair to return the favor.. right?

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, male masturbation/caught masturbating, blow jobs/deep throating?, mentions of bodily fluids (spit and pre/cum) dirty talk, teasing?, pretty much just giving DBF!Oldman!Logan nice sloppy head.. (also known as the dreammm)

Masterlist part 1 Words: 2K (i may have gotten fractionally carried away with how bad i wanna give that old man head.. oops?)

"Well would ya look at this.." you giggle playfully as you stand against the bathroom door; little metal hairpin in hand as you wiggle it mockingly towards him.

You watch as logan huffs but he doesn't scramble, doesn't panic the way you had. His movements do slow however until they cease to a stop with a squeeze to his flushed tip; a hand still wrapped around his leaking cock while the other rests on the wall ahead of him.

"Think your real funny huh?" he pants breathlessly. Groaning quiet from the depth of his chest as his thick fingers hastily tuck himself back into his briefs; the bulge sitting heavy and still uncomfortably hard under his open slacks, shamelessly attracting your eyes.

You nod in response, a mischievous grin spreading over your lips and Logan watches as you pad through the doorway. The hairpin slipping back into your hair as you turn to relock the door.

His uneven breaths fill the echoing bathroom, pulse pounding in his ears as you saunter further in. He watches intently as you situate yourself on the counter in front of the mirror; and Its at this point he realizes what your playing at by breaking in, by catching him out like this.

He doesn't need to find your eyes to see the hunger that radiates from you. Doesn't need to hear your pulse, smell your arousal burning up at the sight of him. Logan thinks he knows exactly what your game is and it draws an assured smirk to his lips.

"Somethin i can help you with here babydoll?" he questions, gesturing between you both with a low rumble in his throat, gazing up your body.

"No-pe" you draw the word out, applying extra pronunciation to the 'p' as you exaggeratedly shake your head for what he thinks is good measure.

Logan chuckles, deeply amused by whatever plan you think your executing. it still has his cock throbbing in its confines at your gaze; but he's quick and ready to throw you off track.

"tell me" he mutters, "you still fuckin those fake cocks up in your room when you think no ones home sweetheart?”

The broadness of his question pinks your cheeks, the memory of how he'd fucked you to tears with your dildo filling your head for the umpteenth time. Logan can see the moment it flashes through your mind, how your lip dents between your teeth, legs closing tight just like the moment he'd found you.

He said it as a jab, a tasteless mock, but In truth its not like that day stopped being on either of your minds since.

Yet shaking off the delicious memory with as much confidence as you can muster you square your shoulders again. “Mhm, got a new one.. vibrates." you release your lip, a sparkle in your eyes as you look him head to toe. he just nods, eyes dark as he digests your answer, before your gaze connects with the bulge of him once more. "Anyway, looks like your still fuckin your fist too old man”

Logan throws his head back, a deep chuckle echoing around you both and he watches the way you think you've won. When he steps closer, he can practically see the confidence that rests heavy above your shoulders. Although, as always, he's ready to test its integrity, poke and prod until it has you snapping back.

He's closer now, rough hands finding your covered thighs, pushing them open to stand between them as he tuts disapproving. “Less’a that babydoll"

Logans broad torso bends forward, salt and pepper scraping at your neck. he feels your fingers clutch at his shoulders, tips pressing tight into the fabric of his shirt.

His head dips closer, lips resting just under your left ear. You gasp, breath stuttering in your chest at the feeling of his smirk pressing against your skin and you feel his next words before you hear them. "think I recall you begging this Oldman to get you off not so long ago”

There's absolutely no use trying to muffle the little needy sound that builds in your chest.

Logan smirks against your neck, inhaling your perfume as he presses a single scratchy kiss to your skin before pulling back to face you once more.

When he finds your eyes your already looking at him, a fire burning so brightly that it takes him by a flicker of surprise. He steps away, just a fraction, evaluating his next move but you immediately follow. Scooting yourself forward until your socked feet hit the tiled floor.

You walk him back so he's standing against the wall. Neither of you move for a moment, just looking each other over a minute more, until its you that shifts.

You drop to your knees in front of him, heart drumming steady in your ears as your left hand traces up his black slacks.

"Should let me help" you murmur, looking up at him as you find his open zipper with ease. Tugging the fabric down until they pool around his ankles; open belt clinking as it connects with tile. "S’only fair right..”

Logan inhales sharply, cock twitching at the feeling of your nails dragging across the haired expanse of his thigh, your lips pressing feather light on the scared skin.

"So.." He feels you breathe against his covered length, feels you mumble your next words against him over the damp fabric; Inhaling the heady scent of him that's already leaking though the fabric. "Gonna let me suck your cock Logan?"

The guttural groan that falls from him, a sound so rough and ragged, drenches your panties as his rough hand finds home in your hair. Powerless to resist the look in your eyes; the smell of you in the air.

“yeah babydoll" he breathes, adams apple bobbing. "like you said, s’only fair”

And with that confirmed you drag his briefs down his legs. His thick cock bobs hard and flushed in front of you; leaking tip slapping against his belly button as it springs free. The motion has shiny droplets of precum slathering against his skin.

You waste no time in tasting him however, plush lips coming up to the toned expanse of his lower stomach. The hair that sprouts across his skin tickles your face as you plant mouthy pecks- almost all tongue- lapping at the pre covered skin of logan's abdomen to the heavy base of his cock.

A growl boils in logans throat at the feeling, his grip tightening the pull on your scalp as you drop back on your heels to lick at his flushed tip.

You smile as your eyes meet his, wet tongue lolling out to cushion the underside of his length as you bob back and forth. The tugged grip on your hair grounding. Your cheeks hollowing; the suction of your mouth making logans cock leak needily.

The slow, spit stricken rocks of your mouth feel good, but its not enough. Logan knows it and hell do you know it- you didn't break your way in just to lazily lick at his cock like this. So you pull off with a wet pop, still licking at his slit.

"What was it you said to me? 'wanna fuck a plastic cock you've gotta at least do it properly?'." you recall, teasing a grin up at him between your lashes as you move to lap your tongue wetly against his balls until they sit sloppy against you.

You rest your hands against his thighs and the goading look you give him has him grunting; aching hips bucking forward of their own accord. "c'mon Logan, take your own advice and do it properly. Fuck my mouth like you mean it. I can take it and you know it”

Logan looks down at you then, his large free hand cupping your hollowed cheek almost lovingly as you suck him back in; enveloping him tip to base in warmth.

You even suppress a gag of surprise as his hips buck, pushing the thick head of himself past the back of your mouth, down your throat.

“God, the mouth on you babydoll" he groans, hips picking up a steady pace as he starts fucking his cock down your throat. "s’fuckin filthy, your daddy would be ashamed.”

Spit coats your chin, eyes streaming, as lewd 'Gluck Gluck Gluck's' echo around the bathroom. Logans full balls plapping heavy against you with each cant of his hips.

But Jesus fuckkk do you look a picture each time logan makes eye contact with you. Deep down he knows he shouldn't of made you cum that time up in your room and he certainly shouldn't have his cock down your throat right now; it was- is- wrong considering his relationship with your father. Yet he cant find himself to care when you look at him the way you do; the sweet smell of arousal in the air tangling with your perfume. It pushes the growing throb of his orgasm closer, feeling his balls tighten with each thrust.

"Your one to talk" you choke, the words still muffled around the head of his cock as you pull back to breathe for a moment; nails digging harder into the haired flesh of his thighs. "Feels good?”

You don't even give him a moment to respond, sheathing him back into the wet warmth of your throat. so deep he can see the bulge of himself half way down your neck. Logan groans, practically yelping out a swear at the sight. “Y- yeah, shit princess, 'm c-close"

You let him fuck himself headfirst into his impending orgasm, taking every harsh buck and thrust without a whimper of complaint. His weeping cock hammering at the back of your throat, tongue dragging along the underside vein so deliciously Logan's thighs begin to gently tremble below your fingers.

"Fuck fuck fuckkkk..just like that" he jolts, eyes rolling back into his head as he bends at the waist until your head is trapped by his lower abdomen. His head lowers, planting soft kisses to your hairline as he grunts "good girl, G-gonna make me cum babydoll"

and Its then, within another one, two, three uncontrolled thrusts that he growls, primal and deep, grumbling out in pleasure. His balls rising and dropping in pleasure as they press to your chin.

Your throat greedily swallows around him as you're forced to take him to full depth. Musky cum fills your senses, heady and thick as the white ropes paint your throat like honey on a spoon.

"Christ, you tryna kill an old man huh?” he pants heavily, pulling his softing length back from the depths with a sloppy pop. you lick over the sensitive head, cleaning him up until he's hissing.

Silently then, you help him re dress; once he's all completely oversensitive and spent. Its almost intimate, romantic- you tucking him back in and buttoning up his slacks like you hadn't just taken and swallowed his soul down your throat.

When he's presentable again you giggle at him again, girlish and like the devil you are as you shift to stand. A hoarse whimper falls from your lips involuntarily as the drenched gusset of your panties slip across your lower lips. Aroused from the roughness of his touch. You know logan can smell it, the drenching slick leaking from your empty hole, but still you rekindle your restraint, a hand rubbing over your spit stricken mouth and chin as you turn towards the door.

“hopefully not this time.. got other things I wanna do to that cock first..” you call back, hand on the doorknob as you cast your gaze back to him and then the crotch of his freshly fixed slacks.

"S'that right?" he smirks, breath coming in short bursts as his lungs crackle and heave to catch up- his legs still shaking with a soft tremor as he leans his weight against the counter. You'd made him cum like a girl- like you- and the thought turns him on more than he'd like to admit.

"Mhm" you hum in confirmation, shooting a final bright grin his way as you leave- lashes still a little damp from the tears. "Cya around.. Oldman"

annnnnd thats it!! hopefully it lives up to all the wonderful love part 1 got bc i realllly enjoyed creating this one! (im probably even open to a part 3 closer for these if thats what the poeple want!) lemme know whatcha think <333

[kanmom51]

Are you sure?! Sapporo - Episode 8

I know.

I know it's been a bit and a half.

I know it's taken me time to come here and talk about the last episode.

I've been digesting, totally in the feels, and trying to recover.

The photobook, JM's little piece of information regarding his whereabouts night before Jeju and the pic. OMG, that JK marked by JM pic. The more you think about it the crazier it gets. That they actually did that and that the photo made it's way into the book (not to mention us knowing that JM has that pic he took of JK on his phone). All quite a distraction from me working through my thoughts about the episode. A welcomed distraction, but a distraction none the less.

This last episode we got of their Sapporo trip was an emotional rollercoaster. Not only for JK and JM. The level of Joy on the one hand. Seeing them so very happy. And them allowing us to see even more of them and their happiness. Like JM said:

Thinking again about what he said here... and then going back to this:

Yeah, I know he was talking about their Sapporo trip, but you know that this isn't the first time we saw JM wanting to claim his territory.

I know I don't have to point out where JM was pointing where he was going to be writing "Jimin", right?

So, this too is something JM does at home? Just a thought, lol.

And then those two just had to kill me. I know they were both pensive and sad it was all coming to an end, but JM crying, that just devastated me (because It's JM, and JM struggles so with showing himself so vulnerable).

So yes, it has taken me a second to get my wits together and come back and talk a bit with you about what we had in Episode 8.

When I finished watching the episode for the first time I couldn't help but think:

It's the end of the world as we know it...

Well, not really, because we knew it pretty well, but for those that didn't (or wouldn't see it, or denied it, or lived in a delusion that it wasn't happening) it sure is changed.

And then we get JM and JK just crushing down all those TKK rickety houses of cards (see what I did there?) with the photobook. Absolutely priceless!!

Are you sure?! Episode 8

Filled with romance and sentiment and so much feels. Couplie feels.

This episode, is the one, out of all those it followed, to cement for us, the spectators (all spectators, not only Jikookers), that these two are... drumroll... a REAL LIFE long term ever so loving couple.

No huge ear sucking, hickey showing or sunscreen claiming moments. And yet, this episode differs so much from the ones that came before because the whole aura of it was so heavy in "if it looks like a duck and quack like a duck then it's a fucking couple you idiots, just open your eyes".

This is JM and JK just being themselves albeit Sapporo Jikook are innately different due to timing and place - Japan and last trip before enlistment made this so much MORE for the two of them, and we most definitley saw just how much so at the end of this episode.

But this is also the editors doing, with the company's ok, of course, allowing us to see so much MORE. I do believe, that just like with the hickey finding it's way into memories 2020, this episode, the editing of it, was a conscious decision of both Jikook and the company. Jikook being themselves and allowing us to see more of it. More of them. I can assure you there is much we did not get to see, just like there was much we did not see from the previous trips and episodes, but we were allowed to see MORE in episode 8.

And again, it's not about seeing sus moments, because we definitely got a few of those in this episode. We had some in previous episodes as well.

It's about the MOOD.

it's about the editing allowing for more private moments (emotionally private, couplie private, not necessarily what people love to see or think would be the most suspicious ones, the more obvious ones with sexual innuendos), moments that I am sure happened in the other two destinations as well but were edited out.

But there were still things we weren't allowed to see.

Like when a crying JM goes to wake up JK in the morning.

Too personal. Too emotional. Too private.

Beyond the MORE, it was just TOO MUCH.

And yet we did get Jikook just being themselves and us getting to see it. Jikook just BEING. And it was beautiful. It was emotional. It was intimate. It was so very special.

We got to see them react to the first episode of the show. And although this most definitely wouldn't be the first time we got to see them sit down and watch and react to BTS content, that was always within the context of BTS content and with the other members. I can think of one time we got to see them watching their own interactions during the Black Swan shoot.

But even that had them sitting apart and the whole group present.

This was intimate. Just the two with only a red pillow between them (which I am 100% they put there to remind themselves of where, when and what they are doing). JK holding on to that pillow, to prevent hands from straying? I guess it kept them at bay... at times...

So yes. We see JK and JM (oh boy JM) definitely in the feels. And the different editing. Allowing us to see and feel their intimacy.

And with all that, the whole intimate aura surrounding that whole episode we got some cute and some more obvious moments (those moments you can point your finger at and say "there you go", unlike a feeling you get from just watching the two BEING).

We got so so much in this episode.

We got their usual playful flirting.

One example of many:

I mean, really???

The facial expression while saying it, and the mostly lack of reaction from JM as well. No flinching, no "you shouldn't say stuff like that", nope... just this:

This, to me, is not stressing about JK saying this to him but more about it being said for us to hear.

And I'm sorry, but whichever way you look at it, this is not the reaction you would get from a bro who was just told by his bro to strip.

We got more flirting in the car, at the convenience store, at the accommodations, in the hot tub as well. I will get to it all, don't worry, lol.

We got the touchy.

We also have the full combo of flirty playful and touchy:

We got JM telling us 3 times he was taking and took a boyfriend pic.

We got them calling each other pet names.

We got JM talking about his butt and JK's familiarity with it...

We got JK showing off his BF privileges.

We got JK trying to uplift JM's mood.

We got JK telling us all these trips with JM have been the best of his life,

and:

We got JK totally lost, gazing all stary eyed at JM.

Fuck, that was so beautiful!!

I want to go back a second to the clip I shared - what the absolute perfect ending to an absolutely wonderful show. And that little surprise at the end.

Even watching it again now I'm balling my eyes out.

JM rubbing his shaved head... I can't...

😭😭

The one thing that gives me strength is knowing that they are there TOGETHER!!!