#and that even experienced bikers can fall.

[drasticmagpie]

all this anti-bicycle helmet talk reminds me of the 6th grade unit we did on biking safety, where the teacher mentioned that a few years ago another student had gone to her complaining about how bike helmets were useless, citing the time he braked too hard, fell straight over the handlebars, and hit his head on the pavement. His helmet, he said, cracked right in two, 'completely useless'. My teacher told him to imagine what would have cracked in two if he wasn't wearing his helmet.

[itiswormtimebaby]

Strengths (and weaknesses)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky and Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, Plus sized fem reader) AN: Bucky’s interlude. This installment is all about seeing things from a different perspective, and hopefully gaining some insight into why Bucky is handling things the way he is. Also, just a reminder that Steve is Bug’s adopted brother.  CW: Angst, references to underage sex (not explicit)/sex under the influence, smut, language, insecurities and low self esteem, unhealthy relationships, references to war/bodily harm (Bucky losing his arm), Bucky has complicated feelings when it comes to his prosthetic, 

Picks up shortly after Just the Tip

His room is dark, ceiling fan and ancient AC unit working to drive the heat of the afternoon away. You're asleep, at least he thinks you are, back rising and falling in a smooth rhythm, naked skin mostly hidden by the soft cotton sheet. Reaching out he allows one finger to trace smoothly down the soft rolls of your back, ghosting across where earlier he’d pressed to keep you cemented to the mattress. His cock stirs to life at the memory, he’d been inside of you, at least partly, he’d cum in you, he’d been so close…So close to fucking you the way you deserve, so close to giving you what you wanted, so close, so close, so-

For just a moment he’s fifteen again, fifteen with his pants around his ankles and beer on his breath, finishing quick, uncertainty knotted in his gut. She’d been a relative stranger, but nice enough, older than him by just over a year, more experienced. She’d left him with a smudge of crimson across his cheek, a hello and goodbye all rolled into one. He didn’t regret it, at least he didn’t think he did. It could have been worse. 

But then again it could have been better. Dolores, Dot, she was better. She was more than nice enough, she was kind, considerate. A good first girlfriend. Sex with her was saccharine, but in hindsight he suspects they were too young to be having it, their emotional bond not strong enough to carry their physical. They see-sawed from off to on, through many what if’s until the final what if led to the final goodbye. If he had to guess he would say she still thinks of him fondly (if at all), thoughts filtered through the rose colored haze of first love. At least he hopes she does, it’s how he sees her, a pleasant memory. 

He recalls you around that same time, not much younger but it certainly felt that way. Steve’s kid sister, Bug, as in bug off, as in shoo fly shoo, as in an annoyance. He’d loved you though, not in the way he loved Dot, but in a way that felt substantial none-the-less. He’d have done anything for you. Still would, though the motivation has changed significantly. 

He pulls back his fingers as if burned when you whimper softly in your sleep, head burrowing further into the silk pillowcase he bought just for you. It’s a silly thought but he wonders if, even while unconscious, you can feel his longing for you, how desperately he wants to love you, to be enough for you. He wonders if he would have been enough before- before the war, before his arm, before her. The lenses through which he sees her are not rosy. 

After he’d been medically discharged from the military, left arm and peace of mind blown to shit, he’d been desperate for distractions. First it was the club, then a slew of bodies happy to warm his bed for an evening, and then- well then he’d hit a wall. The PROSPECT patch on his kutte was long gone, the sex going from exciting to mundane, and then she’d walked in. She was pretty, and a real spitfire as his Ma would’ve said, most importantly she kept him on toes, she kept him distracted. The sex was phenomenal, the strong cornerstone of an otherwise rocky relationship. Bucky wasn’t sure if he saw her as his forever, if he ever had or would, but with over two years spent together he wasn’t willing to just throw it away. “We’re both just very… passionate,” he’d assured Steve after he’d come to Bucky with concerns, having heard them in a knock-down-drag-out-fight in the parking lot of the clubhouse (he swore his back nearly scarred from how deeply her nails cut into it that night as he fucked all his anger from the argument into her). 

It hadn’t been the same after that, after his best friend had held up a mirror to show him just how unhealthy his relationship had become; the final nail in the coffin was Steve asking “What if Bug was in a relationship like that, you’d be cool with it?” Bucky felt ashamed. So he tried, he tried a lot of things; he took her on expensive dates, bought her jewelry, quit allowing explosive arguments to serve as foreplay to rabid sex. He’d overheard her and her friends one night, they talked about how brave and selfless she was to love a man like him, a man so obviously broken. He wondered if that was the conversation she had in mind when later she looked at him and said; “I’ve seen all the ugliest parts of you, Bucky Barnes, and I stayed. Who else would?” 

She had a point, didn’t she? He hadn’t come back home whole, wasn’t the same man that left. Not as good with people, not as charming, not as hopeful…But he was trying. Things seemed to be improving. She stayed- until she didn’t. He was confused, he’d been doing everything right, he was sure of it. That hadn’t stopped her from leaving, calling him miserable, hopeless, a sorry ass loser- a great fuck but a shitty boyfriend. A great fuck. “Word of advice? Stick to what you’re good at.” A great fuck. “I’ve seen all the ugliest parts of you, Bucky Barnes, and I stayed.” But she hadn’t, not in the end.

A great fuck. 

You look so innocent in your sleep, even with his cum slowly leaking out of you. He carefully adjusts his position until he has you  nestled in his arms, back pressed to his chest. Fuck he didn’t want to lose this. 

He’d loved you in some capacity for well over a decade, since you became Bug, as in bug off, as in shoo fly shoo, as in an annoyance. Steve’s kid sister. But it had been ages, really, since he saw you that way. Sure, you were still his Bug but you were also a woman now, one that laughed like the girl he grew up with but that was also so…confident, funny, smart, pragmatic when it counted and silly when it didn’t. Kind, and good, and bright, so fucking bright. And he, he’s broken... That night you’d gotten high, that night that changed everything, he could hardly believe his luck. You’d opened the door for him, given him an in for something more. A better man would have shut it, would have encouraged you to find someone more worthy, but he never claimed to be a good man, he was selfish and he wanted you. When you’d agreed to let him date you first he knew that was his chance. He may not be worthy but he could prove he was willing to try anything to be, he’d take you on dates, smooth out any rough edges with mind numbing pleasure, keep you physically sated. That was the part he was good at. 

A great fuck. 

That was what you’d called him over that night to be “Please, Bucky, please, you have to fuck me.” And he would, would just like he promised, but he couldn’t- not yet. Today had been too close a call, he’d barely been able to stop at the tip, your tight heat calling him home. But he had to be patient, you’d initiated this all because of sex, if he gave it to you too soon you might not stick around long enough for him to show you he could be good at the rest too; he could, right?

A great fuck.

…but a shitty boyfriend.

[tojisun]

biker!simon is definitely something else 🫶🏻🫶🏻 when i first read your writings about him, it reminded me my dad ( when he had his motorcycle he always took me on rides around city at nights. it was really exciting for me!! he tried to teach me how to ride it but i was too scared (because at first try i fell down...)

anyway, biker!simon is the best!!! <3

omg hihi im sorry for just responding to this now!! and thank you so so much my beloved <33

and that is so sweet omg!! city night rides on a bike are an experience i cant ever explain so im glad that u experienced it!!!

my auntie is the one who did the same for me <33 even lent me her old scooter (vespa?) and i would just zoom by, feeling the wind and ahhhh it was so fun!

ironically, however, i dunno how to ride a bike. like an actual bicycle. i can never find my balance n so when she tried teaching me on her motorbike i think it was kinda expected by then that id fall too?

but omg we both didnt expect me to literally fall into a ditch my godd it was so humiliating so i feel u sm with the being scared about learning how to ride an actual motorcycle. hope u werent too hurt when u fell omg :(( and hope one day we both get the courage to try again!!

thank u sm sweet luv for dropping by btw <33 take care mmmwah

[masschase]

Horizon

Rowvember Day 5: Rebuild.

This is a short fic (1.5k words) from Dex's perspective, set in mid-2023. Dex faked his own death in 2013 in my headcanon, and was one of very few people who changed their records so successfully that not even Zinyak had him stored under his real name. He is eventually removed from the pods in one of the final waves of humans. Hopefully that's all the context needed for this!

I'm not going to do the usual description and stuff for this bc it's short and I don't want to spoil things, but it's SFW!

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

Down to earth.

That's how everyone's always described him. Pragmatic. Level-headed. Grounded. Down to earth. He was never too sure whether he liked that. It felt like a responsibility he'd never signed up for. A mould he was forced into.

Be the anchor, Dex. Weigh us all down so we can go off doing our dumb shit and know you'll still be there. Keeping us down to earth.

Yeah, actually, for a long time, he didn't like it at all.

Maybe that's why after he faked his death he was always moving around. He always told himself he was just being smart. There were Saints in so many cities now. If he stayed too long, he’d be recognised for sure. Deep down though, he wasn’t just escaping people who knew him. He was escaping himself. The very essence of who he was. Dex was an anchor, not a ship. Dex never would have left Stilwater. That Dex was dead.

He survived that way for three years until a moment of serendipity changed that aimless drift. His car had broken down for no god damn reason. He hated shit like that, shit he couldn't plan, couldn’t account for. There was no cell reception on that route either. His tendency to go down the least travelled paths had backfired.

There was a diner within walking distance. The waitress, a kind older lady, told him sympathetically that no-one really came this way. Once she’d poured him some coffee she headed into the back to see if she could find her phone to charge for him. As he'd sat there, sipping in silence, wondering where the hell he was going to go from there, the cheap plastic door had swung open like a saloon door in an old western, appropriately followed by a cowboy. Or a biker. Or both.

The only objective observation Dex could make of the man was that he was clad head-to-toe in magenta leather, perfectly matched to his long curls. He didn’t suit a drab, lifeless, silent place like this. He was bold and lively and it wasn't long before he became pretty loud, too. He immediately started talking, talking a little too much, and yet somehow Dex didn’t mind that he could barely get a word in edgewise. Because he’d left his world behind already. But he knew then and there that something about that guy was otherworldly.

He spent four years bathing in the light of that man’s smile, and yet he still remembers the first time he experienced its warmth. When he sat there, trying to decide whether to wait for the waitress’s phone to charge to make a call, or accept a ride from a relative stranger, and did what he did best. He questioned everything.

Did this guy really just happen to be here? On this barely travelled route, at the same time as him? A guy who had allegedly just come up against the Saints and lived to tell the tale? A guy from Stilwater? A guy he may well have glimpsed in the street years ago? He asked his barrage of questions, expecting another continuous stream of words in response.

Instead, the reply was surprisingly understated. Because the other man listened carefully, thoughtfully. “I guess just...” he began, and that’s when the beautiful smile lit up his features. “Right place, right time.”

For four years, they ran together. Travelling. Exploring. Falling in love. Suddenly Dex didn’t mind being down to earth anymore, because his lover’s head was so high up in the clouds and it was everything, everything they both needed. Together they were the earth meeting the sky. A beautiful sunrise breaking on the horizon, just like the ones they watched together wherever they happened to be.

But like a sunrise, it was fleeting.

Four years flew by in an instant, two more in a simulation, and now earth is lost, replaced with the closest thing they have to a facsimile. It doesn't sound the same. It doesn’t feel the same. It doesn't smell the same. One part, though, looks the same. Almost exactly. So he has to admit, he's spent every morning there ever since it moved. The first rebuilt church was used as their HQ. He didn’t go near it. He wasn’t ready to face the Saints again. He certainly didn’t know how Case would respond to seeing him alive after years of thinking otherwise.

He’s proud of what she’s become, he really is. He always knew she had a good head on her shoulders. It used to mean a lot to him to have a younger Saint around. After he quickly unpicked her bullshit it turned out she was the same age as one of his sisters. But unlike his sisters, she actually seemed to listen to his advice.

But he’s not sure he can call her down-to-earth anymore, even as he lives within the infastructure she and the rest of the Saints have built for humanity. She’s down to New Earth, or Ragnarok, or her earth. This planet has multiple names but whatever you call it, she’s moved on. All the Saints have. They've moved on with their lives. To them he's dead, and has been for near enough ten years.

His heart might as well have stopped when he processed that his partner was gone.

He’s back to aimlessly drifting.

He's a ghost now. Haunting this place.

It isn’t for anything now. Not since the town was relocated, the thing re-rebuilt. He’s heard whispers. They’re too scared to make it the HQ again after the last one was destroyed. Scared it’s an easy target. So it almost feels like they rebuilt it for nothing. No one. No one but Dex, sitting there every morning at sunrise like a recurrent sinner.

He sighs and closes his eyes, tilting his head up into one of the first warm rays of sunlight beaming through the stained glass. It casts a dancing array of colors down onto the former Saint’s face. But with that ray comes a change. A break in the routine. A slight jangle of the door.

There’s a knack to it. You have to push down the handle, but not too hard, just short of all the way down. He knows it.

Casey probably knows it too.

He turns his head towards the noise, trying to make out a shape in the glass. The dawn is still breaking, it’s not the easiest to see. About the right height; 5’9” or so, maybe a little taller with heels on. A lot of hair. The shoulders look a little broader. But then he’s seen her wearing her boyfriend’s jacket before, when he’s been watching from afar. It looks like a Boss alright.

This might just be judgement day.

Maybe it’ll be OK. Maybe she’ll just be glad to see him alive. He knows she’s not the most forgiving type, but she has a great deal of dedication for her friends. He can’t tell where he sits between those two extremes. He’s an anomaly.

He’s going to have to talk fast. He has no weapon, despite the fact that in the back of his mind he already knew she’d come one day. While he didn’t seek death, he wasn’t actively resisting it either. Perhaps he’ll make a joke out of it. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I ain’t Jules.”. The sort of thing she’d love. He’s not exactly coming up with the smartest shit right now, but he has to come up with something.

But the door opens, and it’s definitely not the leader of the Saints.

The magenta hair remains but it’s cut a little shorter. The man dressed entirely differently to how he dressed before the earth was lost. Stylish as ever, but nowhere near as colorful. Like something has been stripped from him. Ivory shirt, black pants and boots, long black coat. The stetson remains but it’s a new, pure black one, not the one Dex was never entirely keen on because it had belonged to the dead boyfriend. He almost looks like a vampire hunter.

Or... maybe... maybe a ghost hunter.

There’s a stunned silence between the two. It seems impossible. It should be impossible. But still their feet are advancing in a quickening tandem across the floor and the feel and the sound and the range of emotions overcoming Dex as they near each other make it all seem so real.

He doesn’t quite believe it. He tries to be lighthearted about it as he moves closer, but his voice is trembling. “Let me guess. Right place right t-“

He is interrupted as the other man closes the gap and smashes their lips together passionately, wrapping him in a desperate embrace.

Dex's heart and mind trade places at that moment. The former races incessantly and the latter just... stops. Stops focusing on the what and the why and the how of what is going on. The time doesn’t matter. The planet doesn’t matter. Even the church doesn’t matter, because all that matters is the earth and the sky colliding into a perfect sunrise.

Anteros is here.

Dex is alive again.

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

Look, Dexteros isn’t just a ship, guys, it’s poetry.

So... Ted if you read this, hiiiii! I didn't tag you yet but will later because I thought you'd probably read a thing about Dex anyway and that it would be a nice surprise just to see your own OC pop up! Happy (early) Birthday! xD

Tagging/crediting now: Anteros and his dynamic with Dex are very much the creations of @whoredmode

Everyone else, for further clarification, here are a few posts about Anteros’s place in Casey’s universe! There are probably gaps that I’ve probably thought about but not written anywhere but I’m always happy to answer questions!

[stevenrindner1]

Steven Rindner on Exploring the Best Trails for Adventure Seekers

Steven Rindner: The Best Trails for Adventure Seekers in Colorado, Wyoming, and California

Exploring the great outdoors can be a thrilling and rejuvenating experience, especially when it comes to trail adventures in Colorado, Wyoming, and California. For active individuals such as Steven Rindner, these states boast some of the most breathtaking landscapes and thrilling rides that attract outdoor enthusiasts worldwide. Whether you're into hiking, mountain biking, or trail running, these locations offer a variety of trails that cater to all skill levels. 

Colorado: The Rocky Mountain High 

Colorado is synonymous with outdoor adventure and for a good reason. The state is home to the Rocky Mountains, which offer some of the most stunning and diverse trails in the country. One of the top destinations in Colorado is Rocky Mountain National Park. This park features over 355 miles of trails that wind through alpine meadows, dense forests, and crystal-clear lakes. The Bear Lake Loop is a must-visit for beginners, offering a relatively easy hike with spectacular views of the surrounding peaks. 

For those looking for more of a challenge, the Longs Peak trail is a perfect choice. This 14,259-foot peak is not for the faint of heart, requiring a strenuous hike that rewards you with panoramic views at the summit. Mountain bikers will also find paradise in Colorado, with places like Crested Butte offering an extensive network of trails ranging from easy rides to technical singletracks that test your skills and endurance. 

Wyoming: The Wild and Untamed 

Wyoming's rugged terrain and vast open spaces provide a perfect backdrop for trail adventures. The state is less crowded than some of its neighbors, giving you a sense of solitude and connection with nature. Grand Teton National Park is a prime location for trail enthusiasts. The park's Cascade Canyon Trail is a favorite, taking you through lush forests, past cascading waterfalls, and offering stunning views of the towering Teton Range. 

If you're up for a multi-day adventure, the Teton Crest Trail is a fantastic choice. This 40-mile trail offers some of the most spectacular scenery in the United States, including alpine lakes, wildflower meadows, and sweeping mountain vistas. For mountain bikers, the Curt Gowdy State Park near Cheyenne offers a mix of terrains, from smooth singletracks to rocky, technical sections that challenge even the most experienced riders. 

California: The Golden State's Hidden Gems 

California's diverse landscapes provide endless opportunities for outdoor exploration. From the coastal trails to the high Sierras, there's something for everyone. One of the top spots for trail enthusiasts is Yosemite National Park. The park's Mist Trail is iconic, leading hikers to the top of Vernal and Nevada Falls. Misty spray from the waterfalls creates a refreshing experience along the way. 

For a more strenuous hike, the Half Dome Trail offers a challenging ascent with cables to help you reach the summit. The views from the top are unparalleled, showcasing the park's granite cliffs and verdant valleys. Mountain bikers can head to Downieville, known for its epic downhill trails. The Downieville Downhill is a favorite, offering 17 miles of thrilling descent through forests and along rivers. 

For active bikers like Steven Rindner, exploring the trails in Colorado, Wyoming, and California provides an exhilarating way to experience some of the most beautiful landscapes in the United States. Whether you're a hiker, mountain biker, or trail runner, these states offer a range of trails that cater to different skill levels and preferences. So pack your gear, lace up your boots, and get ready to embark on an unforgettable adventure in the great outdoors.

[reisemoto]

STAY SAFE ON THE ROAD: THE IMPORTANCE OF RIDER PROTECTION GEAR

Buying quality protection gear means investing in safety and peace of mind. Ride smart, stay protected and enjoy the road ahead with confidence.

While riding a motorcycle promises an unmatched sense of freedom and exhilaration, it also carries multiple risks. Whether you’re an experienced biker or a newbie, wearing the right protection gear is crucial for your safety on the road. This is true for basic commutes in the city as well as long, treacherous but fun rides. In this blog, you will explore the importance of rider protection gear, including helmets, jackets, gloves and more. Also discover some of the top products available at www.Reisemoto.com, a trusted brand in motorcycle gear, accessories and tyres. Reisemoto brings you Indian and International brands on one platform, so you can choose the right gear, accessories and tyres for your needs.

Why Rider Protection Gear is Essential

Motorcycle riders are inherently more vulnerable to injuries compared to car drivers since there is no outer shell protecting you. The lack of an extra shell around them means that in the event of an accident, the rider’s body is directly exposed to impact. Here’s why investing in quality protection gear for riders is non-negotiable:

Reducing Injury Severity

Protection gear significantly reduces the severity of injuries in case of a fall or collision. Helmets protect your head from traumatic brain injuries, jackets shield your torso from abrasions and impacts and gloves safeguard your hands from fractures and cuts. Even a simple choice of riding pants may greatly help in protecting your legs.

Enhancing Visibility

High-visibility gear and accessories can make a rider more noticeable to other drivers, reducing the risk of accidents. Reflective elements and bright colours on your gear can be life-saving, especially in low-light conditions.

Weather Protection

Proper gear protects you from harsh weather conditions. This is especially true for all riders who want to head up to the hills, where the weather can change drastically in a single day. Waterproof jackets, gloves and boots keep you dry, while insulated layers protect you from cold. Conversely, ventilated gear helps keep you cool in hot weather.

Comfort and Fatigue Reduction

Quality gear designed with ergonomic features can enhance comfort and reduce rider fatigue. This includes padded jackets, cushioned gloves and helmets with good ventilation. Proper gear allows for longer rides by reducing wind fatigue and cushioning the rider from vibrations and shocks, leading to a more enjoyable and less tiring ride.

Government Rules and Requirements

In many regions, wearing specific protection gear, like helmets, is mandatory by law. And compliance not only avoids fines but also promotes overall safety standards.

Essential Rider Protection Gear

The one-stop shop, Reisemoto, offers a comprehensive range of high-quality motorcycle gear designed to protect riders and enhance their riding experience. Reisemoto features European and Indian names like Tucano Urbano, Acerbis, Inox and others on the website www.Reisemoto.com. With Reisemoto bringing the best of the world to India, riders now have a choice in each category, depending on the features they want. Gear is available in multiple budgets, depending on the riders’ needs. Let’s delve into the key pieces of protection gear that every rider should consider:

Helmets

Helmets are the most critical piece of protection gear for any rider. They protect your head from severe injuries and can be the difference between life and death in an accident. At Reisemoto, you’ll find a wide variety of helmets to suit different riding styles and preferences. Brands combine cutting-edge design with advanced safety features. They offer a snug fit, excellent ventilation and superior impact protection, making them an excellent choice for both casual riders and rally enthusiasts. Also, helmets with visors and other protective gear shield riders from debris, insects, and other elements that could cause distractions or injuries while riding.

Jackets

Motorcycle jackets are essential for protecting your upper body, including your chest, back and arms. They come with built-in armour or padding that absorbs impact and reduces injuries. Jackets also provide abrasion resistance, preventing severe skin injuries in case of a slide. Choose from brands that offer reinforced materials, impact-absorbing armour and waterproofing, making it ideal for all-weather riding. These types of riding jackets are available on www.Reisemoto.com.

Gloves

Gloves protect your hands, which are often the first point of contact in a fall. They guard against fractures, cuts and abrasions, while also providing grip and control over your motorcycle. Reisemoto brands are a popular choice among riders. These gloves offer a combination of protection and comfort with features like knuckle guards, padded palms and breathable materials, ensuring your hands are safe and comfortable during any ride.

Pants and Riding Suits

Motorcycle pants and riding suits provide full-body protection, covering your lower body and complementing the protection offered by jackets. They are designed with abrasion-resistant materials and may include built-in armour for knees and hips. These pants are waterproof, breathable and reinforced with protective layers, making them suitable for both daily commutes and long-distance touring.

Boots

Motorcycle boots protect your feet and ankles from injuries while providing the necessary support and grip for controlling your bike. The boots are designed to be sturdy and comfortable and shield against impacts and abrasions.

Body Armour

For riders seeking additional protection, body armour can be worn under jackets and pants. This gear provides extra padding and shields vital areas like the spine, chest and shoulders.

Choosing the Right Protection Gear

Selecting the right protection gear involves considering several factors to ensure it meets your needs and provides adequate safety:

Fit and Comfort

Ensure that your gear fits well and is comfortable to wear. Ill-fitting helmets or jackets can be distracting and may not offer the protection you need. Try on different sizes and styles to find what suits you best.

Material and Construction

Look for gear made from high-quality, durable materials. Leather and advanced textiles offer excellent abrasion resistance, while materials like Gore-Tex provide waterproofing and breathability.

Safety Certifications

Check for safety certifications that indicate the gear meets or exceeds industry standards. For helmets, look for DOT, ECE, or Snell certifications. For other gear, CE certification is a good indicator of quality protection.

Climate Suitability

Choose gear that is appropriate for the climate you’ll be riding in. Ventilated gear is ideal for hot weather, while insulated and waterproof options are better for cold and wet conditions.

Style and Preferences

While safety is paramount, finding gear that matches your style and preferences can enhance your riding experience. Whether you prefer classic leather or modern textile designs, there’s gear that can meet your needs without compromising on safety.

Top Protection Gear Brands at www.Reisemoto.com

Reisemoto offers a curated selection of top protection gear brands known for their quality and reliability:

Tucano Urbano: Known for innovative design and robust protection, the brand offers a range of helmets, jackets, gloves and more. Their products are designed to meet the needs of every rider, from casual commuters to adventure enthusiasts.

Viaterra: A leader in motorcycle gear, it provides high-performance protection gear trusted by professional riders worldwide. Their gear combines advanced safety features with sleek, modern designs.

Inox: Specialising in premium protective clothing, Inox offers a range of products that prioritise safety and comfort. Their gear is crafted with precision and tested to ensure maximum protection.

There are other brands like Acerbis, Carbonado, Spidi, Amaroq, Mad Dog, Bobo, SMK Helmets, Sena and Motul available on the website.

Staying safe on the road requires more than just skill and caution; it demands the right protection gear. From helmets to boots, every piece of motorcycle gear plays a vital role in safeguarding you from injuries and enhancing your riding experience. Reisemoto offers a comprehensive range of high-quality protection gear for riders, ensuring that you have the best options available to stay safe and comfortable on your journey. Explore their extensive collection at Reisemoto and equip yourself with the best in motorcycle gear.

[reflectosafe2]

Nighttime Adventures: Reflective Accessories for Outdoor Enthusiasts and Athletes

In a world that’s constantly on the move, safety should always be a top priority. Whether you’re commuting to work, going for a run, or simply taking an evening stroll, being visible to others is crucial for your well-being. That’s where ReflectoSafe comes in with its innovative reflective accessories designed to keep you safe and stylish.

Our Reflective Gear Collection includes a range of accessories that not only enhance your visibility but also reflect your commitment to safety. From reflective armbands to stylish reflective laces, we’ve got you covered. These accessories are not just functional; they’re also a fashion statement, allowing you to express your commitment to safety in a trendy way.

Safety First: Reflective Gear for Visibility

The importance of visibility during nighttime activities.

Reflective clothing and accessories for runners, cyclists, and hikers.

How reflective elements enhance safety in low-light conditions.

Illuminate Your Run: Reflective Running Gear

Reflective running shoes and clothing to keep you visible on the jogging trail.

The latest innovations in reflective running gear.

How reflective accessories contribute to a runner’s performance and safety.

Cycling in the Moonlight: Reflective Accessories for Bikers

The thrill of nighttime cycling and its challenges.

Reflective bike helmets, clothing, and accessories for cyclists.

Tips for a safe and enjoyable nighttime bike ride.

Hiking under the Stars: Illuminated Trails with Reflective Accessories

The allure of hiking at night and experiencing nature in a different light.

Reflective hiking gear, backpacks, and accessories.

Stories and experiences of nighttime hikers and the importance of visibility.

Nighttime Adventure Style: Beyond Safety

How reflective accessories can be fashionable and functional.

Stylish reflective clothing options for the fashion-forward adventurer.

Balancing aesthetics and safety in nighttime adventure attire.

DIY Reflective Projects: Personalizing Your Gear

Creative ways to add reflective elements to your existing gear.

                  –     DIY projects for making your accessories stand out.

                  –     Engaging in reflective gear customization as a hobby.

Conclusion:

As the sun sets and darkness falls, there’s a whole new world awaiting those who dare to venture out. Embrace the night with reflective accessories that not only enhance safety but also add a touch of flair to your nighttime adventures. Illuminate your path, be seen, and make every nighttime escapade a memorable experience.

To know more: https://reflectosafe.com/blog/nighttime-adventures-reflective-accessories-for-outdoor-enthusiasts-and-athletes/

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 4a

*Warning Adult Content*

Phone Number - Part 1

- Knox -

Knox didn't get any sleep last night because Everett didn't get any sleep last night.

The boy tossed and turned until a few hours before sunrise.

At one point, he screamed himself awake because of a nightmare.

More are bound to follow, given what all he experienced in the past twenty-four hours.

Knox couldn't help but pity his temporary roommate, enough to buy Everett a new charger so he can finally use that damn phone of his.

"I don't care who you reach out to, just don't reveal your location."

Knox tosses the yellow Dollar Store bag at Everett after entering his bedroom.

"Has Josie stopped by? I ran into her while I was on my out and she told me she had something for you."

Everett nods from the bed, quick to unbox the phone charger.

"She delivered a few toiletries shortly after you left. My skin was desperate for some lotion and it felt great to brush the stank out of my mouth. I'll never take toothbrushes for granted again."

"Yeah, because your breath smelled like..."

"Fuck off, you big panda. I didn't ask for your snarky commentary."

Knox's head falls backward as he laughs.

He shouldn't find Everett to be this amusing but he does.

Too much, if he's being honest.

Perhaps the way Everett carries himself is to blame.

His looks make him appear sweet and innocent but when set off, his mouth runs exactly like a filthy sailor's.

He's cute but deadly.

The absolute worst kind to fall for.

"Was that supposed to hurt my feelings or something?"

Knox removes his beat-up leather jacket and kicks off his shoes before joining Everett on the bed, taking a seat at the foot of it.

"It doesn't, by the way. Pandas are one of the most beloved animals on the planet. Everyone is a fan of pandas."

"Yeah, well, I'm not everyone," Everett mutters.

"In fact, I think they're extremely overrated."

Knox laughs again.

"Fuckin' liar. You couldn't even look me in the eyes when you said that."

"Don't you have someplace else to be?" Everett replies sharply, meeting Knox's playful gaze.

"No," Knox says. "Getting under your skin is far more entertaining.

"God, you're so annoying."

Everett plugs the charger into the wall outlet beside the nightstand and hooks his phone up to it,  struggling to keep from smiling.

"I prefer this version of you over the one who almost strangled me to death. Are you always this hot and cold with the people you kidnap?"

Knox purposefully avoids answering the question because his targets are usually dead by this point.

"Why panda?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes. I'm very curious to hear why you matched me to one of the most adorable animals in the..."

"Okay, enough." Everett rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching and wanting badly to rise. "You're dressed in black and white, and you're about the size of a pregnant one..."

They both chuckle at that.

"It was honestly the first thing to pop into my head as I watched you get dressed this morning."

"I thought you were still asleep then."

"I'm pretty good at faking it when I want to."

Knox bit back the inappropriate comment he wanted to make and instead allowed a comfortable silence to settle between them.

He responded to a few texts while Everett checked in with his people.

Knox appreciated the lie Everett told his parents in claiming he had spent the night with a boyfriend.

If only Shaun were still alive, Everett definitely would've been with him.

The what-ifs leave Knox feeling unsettled, so he quickly brushes them off.

The life that Shaun lived would've eventually caught up with them both.

It was only a matter of time before Everett witnessed firsthand just how cruel life was for a biker.

Going forward, Knox secretly hopes the boy will think twice about dating men that are no good for him.

Not that he should fucking care.

"My friends knew about Shaun and I being together."

Everett frowns while looking at old texts sent from Shaun, most of them flirty one-liners.

"They've sent me a thousand questions asking if I knew more about what happened. I assume they watched the news from last night."

"What did you tell them?" Knox asks.

Everett sighs, shaking his head as he deletes his conversation with Shaun.

"I hate lying to them."

"I know it's hard, but it's for their own good."

Knox drags a hand through his hair and exhales a heavy breath.

Since when did he become so... nice?

"You seem like a decent kid, Everett. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess..."

A loud knock at the door makes Everett jump from his spot on the bed, effectively ending the conversation.

Knox doesn't move an inch.

"Who the fuck is it?" Knox growls, his demeanor doing a complete 180.

"The owner of the house," Gavin replies. "Come out here for a minute. We need to talk about the kid."

Everett reaches for Knox without thinking twice, one hand gripping Knox's left arm with enough force to leave behind an imprint.

The boy's light brown eyes are glowing bright with fear and his bottom lip is back to trembling.

Knox instinctively leans in closer, almost as if he's no longer in control of his body.

"Please don't let him hurt me," Everett whispers with a panicked voice.

"I won't say a word to anybody about anything, I swear. You have to believe..."

"I do. I believe you, Everett. You're safe with me, alright? I've got you."

"You promise?"

" I promise."

Everett nods and drops his hand, allowing Knox to stand and crack open the door.

Gavin doesn't peer inside being nosy, merely laughs at how ridiculous his newly appointed Enforcer is acting.

Must be something in the water.

"What's up?" Knox asks.

"I'll tell you as soon as you get your ass out here," Gavin says. "Or would you prefer the kid hears everything?"

[alencooperus]

Accessorizing with Shearling Jackets this Winter

Introduction

The prehistoric past brings back the dressing idea of using animal skin to endure the icy climate of the present. Hence, the winters of this ultra-modern century can be made outstanding by utilizing the heritage wisdom that was passed down from the very early old stone age. Being that ancient sometimes yields preciousness, Paleolithic warm clothing continues to be a gem and rather remains unsurpassed even by modern fashion inventions in terms of functionality. Being in line with it, re-inventing the sheepskin and shearling coats - a polished and styled version of young lamb and sheepskin pelts that remained the standards of covering onself starting from the Old Stone Age. The concept has roots in antiquity and, with some remodeling and style ideas, is brought up to cutting-edge winter fashions. With the unifying goal of protecting against dreadful frigid weather, it is currently known by a variety of names and designs.

As rooted by primitive folks, genuine sheepskin or shearling outerwear provides unmatched warmth retention and cold weather resistance. It was the only clothing that could successfully prove its effectiveness being on the ice. Consequently, single-handedly, premium sheepskin jackets can provide enough protection for oneself. It appears hefty, yet its warmth retention, and luxury both go unrivaled. Although, its weight appears to diminish once the original shearling wool's soft, and spongy texture is experienced.

Therefore, to reignite the desire of putting lambskin pelts to use once again, several shearling coat and jacket outfit suggestions are summarized below.

Accessorizing to reflect dress codes

Starting with the various styles in general, Shearling jackets pinnacle their supremacy in the casual, semi-formal, and formal attire subcategories. Casual styles come with elasticized bombers along the hemline and cuffs. Also, one can unveil the true definition of a daily casual by pairing a distressed type burned-out finished shearling outerwear with skinny jeans or baggy trousers. A perfect sense of everyday casual by heritage shearling makes the most regal statement to the current trend.

Semi-formal mandarin collared sheepskin bombers work wonders once twined with corduroy pants. The prestigious tag of their style variations stems from basic, yet vivid finishing types such as Suede, Silky crackle, or vintage.

The most exquisite belted long coats and waist-length buttoned jackets characterize the authentic formal attire, which moves with the formal Shearling coats and jackets with Nappa finishes. Their distinctive designs accentuate the official appearance and make an adequate pair-up with formal pants.  

Accessorizing to reflect purposes

Besides the workday and daily casuals, sheepskin and shearling outerwear make way to preserve their functionality. In addition to their well-regarded capacity to guard against the cold, they are available in a variety of patterns to serve a variety of purposes. When taking long, arduous drives, motorcycle, and biker jackets with a Merino wool collar capture the sensuality. Detachable hooded snug jackets that are appropriate for exceptionally chilly winter days and nights define the genre. One such example is a sheepskin bomber coats in USA with a fox fur collar and Merino wool hood. The utility is extended until early spring or on the other side pulled from late fall by donning the sunny-winter special collection of vests with buckled collars.

Accessorizing to reflect Themes 

Although there is a lot of information on usefulness and comfort, clothing only never goes about wrapping and feeling cozy. To the glory, Shearling has made a legend and also is certain to impose an impact on the fashion industry with its appearance in this highly competitive trendsetting sector. The most opulent double-breasted long sheepskin jackets for parties steal the show. They are never out of style, and everything is processed and detailed to a high standard. Hardware belts and buckles create a new party-style outfit, whereas long coats with extended soft merino fur detailing captivate hearts with their exceptional charm.

Rest, funky and fancy styles are nevertheless compromised and held stiff attributable to the double collar waist-length shearling, or pea-length frilled and baggy coats. However, significantly, shearling crop jackets with frills and hardware embellishments shape the jazziest dressing category.

Accessorizing to reflect moderately sophisticated

Lastly, a consequential portion of the shearling collection calls attention to the regular jackets which exude a decent appearance. The segment is led by standard blazers and coats with premium button closures and basic front pockets.  Although they lack frills and flourishes, they yet fit into the contemporary imperial genre owing to their magnificent entice. And so they are donned to cast their subtle splendor.  The best thing about them is that they may be worn to any event, in any attire, and even with any theme without degrading the style statement. Dressing with the cited category never makes tatememt go odd.

Conclusion:

Shearling Jackets, in particular, are considered a classic and everlasting piece of outerwear that remains evergreen in the fashion brand. Whether they are new or antique, these coats stand to be amazing. The best men’s and women’s shearling coats are not only a piece of style but also essential cold-weather breathable armor.  Original sheepskin or shearling pelt’s durability and resistance to the frigid weather are praiseworthy.

It is simpler to have a Shearling piece on every drawer of a closet for every conceivable event since they are available in a wide range of styles. Other clothing fashion might fade with the transition trend, but authentic shearling is a never dying vogue irrespective of its pattern and design. They elude a quintessential charm with a majestic tag of a one-time-investment.

[windsorhelmets]

Have you ever used Windsor’s fashionable bicycle helmets?

Yes! A two-wheeler should wear a helmet since it lowers the accident rate. In most cases, no helmet is worn. Windsor offers fashionable helmets in a variety of price points.

Why are helmets required to be worn?

Bike helmets may be an essential component of passenger and rider safety. Unfortunately, people frequently forget to wear these protective headgears, which leads to risky incidents.

You ought to use a bike helmet because:

Keep your mind and body safe.

One of the leading causes of fatalities and some brain injuries for bikers among site visitors are head injuries. According to the national dual carriageway visitors protection management, bicycle helmets can reduce head and brain injuries by up to 88 percent. Due to this fact, wearing a helmet is the only practical way to reduce your risk of suffering a fatal or serious brain damage.

Block the wind

We quickly feel the wind on our faces after getting on our bikes. Under these circumstances, helmets are said to have a two-wheeler accent that keeps the wind from rushing into our faces while we are moving quickly. As a result, we become conscious of the filth, mud, and dust that are coming towards us.

Protects from the sun

Workers at construction sites are constantly exposed to the sun’s rays, endangering their health. Wide brim safety helmets are therefore seen to be the best option since they may offer sufficient protection from UV radiation. This makes it possible for people to work for a longer amount of time without experiencing weariness or health issues.

To ensure that your staff are completely safe, make sure the safety helmets are in good shape. Make sure they must fit perfectly. Even if hearing protection is required at work, employees should always wear safety helmets. You may also get helmets with incorporated hearing protection.

Observing the Law

Ordinarily, laws are made to protect large numbers of people from danger. The safety of the populace is given first priority. The law is tight in many nations; if you don’t wear a helmet, you lose your license. Its social control, nevertheless, happens later.

Providing a Model

It’s not just important for your own safety and the protection of your friends, family, and children that you wear a helmet. You raise awareness by introducing the use of helmets among your friend’s group, which is subsequently picked up on by those around.

Additionally, most group rides make it necessary to wear a helmet to ride with them. Group rides are a great opportunity to meet other cyclists in your area, discover new routes, and just hang out with like-minded people.

 Where can I get the greatest bicycle helmets?

In India, Windsor is the top producer of driving helmets and safety gear. They take pleasure in offering accessories and helmets in different sizes to suit the needs of every consumer.

1. The quiet strap lock found on the Windsor Helmet works nicely with the helmet. It contains high-quality helmets and a button that may be used as an open-face helmet.

2. While operating the motorcycle, its shell provides you with fantastic amenities. It is thin and has been inside softened with foam so that it will no longer give you a neck ache.

3. If the government decides to enact legislative guidelines on helmet standardisation, properly authorized motorcycle helmets also shield riders from paying any fines or suffering any other penalties.

4. The Windsor helmet’s liner absorbs moisture, so you may wear it for extended periods of time without it being hot or unpleasant.

5. The bike helmets are comfortable and lightweight, making them ideal for long journeys.

In conclusion, wearing a bike helmet lowers your chance of suffering a serious head injury and passing away in the event of a fall or accident since the helmet absorbs most of the impact energy rather than your head and brain. Carrying the right helmet is just as important as wearing a helmet, though. Get stylish bike helmets online from Windsor.

[almostgloriousmaker]

5 Reasons Why Wearing A Bike Helmet Is Non-Negotiable - All Bikers Should Have One!

When it comes to it, there are many different viewpoints and approaches to consider, each with their own strengths and limitations bike helmets.

No matter how experienced of a biker you are, one of the most important pieces of safety gear you can own is a bike helmet. A bike helmet is essential for protecting your head from serious injury if you ever experience a fall or accident while biking. There’s no debate that every biker should own a bike helmet; it’s non-negotiable. Here are five reasons why:

1. Bike Helmets Reduce Your Risk of a Head Injury

The most obvious benefit of wearing a bike helmet is that it can reduce your risk of a head injury if you ever experience a biking accident. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), wearing a bike helmet can reduce your risk of a head injury by up to 50%. That’s a huge reduction of risk that you can achieve just by wearing a bike helmet!

2. They Protect Your Brain from Long-Term Damage

In addition to reducing your risk of a head injury, bike helmets also protect your brain from long-term damage. According to the American Association of Neurological Surgeons, even a mild brain injury can cause long-term damage to your cognitive skills, memory, and emotional well-being. Wearing a bike helmet can help protect your brain from this long-term damage.

3. They Make You More Visible to Drivers

In addition to protecting your head, bike helmets also make you more visible to drivers. Many bike helmets are brightly colored or feature reflective material that helps drivers spot you from a distance. This is especially important when biking at night or in low-visibility conditions.

4. They Keep You Comfortable and Cool

In addition to their safety benefits, bike helmets can also keep you comfortable and cool while you’re biking. Many bike helmets feature ventilation to help keep your head cool and a comfortable fit to keep your head from bouncing around while you’re riding. This can help you stay focused on the road and enjoy your ride.

5. They Can Help You Look Good

Finally, bike helmets can also help you look good while you’re biking. There are many stylish bike helmets available on the market today, so you can find one that matches your bike and your personal style. Wearing a bike helmet is the perfect way to keep safe and look good while you’re biking!

There’s no question that every biker should own a bike helmet. Wearing

[anotherghoul666]

I-I'm supposed to be working but after reading the confessions and your answers, all I can think of are leather gloves and how nice they would feel on my skin. E-especially on my throat.

Yeah being on my blog while at work is a dangerous game you're playing sweetheart. I'm known to disable brains and fill them with filth and naughty promises, you sure you wanna give that a go while you're supposed to be productive somewhere else?

How about I disable your brain some more then, with talk of leather, and of my gloves. The ones you may be so lucky to see, or even get to feel on your skin and around your throat as you so desire, if you ask nicely. Convince me you deserve the honor of experiencing my touch through these gloves. For now though, since you can't seem to stop thinking about them, I'll give you more information about them, so you may imagine them in the details they deserve. This pair of gloves has been with me for more than a decade at this point. They are biker gloves, the ones you'd wear to ride motorcycles, that was quite my aesthetic back in the day. Leather jacket, leather boots, leather gloves, the wind in my hair and the sun in my eyes, sitting neatly in my freedom with the world ahead of me, figuring out my power. A decade ago I was building myself and these leather items, these very leather gloves, helped me reach that state.

They lived a whole life with me, these gloves. I wore them outside, during spring and autumn, until the temperature became too cold to endure gloves with aeration holes. The fingers are covered in two neat rows of aeration wholes on both sides, and also on top of the knuckles. Allows for flexibility and comfort, for heat to not build up too much within. The palm is decorated with stitching that mimics the natural lines there, sections and pads, to conform to my shape, sit nicely and flush against my palm. There's a velcro strap at the wrist, to allow me to tighten them so they don't risk falling off the hand when in use, whether while riding a bike as I'm sure they were originally intended, or during the more creative uses I put them through. I wore them in specific outfits, to go out, to clubs, on dates, to impress and captivate. That leather glove / leather corset combo broke one too many hearts, if I dare say so.

I wore them during play. To spank people with, make them taste the difference between a bare hand spanking and a gloved hand spanking, because they are two very different beasts. The leather almost nullifies the pinch of skin on skin, allowing the submissive to experience a deeper, thuddier hit, and for me to be much more comfortable delivering such hits, saving my hands, allowing me to go longer and harder. I've worn them to grab people's faces with, hold their jaws, wrestle their heads around. To shove my fingers in their mouths, have them lick and lather this sacred material with their saliva as an offering. Giving them the absolute privilege to taste the holiness of this type of fabric. I've worn them to choke, to feel them clench around something so soft and pliable yet so hard, to grip and feel how my finger pads slide and catch on the inside on them, how the gloves' texture naturally holds onto human skin and tugs at it instead of gliding on. To hear the noise leather naturally makes when it squeaks on itself and against another type of skin, one of my favorite noises on the planet. And of course, with the added bonus of noise, or lack thereof, the person I choked would make. The lucky one. And then, well, I've also worn them for messier scenes, the amount of times I've cleaned and sanitized these gloves, I'm sometimes surprised they held up so great. They're still perfect. Worn in, looser, beat leather that's seen the world and yet, hasn't seen enough yet.

Would you be the next neck these gloves grace, anon? Are you worthy of their divinity?

[mypoisonedvine]

Rough Ride | biker!Chris Evans x reader

summary: for a biker, chris is quite the romantic.  for a small-town waitress, you’re quite the rebel for falling for a biker.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut!!, biker gang shenanigans, references to smoking, love at first sight, a touch of possessiveness, vaguely soulmate au?? (because of aforementioned love at first sight), kinda innocent reader, shy reader, essentially a very fluffy pwp

The gang had never really scared you, even if the other girls working here were intimidated by them.  In your mind, having a motorcycle club frequent your hole-in-the-wall meant being more protected rather than more vulnerable.  Most of them were nice enough, even if their glances were less than subtle and they brought in the smell of cigarettes with them.  They tipped well, and what matters other than that?  

When you saw Chris for the first time, though, you were intimidated.  Maybe that wasn’t the right word.  It wasn’t him that scared you at all, but the rush of feelings that overcame you.  What scared you was knowing that, as absurd as it was, you were in love.

He sat at your table, as if he knew you’d be serving him, spreading his legs as he got comfortable and draping a leather jacketed arm over the worn pleather booth.  You’d tried to keep your cool, taking his order in spite of those crystal blue eyes piercing right through you.  Ink decorated his skin, peeking out from every edge of his clothing— unreadable words on his neck, abstract shapes on his wrists and hands, letters on his knuckles.  You watched from the kitchen as those tattooed fingers wrapped around the mug of coffee you’d served him, his neck tattoo shifting a little as he took a long sip.

“Do y’all want anything to eat?” you asked quietly, waiting for a chance to hear his voice.  His buddies answered first, ordering hashbrowns and bacon and their various usuals.  With no one else left to ask, your eyes met his and you waited in tense silence for him to say something.

“You got pancakes?”  

How stupid that those were the words that made your heart stop, slurred with a Boston accent, monotone to the point it barely sounded like a question.

You were in love with him.  Before now you hadn’t been the type to dream about soulmates, to wait for your Prince Charming to come save you.  But this guy had a noble steed you could ride off into the sunset with— except it was a Ducati, and sunset wasn’t for another nine hours…

“Hello?” he frowned.

Oh, had you forgotten to actually say something?

“Y-yes,” you finally blurted out, “we’ve got pancakes.  Best in the county.”

“Blueberry?”

You nodded quickly.  “Or cinnamon, or banana, or original…”

“Blueberry then,” he decided.  “Thanks.”

You shuffled to the back, spinning behind the saloon door into the kitchen and leaning against the wall with a sigh.  It was a miracle you remembered any of the other orders, since all you could think about was him and his eyes and his voice and those ridiculously lovely tats.

You passed the order on to the cook, taking off the apron part of your uniform so you could try to cool off for a second, only peering out to check that the table didn’t need anything every few minutes.  As much as you wanted to hide away in the kitchen forever, you could see that a few of the mugs were empty at his table and you needed to give them a refill.  

Sighing and grabbing a fresh pot from the coffeemaker, you ventured back into the dining area; of course it only took him a split second to lock his eyes on you, watching you come closer with a stare that made the silence so much more oppressive.

“Everything alright so far?” you asked, voice much shakier than you meant for it to be.  One of the other bikers asked about getting a cup of decaf, another wanted more creamer, but he just sipped at the black coffee and kept his eyes trained on you over the rim on the mug.  “Food should be out in a minute…”

You all but ran back to the kitchen; you could only take so much of him at once.  Looking at him was like looking at the sun, and looking anywhere else was like a waste of your vision.

You made busywork for yourself in the kitchen, rearranging utensils and refilling ketchup bottles.  You heard the kitchen door swing open behind you, the light shifting in the corner of your eye.

“Charlene, can you cover my table for a while?  I can’t go back out there—” you began, but heavy footsteps stopping behind you made you realize it was most certainly not Charlene.  You spun around to find him staring down at you, contemplating the way you shrunk into his shadow.

“Were you really gonna run so quick?  Make Charlene bring me my pancakes?” he asked with a gentle voice, stepping slightly closer.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” you explained sheepishly.

“I heard we own this place,” he returned, raising an eyebrow, “and everything in it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “something like that…”

Then he moved in so close— almost too close, even though you simultaneously wanted more— until you were clutching the cool metal table behind you, your eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” he whispered, “do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I’m starting to,” you admitted quietly.  And he kissed you, so much more delicate and tender than he had any right to be.  Maybe you should’ve feigned disinterest, but not even for a moment could you do anything but kiss him back, slipping your arms around his neck.  But that wasn’t enough to keep him close, unfortunately, as he pulled away much too soon.

“How about now?” he pressed, and your eyes were a little delayed in opening again as you tried to process the fact that you’d just experienced the most perfect kiss of all time.

You nodded a little, looking back up at him and biting your lip slightly.  “You never told me your name,” you realized.

“Chris,” he answered quickly.  You started to tell him yours but he finished it for you, making your eyes go wide.

“How did you—?”

He smirked and tapped on the hard plastic nametag pinned to your chest.

“Oh,” you giggled, “right…”

He leaned in a little closer, one arm caging you in as it rested against the wall by your head, while the other was playing with the hem of your yellow uniform.  “When do you get off?” he purred in your ear, his fingers brushing over your legs just under your skirt.

“Whenever you want me to get off,” you answered quickly, not even noticing the double entendre.

“Right now,” he decided.  “Your shift ends right now, and you’re gonna get on the back of my bike and ride with me.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

You stood a few feet away on the gravel while he started the engine, enraptured at the way his fingers gripped the handles and pumped the gas and brakes to test them.  When he guided you to get on the back, you tried not to notice the way the vibrations of the bike shot right through you, and just focused on his face as he turned back to look at you.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Your place.”

He chuckled lightly but revved the engine, kicking off and sending the bike spurring forward onto the highway.  You clutched at his torso tightly, resting your face on the leather of his jacket and watching your tiny little town roll by.

//

Normally this would be the time to describe his apartment, but you didn’t even notice it; you were too busy grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him into you the second he’d unlocked the door.  You’d never kissed anyone like this, or ever tried to, or ever wanted to, so you didn’t know if you were doing it right.  But he sure seemed to like it considering he pressed against you and moaned a little into your mouth.

Maybe it was all a game for him, his chance to corrupt an innocent waitress who bought his crap because she was gullible enough to believe he loved her.  You knew that was more likely than not, you weren’t stupid for all your naivete, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to believe it.  It felt so real, the way he pulled you closer, the way he kissed you— it didn’t feel like he was rushing you, since you were the one who helped him take his jacket off before you started to unbutton your uniform, and pushed him back onto the mattress on the floor, straddling him as you moaned into his mouth.

“Baby,” he whispered against your lips, something like shock mixed with pride painting the tone of his voice.

“I need you,” you whimpered, “I’ve never— I don’t usually— this isn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he nodded, “I get it.  I’ve never felt this way before either.”

He pushed your hands away from their task of opening the uniform, his thick and ink-decorated fingers taking over instead.  Your face warmed as he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, revealing your practical bra— not very sexy, unfortunately, but he didn’t seem to mind as he ran his hands all over your newly-exposed skin.

Not that you would’ve been especially irritated if it took him a minute to unhook your bra, but of course he did it seamlessly.  Faster than when you tried to do it yourself, even.

His palms were warm as they cupped your breasts, your nipples already hard but reacting further to being tweaked between his thumb and forefingers.  A shiver danced down your spine, and you fought between looking back into his piercing gaze or glancing away to spare yourself the intensity of it all.  You stammered out his name when he pinched a little harder, almost losing your balance but catching yourself on his chest.

He stopped and sat up to quickly pull his shirt off, and you bit your lip at the sight of his chest and torso littered in ink.  You wanted to trace each one with your tongue, but that would have to wait for another time; instantly he pushed you off of him and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his absurdly thick arms and grinning as he hovered above you.

“You are so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, “did you know that?”

You stammered, never really getting out an effective reply, as he reached down and toyed with the hem of your panties.  His fingers tickled your skin while he started to pull them down, excruciatingly slow; his eyes bore into yours for the longest time, dark and brooding, until he finally glanced down and watched the fabric slide over your thighs.

With bated breath, you waited for his reaction to your nude body.  He was silent as he pushed your legs apart, finally letting out a low growl as he spread your folds.  “Fuck, baby…” he sighed just under his breath.

The moment his fingers made contact with your soaked folds, you gasped; he gathered the abundant slick he found there and spread it over your clit, drawing relaxed circles over it as you fought not to buck your hips up already.  That was impossible, though, when he slipped a finger into your soaking entrance, and then another.

“Oh—” you gasped, sitting up to watch him work as if you couldn’t really believe it was happening otherwise.

Watching his tattoos disappear inside you was… indescribable.  Your head fell back as those fingers curled inside you, his thumb rubbing over your clit roughly.  “Fuck,” you groaned, “Chris, don’t stop…”

He didn’t, in fact he only pumped and twisted his fingers faster until you clutched at the sheets beneath you and arched your back.  You couldn’t exactly keep track of what you were saying, or how long it had been going, but you were pretty sure that you were doing lots of begging and that it had not been long enough to justify the fact that you were already right on the edge of coming.  When his fingers moved a little faster and a little rougher, you moaned his name before you could stop yourself.

“Yeah, you gonna make a mess all over my hand, baby?” he growled through his teeth.

“Yes,” you sobbed, “yes, I’m so close.”

“Then do it,” he encouraged gruffly, “come for me.”

You must have reached up and grabbed him at some point, because your nails were digging into his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark if it weren’t for the marks already there— hard to see a bruise on black ink.  Hard to see anything when you’re coming so hard that your vision goes a little spotty.  If you had realized the intensity of your involuntary convulsions in that moment, you would’ve likely been self-conscious about it, but you didn’t really notice since you were too busy gasping and moaning and writhing for him— and he didn’t even stop until you reached down and grabbed his wrist.  You weren’t strong enough to push him away, of course, but it was a clear signal, and he thankfully slowed down to a stop.  You whimpered a little when he pulled his fingers out of you; he hummed as he brought the digits to his lips and sucked your flavor from them.

Any other day and one orgasm would satisfy you, especially one like that.  And in a sense, you were satisfied; but in another (and stronger) sense, you needed more— you needed everything.  You just hoped that sitting up and fumbling with his belt would get the point across.

He didn’t help you this time, happy to sit there breathing heavily and watching you work on his belt, then his fly, then his boxers until you were gasping as you revealed his thick cock.  Maybe it was just going to go straight to his ego, but you had no interest in hiding your shock at the sight of it, a drop of precum forming at the slit; a picturesque vein running up the underside.  “Fuck,” you groaned, wrapping your hand around it and giving it a few slow strokes.

You yelped a little, in a good way, as he pushed you back onto the bed and kissed you deeply: it was needy, but not quite rough.

When the tip of him prodded at your entrance, you gasped against his lips, and yet you were still a little disappointed when he broke the kiss and pulled away, his eyes rapidly scanning your expression.

“You want it?” he asked— not a taunt, a genuine question.

“Yes,” you nodded, “more than anything.”

“This isn’t a fling,” he told you sternly.  “This isn’t a one-night stand.  We do this, you’re mine, you understand?”

“Yours,” you agreed with a breathless nod, and he finally pushed the tip into you.  He stopped when you winced, but you didn’t mind the sting so much— you wanted to feel everything, even the pain, as long as it was him.  You wrapped your legs around his hips and tried to push him in deeper, but he resisted.  “I want it all, please,” you begged weakly.

“Not sure you can take it,” he admitted nervously.

“I can, please, just need you inside me,” you whined.

He sighed a little but relented and pushed all the way in, still maintaining a measured pace; you sighed with relief when his hips were flush against yours.  The sting was nothing compared to the perfection of his body nestled in yours, the way he looked down at you before he kissed you again.  It was less rushed than before, less desperate as he savored every inch of you, like you had all the time in the world— it certainly felt like you did.

He didn’t pull out very far, focusing instead on grinding his hips against yours, which not only served to keep him so deep inside you that you could barely breathe but also pressed some very hard part of him right into your clit.  It was nearly overwhelming, but his kiss kept you grounded, along with his arms slipping under you so he could hold you tight.  You clutched at his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, kissing him back and moaning against his tongue.  It helped you relax a little, until your body opened up to his size and he could thrust a bit harder without resistance.  Even then, he kept it slow and steady, waiting until you whined and pleaded for more to start really fucking you.

You couldn’t keep up with the kiss anymore when he pounded into you like that, your head falling back and giving him perfect access to gently bite at your neck.  It only made you wetter to imagine that while he wore his tattoos on his neck, you could bare whatever marks he made on your skin with his lips and teeth and tongue.  Too bad yours would be less permanent.

“How’s it feel?” he asked you darkly, his voice rough but warm against your ear.

“So good,” you panted, “you feel so good.”

He reached down to grab your parted legs and hold them open wider, and you hadn’t realized that it would send the tip of him spearing straight into your most delicate spot.  Your back arched instantly and you made a somewhat embarrassing noise, but he grinned and nibbled at your jaw, thrusting a little faster and repeating the motion.

“F-fuck,” you shuddered.

“You’re— shit, you’re squeezin’ on me,” he groaned, and you took pride in the way pleasure affected his voice.  “Can feel you tryin’ to milk my cock.”

Lewd talk like that had never turned you on so much before, but it was different the way he said it.  Then again, everything was different when he did it, especially the way his fingertips were sure to leave little bruises on your legs from how tight he was holding.

“Look down,” he instructed as he sat up slightly, “look at how good you’re takin’ me, baby.”

You did, and sure enough, it was hard to believe that every time he pulled back, his massive cock was somehow going to fit back inside you again— or that it ever did in the first place.  But with every stroke he filled you to the brim, and when you looked back up, he was already staring down at you with those damn eyes that kept you frozen in place every time.

He pulled out suddenly, making you whimper at the loss as he stared down at you.  “Flip over, get on your hands and knees for me.”

You surprised yourself with how quickly you obeyed, arching your back as his rough hands gripped at your hips tightly.  When he pulled you back and speared you on his cock, it was like an entirely new sensation.  His cock was even deeper, stretching your walls in new ways as you keened and whimpered beneath him.

“How’s that feel, baby?” he groaned, already setting a new and much more aggressive pace.

“So good,” you cried, “it’s so good, you’re so good…”

“You like how I fuck you?” he pressed, like your mouth hung slack and your hands struggling to hold onto the mattress weren’t enough to make it obvious that you did.

“Love it,” you moaned, “please, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, thankfully, not even close; he held your body and pulled you back onto him in time with his own thrusts forward, the sound of skin on skin rivalled only by your constant stream of moans and cries.  

Another orgasm was well on its way, though this one felt different than the first— coming on slower but stronger, making your legs shake as they fought to hold you up your weight.  

When the coil finally snapped, you didn’t feel the need to tell him you were coming again, because it was so obvious from the way you moaned and how your walls rippled and tightened on him harder than ever.  And just in case it wasn’t clear that he noticed you hitting the height of your pleasure, he leaned down a little and mumbled right against your ear: “Feels so good when you come for me, baby.”

You whimpered and let your upper body collapse onto the bed; the dramatic arch in your back was slightly uncomfortable, but your orgasm had made your whole body a little numb so you didn’t notice.

“Want you to come too,” you sighed, desperate to make him feel even a fraction as good as he’d made you feel.

“Fuck, I will,” he warned you, “god, you feel so good, gonna come inside you.”

“Please,” you sighed, “want it all in me, Chris, please…”

He followed through on his promise with a stuttered gasp, stopping his thrusts to stay buried deep in you as you felt his cock swell and flex against your walls.  Warmth spread within you as you hummed contentedly, his heavy breathing slowly stabilizing before he gently pulled out and guided you to lay beside him on the bed.

For a moment, you feared that he’d gotten what he wanted and would either toss you out or just slowly disappear from your life.  After all, he was him, and you were you, and there was something oil-and-water about it all, right?

Wrong.  He wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into him, and kissed you one more time.  You reciprocated quickly and tried not to smile too hard.

“If I say something really stupid,” he whispered when he pulled back slightly. “will you promise not to freak out?  I mean, I know it’s impossible and it doesn’t make any sense and we just met but—”

“I love you too,” you interrupted, and he smiled back at you, letting out a sigh of bemused relief.  

“Bein’ a biker’s girl isn’t easy,” he warned you, “but I’ll keep you safe, I can promise that.”

His words were just that; words.  But the way he held you tightly and kissed you deeply made you sure that he would keep his promise. 

[writingquestionsanswered]

Tattoo Shop AU - a quick, practical guide for writers

Guest Post by lebanon-hangover

lebanon-hangover said: this is based on my personal experience with the industry only, so depending on the era and country you are portraying, it may not be 100% accurate for your setting.

Hygiene

It may not be obvious at first glance, but most tattooists are clean freaks. We work with human blood every day, and we get clients from all ages, ethnic and social economic backgrounds, with all sorts of medical conditions.

We usually mop frequently, bleach the sinks, wipe down everything, and use cling film or bags to wrap everything. I mean fucking everything. We also scrub in, and sanitise the area on the person we work on.

Needles are collected in a sharps bin, and handled very carefully. Medical waste goes in yellow bags, and both are collected by a professional service.

Used ink caps may look full, but the ink gets diluted by blood. Like you dip the inky needle into the person, but you also dip the person’s blood into your ink. These are medical waste too.

Cleaning up must be done promptly after the session. Bin everything disposable, put things through the ultrasonic and the autoclave, and sanitise the area. We may take machines apart, but more for maintenance than cleaning, sometimes we swap parts in them too.

We have two sinks, one for hand washing, one for cleaning.

All inks and needles have use by dates.

The internal dynamics of a studio

Depending on the country, some tattoo shops tend to have ties to biker gangs, and some of those internal dynamics and unwritten rules are often present.

There’s a pecking order and it’s dead serious. Basically the longer you’ve been in a shop, the higher ‘rank’ you are, you get the better positioned stations, first pick of walk-ins, etc (Unless the client is asking for someone by name). Regardless of your actual experience in the industry, like if you move into your old apprentice’s shop, they are still senior to you. If the owner or their partner is an artist, obviously they are on top of the chain by default.

We are self employed, but we have a boss. You are only making money if you are working, but you still have set work hours.

We get paid by the clients, and we pay the studio a cut. In return, there are some items provided by them, and some we buy for ourselves. Usually the chairs, tattoo beds, gloves, cleaning products, clip cord covers, masks, aprons, ink caps, vaseline, green soap, and some basic ink is provided by the shop. We buy our own machines, arm rests, stations, pedals, power supplies, clipcords, tips and grips, needles, special colours, stencil fluid…these are a personal preference, and often depend on the artists’ style.

We totally ask to try out each other’s equipment sometimes, or ask for a certain type of needle if we ran out.

The receptionist is usually just one of us, maybe a piercer, but it also can be a hired person in top studios.

The apprentice in the traditional system is often mistreated, and they have to pay for their education, have to be there multiple days a week and don’t make any money. It’s kind of like a tear them down, build them back up again thing to see if they are really serious about the job. Times are slowly changing, but 99% of them will always need a second job. Most of them are working as bar staff.

When you open a new studio, you must visit all the existing local ones and introduce yourself, otherwise you may get a brick through the window. Otherwise there’s not much beef among individual artists, they are often friends, go to conventions together and party after, etc.

The Artists

Tattooing is a fairly physical job, stretching skin is very important. We have to also keep our clients safely still, so we often use positions to pin them down a bit. Sometimes you hit a reflex point on the foot or under a knee, and you don’t want to get kicked. Sometimes you have to pull away super fast, cos they are sneezing, yawning or giggling.

Most tattooists drink a lot of coffee, tea or energy drinks.

Some people are all rounders, some have specific styles, but we recognise each other’s art styles. Sometimes we delegate work to each other, if we think our coworkers style fits the concept better. For example if there’s a person who does script well, we give them those projects.

We don’t like when people come in with designs from other artists. Art theft is frowned upon, and we work best with our own drawings.

Most apprentices practice on their own legs, and sometimes we tattoo each other when it’s quiet. Most people have cover ups, or bad pieces from their early days. The artists’ own tattoos sometimes are in a different style than what they do, but we like to collect ink from friends or colleagues we admire.

In the first 1-2 years one is an apprentice, then junior artist. At 5-8 years of tattooing, you have earned your stripes and are considered an experienced artist.

Conventions are really fun, but can be stressful. You can make good money working at one, and sometimes get awarded for it too. We can also spend a lot at a convention.

Sometimes we poke our fingers by accident, and it’s a scary thing. Good case scenario is just some random dots on your fingers. Let’s not go into the bad case scenario.

We do guest spots sometimes, just to meet new clients, and change it up a bit.

We spend a lot of time drawing up things, and designs are meant to fall on specific muscles, stretch with the skin a certain way, so they are tailored to the body proportions of the client. A good tattoo is also an optical illusion, complimenting the body shape.

Social media presence is like a second job, you need good photos, and you need to market yourself.

Tattoo ink does not wash out, so some stains are inevitable when pouring it out. Those ink bottles get stuck so easily, and we wrestle them a lot. We try to avoid it, but wearing all dark colours is a thing for a reason.

The Clients

Tattooists need to have a good ‘bedside manners’ too. We get nervous or self conscious people, and we are told personal things during long sessions. For example scar coverups and memorial pieces can be very emotional.

We have pretty good poker faces and first aid trainings. People can faint, get shaky, throw up, some have seizures, have b.o., get sweaty, etc the same way as at a blood donation event? It’s no big deal really. We sit them down, give them some water and some sugar, and re-book them if necessary. Most artists keep some wet wipes, mouth wash, deodorant, sweets, maybe even some clean clothes at work, just in case.

If someone comes in with a wild idea for a jobstopper, we would sit down and have a long talk. If they haven’t got many tattoos, we usually try to stir them towards more safe choices, offering them creative ideas. It’s like those jedi mind tricks sometimes.

If someone is undecided, we show them our own hand drawn flash sheets. Once its gone, its gone tho, we don’t use the designs twice.

Pinterest is full of photoshopped fake tattoos, some that won’t even work as real ink. Many people also touch up their work digitally on photos, so some clients have really unrealistic expectations.

We can totally tell if someone is intoxicated or hangover. It thins the blood, and they bleed out the ink, and it’s super annoying. if it’s bad, they will be sent home and rebooked.

Some folks are self conscious about body hair, their size, stretch marks and scars. Chances are, we have seen similar, and we aren’t bothered by it, because it’s work. Surgery scars, scars from accidents, self harm scars, burns, we see it all the time. We shave some really hairy dudes all the time girl, your legs are fine. Seriously. If something makes tattooing you dangerous we will tell you.

Fit, muscular people are harder to tattoo because they are really firm. Its a workout for us.

Everyone gets midnight messages about the aftercare from nervous clients, and drunken booty calls about getting inked right at this second. We have copy paste replies…

We get creeps sometimes. Stalking, weird conversations, tmi info dumps etc.

Other things to include (for fun, or for plot reasons)

We sometimes have those “oh fuck” moments. We all do, but mistakes can be fixed, and we play it cool.

Tattooing takes time. Usually 30 minutes to multiple sessions though years and years.

Healing tattoos takes about 2-4ish weeks, and your characters shouldn’t go roll around in dirt, sunbathe, swim, pick at the scabs. Nasty infections, and messed up tattoos would be the results.

If you have a strong immune system, and you get a lot of work done in one sitting, you may get a brief bit of a temperature. It’s normal, and will go away.

Its a lot easier to get seriously drunk after getting a tattoo. Be careful.

We sometimes draw on each other for practice with our marker pens.

Tattoos are inside the skin, not on top of it. Imagine a low opacity, skin toned layer over the ink, adding to the healed tattoos’ colour. Please stop making your characters skin fully transparent.

Heavy blackwork and palms are done in multiple sessions.

You can’t cover up moles, because if they develop skin cancer, the dermatologist can’t see the signs.

There’s a stereotype about piercers having blacked out sleeves.

Stencil fluid looks just like cum.

You get that annoying itch on your face when you scrubbed in, put on gloves and finally ready to go.

Some artists have a strong preference for coil or rotary machines, and they bicker about it a lot. Coils are louder, more punchy, and more traditional, perfect for lineart. They can be customised, and they last forever. They are also called glorified doorbells by people who prefer rotaries. Rotary machines are smoother, lighter, and often use needles that are pulled back into the cartridges for safety. They are better for shading and delicate line work. Older tattooists often say they are dildo or butt plug shaped, overly delicate and are for “soft millennials” only.

Every artist owns like 5 to 20 machines, and they have specific machine builders they are loyal to.

The “which cable is broken and cutting out” guessing game. Clip cords and pedal cables get worn out easily, and that results in your machine running really jerky.

Walk-in always show up 10 minutes before closing.

We often look quite silly at work. Sleeves rolled up, folks use all sorts of plastic ppe, headlamps, and we tie up our hair. Add couple of purple smears from carbon paper, and we aren’t scary at all.

[itsallyscorner]

Ooooh can I do positions with Sebastian Stan???

Omg hi!!!🖤 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like it!🥰

Thank you for the requests!! And thank you for the support love! I hope you enjoy this and my other requests (which I need to do soon)!🖤🥰 @its-izzys

💌.

positions

a/n: Decided to switch it up for this one and made the song about Seb’s feelings towards the reader:)

warnings: Some smut for you filthy animals😉

Heaven sent you to me

I'm just hopin’ I don't repeat history

It has been known that Sebastian has poor judgement in romantic partners. Now, that doesn’t apply to everyone he’s dated but there are a few who were just out of line. Everyone knew he wasn’t the best at relationships. His family, friends, heck even his fans could see through the facade of his so called “girlfriends”. He could never tell the difference between someone who’s using him and someone who genuinely liked him. Sebastian was one to be intoxicated with his feelings and loses himself in the moment. Which was probably why he never found anything wrong with the ‘candid’ paparazzi pictures or the constant posting of proof that someone was with him.

You were different from all the other girls he had dated. You were like Spring to his Winter. You symbolized a new beginning for him. Like how Spring would mark the beginning of a new season with its blossoming flowers and the awakening of animals, you brought liveliness to his cold and dark life. You actually terrified him to the core. He was afraid to fall for you because you were well off on your own. In his head you didn’t need him, but he needed you. You kept the grown man on his toes and without you he was not sure how he would survive.

Unlike the other girls, he was scared to loose you. Not only were you the most loyal, selfless, kindest, and caring person he knew. But he knew you genuinely loved him for him. He knew that you could care less about the fame, his social status, or the money. You wanted him for him. You wanted him at his worst, at his best, all parts of him. And it terrifies him that he could fuck it all up in an instant and loose you completely. If that happened he wouldn’t know what to do because he’s never experienced a love like yours. Compared to the others, he wasn’t going to repeat history and make stupid decisions, this time he was going to try and not fuck it up.

Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday

Then make a lotta love on a Monday (Ah, ah)

Never need no (No), no one else, babe

’Cause I'll be

Sebastian would do anything to make you happy. Seeing that contagious smile on your face always gave him butterflies in his stomach that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Hey Sebba?” You asked as you knocked on the wall of his home office one day. Sebastian’s eyes leave the script he had been reading for the past hour and a half as he turned to your figure leaning against the doorframe. You were cladded in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of those biker shorts that made your bum look incredible.

“How was your nap, draga?” He was about to get up from his swivel chair when you motioned for him to stay. You settled yourself onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Resting your cheek against his head you began to play with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“It was good. Except someone wasn’t there when I woke up.” You softly answered as Sebastian pressed light kisses along your neck.

“The bed was cold without you.” You frowned against his hair. The scent of his shampoo filling up your senses.

“I’m sorry, I got excited when the script came and I couldn’t help myself.” He apologized as his squeezed your hips.

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckled as you leaned back to look down at him. He stared up at you with those ocean eyes that you just wanted to constantly dive into.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you.” You jumped in his lap as you remembered the text your mother had sent you earlier that morning. Sebastian nods at you, “What’s up?”

He saw how you slightly shrunk into your body and how your arms unwrapped around him so you can fiddle with your fingers. A little tic you had when you were either nervous or embarrassed. Sebastian comfortingly pressed his large warm hand against your back as the other took one of your hands into his.

“So...um. My mom’s birthday is during the weekend and we’re planning on having a dinner party with the family.” You started as you looked at your and Sebastian’s connected hands.

“My mom said she’d like it if you came along. She wants to finally meet you and she thinks the rest of the family would too.” You finished as you glanced up at him.

You were quick to tell him that it was his choice. You didn’t want to pressure him into suddenly meeting your family. Though it would be nice for him to finally meet everyone, you had to respect whether he was ready or not.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to come!” He immediately agreed, a wide smile on his face that made the sides of his eyes crinkle. Your head snaps up to him in shock. You were expecting to find a playful glint in his eyes but it was nothing but sincerity and joy.

“Wait, you want to meet my family?”

“Of course I do, draga. It’s your family we’re talking about! They’re the most important people in your life and it’d be an honor to meet all of them.” He explained as he gripped both of your hands. Sebastian felt himself smile when he saw the corners of your lips raise to your cheeks.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Seb. Thank you!” You excitedly wrapped your arms around him again pulling him into a suffocating hug. You felt his chest vibrate against yours as he chuckled.

He hummed as he savored the feeling of your limbs wrapped around him and how elated he felt when you were around him. Wrapping his arms around your figure he mumbled into your ear, “Plus, I should finally thank your parents for creating the love of my life.”

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do

That I won't do, switchin’ for you

The aroma of spices lingered around the house after the delicious dinner Seb had cooked. You guys decided to have an at home date night since the two of you weren’t in the mood to get all dressed up for a restaurant. Plus Sebastian had just gotten back from the airport after months on end of filming in Atlanta.

The two of you were now out on the balcony of your shared apartment sipping on glasses of wine. The two of you looked out towards the city as you leaned against Sebastian’s chest. There wasn’t much talking, just the sounds of the city and each other’s breathing.

“Thank you for dinner. Although, it should’ve been me cooking for you, because you literally just came back from filming.” You turn around in his arms as you admire the man in front of you.

“No, I wanted to cook for you. You’ve been so understanding with my job and the hectic schedules. Plus we had to be apart for so long, I owe you.” Sebastian explained as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

You shook your head at him, “You don’t owe me anything, Seb. You’re just doing your job and I understand that.”

“No, I do. I get that we had our night time calls and FaceTime sessions but it just isn’t the same as being in person with you.” He started.

“You’ve been so supportive and patient with me. While I’ve left you waiting here for so long.” He shook his head at himself before looking down at you. His blue eyes now dark with longing and lust. He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. His plush lips leaving a lingering kiss on your own.

“Let me take care of you, (y/n).”

Perfect, perfect

You're too good to be true (You're too good to be true)

But I get tired of runnin', fuck it

Now, I’m runnin' with you (With you)

Sebastian laid you down gently on the cool comforter of the bedroom. The atmosphere around you two felt heavy as your lips clashed together with desperation and passion. Though the months of not seeing each other were miserable, it began to all feel worth it when you felt his touch for the first time again.

Your hands roamed his body, only stopping when they were hovering over his sweatpants, where a bulge was starting to form. Sebastian pulled away from your lips and took your hand, placing it to rest along his shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you, I just want to focus on you.” His voice was soft and quiet compared to the events that were about to go down between you two.

He gazed down at you for a moment before his palm came up to rest against your cheek. He latched his lips onto yours, nipping at your bottom lips to grant his tongue access into your mouth. Your tongues poked and licked against each other. The heat below you was getting hotter and hotter, making your heartbeat race and a thin layer of sweat to form on your body.

Sebastian moved on to kiss along your jaw and neck. He stopped at your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin until a mark began to form. He helped you take your shirt off, throwing it aside to land on the floor. He watched as your breasts bounced in your red lace bra as you landed on your back again. He sucked in his breath as he looked at you through hooded eyes.

“Take this off, Sebby.” You voice was low with sultry as your nails teasingly dragged on his abs. He yanked his shirt off and threw it to the side. He dived down to claim your lips again, his hands running down to grip your thighs and wrap them around his torso. He ground down on you causing you to softly moan as his clothed crotch pressed down on your mound.

His mouth teased your nipples through your bra. He grazed his teeth along the lace material before sucking on your clothed nipple. He repeated the same action on your other nipple. You pulled on his soft hair as you watched him concentrate on pleasuring you. Your nipples were now peaking against the lace, wanting to be freed from the material. One of his hands flatten on your back and fiddle with the bra until it comes undone. His warm tongue attaches to your breast as soon as they’re exposed, giving them both the attention they needed.

He helps you take your shorts off before removing his sweats. He shifts himself so he’s laying in between your legs with your soaking heat in front of him. You feel his breath against your core causing goosebumps to form on your arms and legs.

“Draga I could smell you all the way here. I’ve been making you wait for too long, huh?” His voice teased you with hints of dominance. He enjoyed the effects he had on you. The way you instantly opened your legs for him and how he was the only one who could make you dripping wet without even doing anything.

You nodded against the pillow and looked down at him. A smirk was on his lips as his nose swiped along your clothed slit. He pressed a searing kiss above your mound as his eyes remained connected to yours.

“Who made you this wet, baby?” He asked huskily against your heat. He felt you clench around nothing as he kissed the wet lace that covered your pussy.

“You did, Seb.” You breathed out.

“Damn right I did.” He pulled your panties off you, the cold air meeting your heat. His mouth was agape as he was met with your heat glistening with arousal. He moaned at the sight and stuffed his face between your thighs. You let out a moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

His tongue flattened against your folds until he found your bud. His mouth latched onto it, sucking and licking at your clit. You emitted a moan, your back arching, as his mouth helped release the tension that was building up in you. He hummed in approval as he brought his fingers to spread your wetness through your folds. His finger teased your entrance before it smoothly slipped in. Sebastian groaned as he felt you clench down on his finger. He moved his finger in and out until he felt you ease up around him. He added a second finger stretching you out a bit more. He made a come hither motion with his fingers as they rubbed against your walls. When his fingers began hitting a familiar spongy area, your toes curled as you hips rutted against him.

He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you down. You were a mess above him. One of your hands gripping the sheets as the other pulled on his hair. Your head was thrown back, your hair sticking to your face as you moaned at the immense pleasure Sebastian was giving you.

“I can feel you. C’mon baby, cum on my fingers.” He rasped out before his tongue flicked rapidly at your bud. Your knees had came up to your chest as the tension in your body had reached a peak. With the harsh and fast movements from his tongue and fingers, you came with a loud choking moan as your body trembled above him. Your cum spilling all over his hand. Sebastian licked you clean as you came down from your high. He kissed your thighs before coming up to rest his forehead against yours.

“I missed the taste of you. Missed you so much.” He muttered as he licked his fingers. He left some of your cum on his fingers so you can have a taste of yourself. You sucked on his fingers until they were clean of your juice.

Sebastian pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with you. One hand interlocked with yours while the other led his cock into your sensitive entrance.

“Te iubesc.” He said as he pushed himself into you. Your breath hitched as your walls hugged onto his length. You were filled with him to the brim. You felt the veins along his length and the weight of him in you.

“Si eu te iubesc.” You whimpered as he pushed even deeper into you. His eyes intensely locked onto yours as his hips rocked back and forth. His cock pushing in and out of you. He was dizzy with the feeling of you around him. You were like a drug and he was addicted to you. Everything about you was perfect. He fit into you like a puzzle piece, like you were meant for him, and he didn’t need anyone else. Just you.

This some shit that I usually don't do (Yeah)

But for you, I kinda, kinda want to (Mmm)

'Cause you're down for me and I'm down too

Sebastian would do anything for you. If he could, he would take you around the world to show you new places that you’ve been dreaming of visiting. He wasn’t afraid to show you off. Of course, he was private when it came to your relationship, but when he had the chance to show you off he always took it. He was proud to take you to premieres and introduce you to his friends and co-stars. Everyone could see how deeply in love he was with you. They’ve never seen him so entranced with someone. From the way he looked at you to how his hand was always protectively on you.

Sebastian thanked his lucky stars as he watched you lean against the balcony railing of the hotel you two were staying at in Paris. You were watching the city below you as the wind blew against your hair. The sun shined on you enhancing your natural glow. You looked so relaxed and carefree as if you’ve never had experience a day of stress in your life. He saw a small smile on your face as your fingers skimmed the rail.

You turned around to see Sebastian sitting on a chair inside the bedroom. He was staring at you, a dreamy look on his face. You smiled at him and giggled.

“Get over here and look at the city with me.” You motioned for him to come over as you held your hand out for him. He got up and took your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles. You turned around to lean against his chest as his buff arms wrapped around your figure. His head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against the bare skin every few minutes.

He could stay there for eternity. You in his arms as you both silently watched the hues of pink, purple, and orange take over the sky in Paris. You were all he needed, it didn’t matter where he was, he just needed to have you with him.

draga ~ darling

te iubesc ~ I love you

si eu te iubesc ~ I love you too 

[not-bcring]

Mondo hadn't meant to fall asleep, the biker supposed to be in the midst of a tutoring session with Chihiro, it being taken as an oppertunity to spend more time with the programmer, though Mondo would never admit it. The schoolwork was just so boring, and Chihiro's voice so soothing to listen to as she read allowed for him, it perhaps obvious that reading wasn't the biker's strong suit.

The next thing Mondo knew, he had nodded off, though unsure of how much time had passed when he next awoke screaming.

It was with a shout of Chihiro's name, Mondo having watched the scene unfold like an out of body experience, her small body slumping to the floor after trying so desperately to calm her attacker, to calm him.

He almost couldn't recognize himself, the look on his face so distant, so lost, and yet he knew exactly what had put it there. Flashes of Daiya, blood and broken bones, a motorcycle mangled beyond repair...

Tipping backwards in his chair after the shout, it took Mondo a moment to regain his bearings, to remember where he was. The sight of Chihiro's worried face...it had him scrambling back, too afraid to hurt her after what he had seen. There were tears streaming down his face, the biker falling into a mute state as he gasped for air, everything suddenly feeling like too much. //consider him broken 😈

-  ✩   「 @from-across-the-stars 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Chihiro should probably wake Mondo up. They are supposed to be studying together. Or, more like Chihiro is supposed to be helping Mondo better grasp the lessons. But revisiting the schoolwork helps Chihiro just as much as it does him, repetition a vital key in remembrance. For that, she’s as grateful to him as he is to her. If not more so— in her opinion —since a tutoring session means she gets to spend more time with the biker. Something she’s happy to admit to, albeit while not being entirely truthful about the reasoning. Mondo is her friend, of course. One of her closest… and any growing butterflies in her stomach around him is simply an aspect of that.

Never mind that they only arise around him and none of her other classmates…

It had taken a few minutes before Chihiro even realized that Mondo was no longer paying attention, voice trailing away into quiet as she carefully set down the textbook. Transfixed for a moment by her sleeping peer, honey hues studied the rise and fall of his chest, before moving to the calm expression that looked so unfamiliar yet strangely right on the biker. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the lock quick to fall back into its usual place, Chihiro smiles softly as she picks up a different book from the table. Flipping through lines of complicated code, a pencil lightly taps against her cheek as she studies her latest venture.

There’s no point in trying to force Mondo to learn if he’s too tired to grasp the material. Besides, it’s not a matter of life-and-death that they get through everything today. If need be, they can schedule another tutoring session. Poking the eraser of her pencil into a warmed cheek, Chihiro buries her face further into her notes, shoulders tense and stomach bubbling as she tries to convince herself that she’s NOT looking for another excuse to study with Mondo. It’s not like she needs to be teaching him for the biker to want to be around her, anyway. Surely if she asked he would… Then again, maybe not. She’s not exactly the type of person he seems to gravitate toward. Heck, she could just imagine what Mondo’s friends might think of her.

It’s probably best to stick to studying…

Consumed by her own internal struggle, she neglects to notice Mondo’s. Startled by the biker’s sudden shout, book dropped with a yelp, Chihiro turns in her seat so quickly that she nearly falls as well. Barely managing to catch herself before she can slip, focus is immediately on Mondo. No stranger to waking up from terrifying dreams, it’s clear that whatever he saw— whatever he experienced, has spooked him beyond belief. Uncertain what it could be, Chihiro quickly gets to work trying to soothe him. Mistaking his scrambling back as general fear rather than concern for her safety, Chihiro slowly kneels on the floor, not wanting to further overwhelm him with sudden movements.

❝  Hey- Hey, Mondo… It’s alright. You’re alright.  ❞  Chihiro softly says, loving smile on her face tinged with concern. Worry twisting her stomach, she eases herself a bit closer, planning to stop immediately if he makes any further moves back. A hand sliding towards him on the ground, hoping to eventually reach his if allowed,  ❝  Whatever’s wrong- it can’t hurt you now. Everything is alright.  ❞  Making her breathing slow and measured, she hopes Mondo will try to follow suit.  ❝  Just… try to breathe like this, okay? You’ll feel better. I promise.  ❞     「 ☆ 」