#its about saying fuck you to the way things are if the way things are isnt fucking fair. its about community and taking care of your fellows

[elswhore]

whiny sub paige being needy and desperate while you bounce on her strap.

c.w ── spitting kink. double ended dildo use. accidental call "mommy". begging. lowercase. lazy writing sorry...

there is nothing soft about the way she is looking at you right now.

eyes wide.

lips parted.

desperate little whine escaping her throat as you straddle her, the double ended strap buried deep in both of you.

you’re riding her slow the toy shifting inside you with every roll of your hips, sending sparks through your core, but its paige whos falling apart, her hands clutching your thighs like you're her lifeline.

“p-please..” she whimpers, voice high and shaky her usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found.

“faster, i—fuck, i need you.” her hips buck up trying to meet your rhythm, but you pin her down with a hand on her stomach, feeling the taut muscles twitch under your palm.

shes needy, whiny, a far cry from the confident basketball star who owns the court, and the sight of her like this, begging, practically vibrating with want makes you grin, all smug and in control.

“patience, baby.” you tease voice low and syrupy leaning forward so your lips hover over hers.

the strap shifts deeper and you both moan, but paige is louder a drawn out whine that makes your skin tingle.

her nails dig into your thighs leaving crescent marks, and she’s squirming her breath hitching like she’s about to cry from how bad she needs it.

you keep the pace torturously slow savoring every shudder, every plea until her desperation gets the better of you.

you lean down your hair brushing her face, and spit into her open mouth, her eyes widen a choked gasp escaping as she swallows.

and then—fuck—her whole body jerks her hips stuttering against the strap.

“again,” she begs, voice raw, her pupils blown wide.

“please, do it again.” the need in her tone all frantic and unashamed, sends a thrill down your spine, and you cant resist.

“greedy, huh?” you murmur smirking, and you spit again slower this time letting it land on her tongue.

she moans loud and broken her hands flying to your hips, pulling you closer as she grinds against the strap.

“mommy,” she gasps the word slipping out like its been hiding in her throat, and you freeze, mid thrust, your brain short circuiting.

paige.

the paige bueckers, just called you mommy?

her eyes flutter open wide and panicked, like she didnt mean to say it, but the way she’s clenching around the strap says she’s too far to care.

“say that again.” you demand voice husky, and you pick up the pace, fucking into her harder, the strap hitting just right for both of you.

she’s a mess now all whines and moans, her head thrown back as she chokes out.

“mommy—fuck, please, dont stop.” the word sends a jolt through you, hot and unexpected, and you’re riding her faster, chasing your own high as much as hers, the toy rubbing against your clit with every thrust.

her moans turn to cries her thighs shaking, and when she comes, its loud, her whole body arching off the bed, her nails scratching down your back as she sobs your name.

you’re not far behind, the sight of her unraveling pushing you over the edge your orgasm hitting hard, leaving you trembling as you collapse onto her chest.

you pull back still catching your breath, and grin down at her, all mischief.

“mommy, huh?” you tease raising an eyebrow, and paige’s face flushes crimson her eyes narrowing as she groans, shoving a pillow over her face.

“shut up,” she mumbles voice muffled, but you can hear the attitude, all sulky and embarrassed.

you tug the pillow away laughing, and poke her side.

“oh, no, you dont get to hide, mommy’s girl. that was a first.”

she glares, but its weak, her cheeks still pink as she crosses her arms, trying to play tough.

“i was caught up, okay? dont make it a thing.” her voice is all bratty, lips pursed like shes daring you to keep going, but you’re having too much fun.

“caught up? babe. you were begging. mommy, please.” you mimic exaggerating her whiny tone, and she huffs, turning her head away, but you catch the tiniest smile tugging at her lips.

“whatever,” she mutters grabbing her phone like shes above it all, but you lean in, kissing her neck until she squirms, her attitude melting into a giggle.

“you’re the worst,” she says but she’s pulling you closer her fingers tangling in your hair.

۶ৎ — @addl0vee @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer @d7dream @gabbyygoo @bravemode @latenighttalkinqwp @avvwritesstufff @prettygirl-gabi @yailtsv @bebitts @heartsforari @usuallyshadowybasement @authentic-girl03 @private-but-not-a-secret @evanpeterstoe @destinybueckers44 @youmeandjennessey @starfulani @cherryswisherz @bueckersworld @paiges-1vur @liloandstitchstan

[whimsicalsesquipedalian]

Some thoughts on Andor, and that final shot everyone hates so much.

I don’t. I’ve been sitting with this show for a while now. This whole season I’ve been waiting to hate Bix’s arc with the same fervour that some of the more vocal fans do. I’ve been waiting to feel the injustice done to a “strong female character” (a phrase I fucking hate by the way, but that’s an argument for another time). I’ve seen the arguments that she should have stayed with the rebellion, that she was a fighter sidelined for the sake of a man, that she was reduced to a baby-factory straight out of right wing propaganda (Jesus Christ). And I disagree with every fucking one of them. 

For me, in season two, Bix is the heart of the show. She is the ethos, the drive, the reason that rebellion matters. Bix becomes, in a way, the most important character Andor has to offer us.

Andor has always been very clear in its ideology. Blatantly so. And one of the ideals it strives to impart to its audience is that we are not meant to live in fear. We are not meant to live under oppression. We are not meant to live looking down. For Andor the heart, the drive, the reason behind rebellion is to create a future where we are free. And where love, and peace, and community, and kindness, and hope are our foundations and are the only matter of our lives. 

Andor doesn’t want its characters to be fighters. They are forced to be. Andor doesn’t want its characters to live hiding and scared and clawing for any glimpse of peace and love and hope they can get. They have no other choice. Rebellion is important. It is so so fucking important. But it is only important because of what it fights for. 

Bix is not a fighter. In Andor’s first season she is a mechanic selling to Luthen on the side for extra money. She is not struggling against the empire. She is not joining a rebellion. She is getting the fuck by and living her fucking life. And one day her connection to Cassian puts her under the empire’s gaze and she is invasively tortured and horrifically traumatised because of it. And she endures. 

Bix is, also, an incredibly important character to me personally. There can often be a narrative surrounding trauma that it should make you the fighter everyone seems to think Bix should be. That you should take your pain and terror and suffering and turn it around and let it make you stronger. Use it to beat back against the person, or group, or institution that traumatised you. That you should pick yourself up, dust yourself off, take that horror, and fight back (girlboss-ify yourself and take those motherfuckers down). And to that I say, no. I don’t want that. I’ve done my fighting. I’ve lost my battles and I’ve come out the other side scarred in ways that still hurt to touch. What I want is to stop. Is to rest. Is to put this pain down and move out the other side of it and live, finally. 

For me, watching Bix as an horrifically traumatised woman live stuck in that fight for the first half of the second season was harrowing. To see her spend her time in the Coruscant safehouse grappling with the true cost of what it means to fight the way she needs to in this war, never at peace as the life she lives and the things she must do force her to stay held in her trauma, had me aching in ways I didn’t realise I would. To see her stuck in the dark and the gloom and the cold, and yearning the whole time she is in Coruscant to be able to go out and live without having to look over her shoulder, hurt in ways I struggle to put words to.

And then, to see her get out. 

I know there is a lot of contention about seeing Bix have little to do on Yavin. And to that I will say, it’s a big show, there are a lot of characters, and she is on Yavin during a storyline that arguably should not narratively or structurally be focusing on her anyway. I know there is also a lot of contention about writing her leaving Cassian for the sake of the rebellion. That it diminishes her character to a plot beat. And while perhaps the tropes at play feel trite in comparison to the more grounded beats the show is known for hitting, this is still storytelling. All the characters are, functionally, still devices serving a narrative. Bix leaves, and narratively becomes our ethos. Becomes the heart of this story. Becomes the reason we have been watching this all play out for our two-season run. Bix becomes the most important character in the show. Because this is why we must fight. For Bix. For everything she represents in that moment. She becomes the way Cassian’s life should be if it weren’t for this war, and in doing so becomes the way all of their lives should be. Should have always been. And will be one day soon. 

She is the reason. For all of it. For every loss, for every death, for every fight. It is her. She is the hope at the heart of the rebellion.

That last scene on Mina-Rau; the gentle light, Bee playing, the table set for a community to eat and laugh and be. People smiling and content and together and peaceful. And Bix, free. Of the trauma, of the loss, of the death, of the fight. Looking up at the open sky with her child. Literally holding in her arms the life that the rebellion has always been fighting for. 

That is the hope at the end of our story -- that Bix is the one that gets to live. 

And you can pry that fucking ending from my cold dead hands.

[angelsknifeprty]

imagine being loved by me . ۫ ꣑ৎ . - e.w

jackson!ellie x reader | 4.1k words

a/n: hiiii! i'm kinda nervous, this is my first time posting something smutty >.< i hope i did a good job, enjoy!

cw: nsfw, afab reader, cursing, smoking weed, they're both high but everything is completely consensual, nipple play (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), two idiots high as fuck and desperately in love ghhhfhgfj

summary: your relationship with ellie is a recent development, at the point now of teetering on the edge of the deep end, so close to becoming something more serious for you both. with the help of a some maybe a little too much weed and how irritatingly good she looks in that grey hoodie of hers, you might just take that plunge.

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

you knew it was a bad idea, to let yourself get this high with ellie. you’d done this so many times before, truly abusing the gift that was accidentally stumbling into eugene’s old weed den while out on patrol together once. but back then you were just friends, two lumbering idiots excited over this newfound high that had you both giggling until you gasped for air. now things are different.

your relationship was still new, its legs still a little shaky like those of a newborn fawn. but being with ellie started to feel as easy as breathing the longer you spent together, slowly but surely figuring out what that transition from friends to lovers meant for the both of you.

“do you want any more?” ellie asked through stifled coughs, extending out her hand that held the lit joint. through a lot of trial and error, you had figured out what your threshold was and tended not to push that limit, your mind already sinking into that floaty headspace you loved so much.

despite this you hummed in thought for a moment, your reddened eyes shifting to ellie lazily leaning against the outside wall of her garage. she was wearing that grey hoodie that made your jaw clench every time you saw her in it, how she made something so simple look so good was unknown to you. you certainly weren’t complaining though.

“hmm… you know what? sure,” you shrug before reaching for the joint, because who are you to say no when she looks like that? you feel that familiar pang in your stomach when your fingers brush against hers. you almost laugh out loud at how pathetic it feels to still react to her this way, not yet fully wrapping your head around the fact that she’s actually yours. 

you get lost in the fluidity of well-trained muscle memory, passing the joint back and forth. and before you know it you’re getting that rush of fuzziness in your brain that brings out that dopey smile of yours and giggles with no particular cause.

ellie looks at you with an amused smile, noticing the adorably dumb look in your glossy eyes. 

“you okay, baby?” she chuckles as she observes you in your blissed-out state. you hum contently, the sound of that name rolling so perfectly off of her tongue, nodding enthusiastically in response.

her tolerance is a lot higher than yours, which you always complained to her about as if she could transfer the trait to you, so she was enjoying the entertainment of you being high out of your mind.

“y’look so pretty, els,” you sigh, ellie’s chest tightening at the way you’re looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

“really?” she huffs out a laugh, “i look like shit.” she gives herself a once-over, her hair a little messy from a busy day in jackson and her comfort hoodie thrown carelessly over her clothes.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, unable to fathom how she could look anything other than devastatingly gorgeous right now. 

“nooo, shit looks like you!” you say in a poor attempt to rebuke her statement, your befuddled condition making you fumble your words.

“oh wow, so you do agree?”

“no, no, no, wait! i messed up what i was saying-”

“uh huh, sure. c’mon, let’s get you inside, dork.”

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

things were peaceful for a while, the two of you in a cosy embrace on ellie’s bed as she reread one of her favourite savage starlight comics. you were draped across her chest, mindlessly glancing at the pages, entertained by the colourful art but not quite absorbing any of the plot.

you then make the mistake of looking up at ellie, cheek squishing against her shoulder as you admire her. your gaze flowed down the outline of her side profile like a water droplet. it started at her forehead, a place you so often left tender kisses upon. it beads down between her scarred brows, which you thought made her look so frustratingly cool, trickling across the freckled slope of her nose where it then drops off of the tip, leaving your focus right where her lips are.

your stomach flutters; the only thing your brain can focus on is how badly you want to kiss her. she wasn’t even doing anything purposefully enticing, but she didn’t have to for you to lose your mind.

ellie could feel your watchful orbs practically burning holes through her, unable to keep herself from looking back at you any longer.

“see something interesting?” ellie startles you a little as she breaks the silence, rapidly blinking at her as you regain your bearings.

“hmm… interesting is one way to describe it.” your voice has a lilt to it, the sound light and a little shy. ellie thinks you’re so precious.

“whatcha lookin’ at, pretty?” she pries, enjoying it maybe a little too much as she watches you fumble at the question, eyes darting between anywhere else in the room and what you were truly captivated by: her lips.

“ellieee…” you whine, moving so your face is hidden in her neck. your breath fans over her skin in a warm gust, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she swallows thickly. fuck.

“c’mon, i know you want something.” she’s purposefully trying to rile you up, placing the bookmark you made for her between the pages of her comic, and tossing it to the side. she was far more interested in you now.

“says who?” you weakly argue back.

“uh, says the look on your face. you’re not very subtle, babe.”

in all fairness, what you wanted might as well have appeared in a comedic thought bubble above your head with how clearly it was written across your face.

you mumble a quiet, “shut up,” ellie having you completely cornered. a low chuckle rumbles in her chest, your defeat amusing her.

“can you look at me, please?” ellie’s voice is gentle, that teasing cadence still present but it’s overpowered by something softer. she doesn’t just want you to look at her, she needs you to.

you pull away from your hiding place in her neck, bashful bambi eyes looking up at her finally.

“there she is,” ellie coos and it makes your head spin. your eyes gravitate back down to her lips, unable to ignore the magnetic pull they seemed to have. she knew what you wanted and you knew she wanted it too, but ellie just had to make it hard for you.

“tell me what you want and you can have it,” she whispers playfully. a reluctant groan leaves your wanting lips, (loving) hating the way she found such obvious joy in watching you squirm under her gaze.

you ultimately give in, the frayed rope that was tethering you to what was left of your self-restraint promptly snapping.

“please kiss me.”

so she does, her lips on yours in one fluid motion as she reaches up to cup your jaw. you sigh contently against her mouth now that she’s finally freeing you from this waiting game, melting as you hungrily chase each other's lips.

you feel lightheaded by the time ellie is gently guiding you onto your back, caging you in from above as if hiding you from the rest of the world. she was devouring you, selfish and possessive as she kissed you with an urgency that had you wondering if your lips would bruise. you were undeniably hers and ellie needed you to know it. and of course, you did, you didn’t see how things could be any other way.

it felt like you were about to burst; you could feel her everywhere. her calloused hand holding your face so sweetly, the mind-numbing kisses she was firmly planting onto your lips, hoping that her imprint would take root there and ruin you for anybody else. the way her knee slotted between your thighs with ease, the roughness of her jeans rubbing against you, leaving a tingle on your skin.

ellie had stolen all of the breath from your lungs, gasping for air as you pulled away from her, chest heaving. soft pants filled the air, sharing breathy giggles between the two of you. 

“hi,” you say dumbly, that same dopey grin from earlier stretching across your kiss-swollen lips.

“hi,” she repeats back, freckled cheeks dusted with a pink tint as she looks at you with glimmering eyes.

she barely gives you time to catch your breath before she’s leaning in to trail burning hot kisses down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, the flesh there sensitive under her loving attack. then she reached that spot, one she had discovered recently, pride swelling up in her chest after you made a noise she hadn’t heard from you before. she desperately wanted to hear it again.

a gasp of her name escapes your lips as she sucks and bites on the area, squirming beneath her as you feel her smile against your neck.

“yeah? you need something, baby?” she sounded so fucking cocky. if only you knew the way her heart was racing inside its bony cage, butterflies- no, more like a swarm of wasps invading her stomach. you looked so pretty underneath her, you sounded it too. the little hitches in your breath and your high-pitched whines had her hooked. it was like she was experiencing a whole new high as she watched you grow needier beneath her.

“need you.” your breathless plea is all she requires before her lips are back on yours, determined and eager.

as attractive as she looked in it you needed her out of that damn hoodie, your grabby hands tugging at it as a silent request for her to take it off. of course ellie obliges, why would she ever deny you?

she retreats for a moment to yank the grey fabric over her head, her t-shirt riding up a little in the process and it has you reeling. you felt utterly depraved having such a visceral reaction to the sliver of skin, feeling that familiar ache forming between your legs at the sight.

she was back on you again in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. you wanted to feel her, to bask in her body’s warmth as she drew those pretty sounds from you that she couldn’t get enough of.

“more, i need to feel you closer, fuck please-” your curious hands are creeping their way under her shirt now, nails dragging gently up her back. you watch as she shivers at the sensation, her head hanging low as a shaky breath passes her lips.

she’d do whatever you asked her to right now, grasping the hem of her t-shirt before pulling it over her head. you can’t help but gawk at her, completely stupefied by the sight. this was new, your clothes had always remained on up until now.

ellie feels on fire under your gaze, your half-lidded stare trailing over the definition chiselled into her stomach. you’re trying to add up every freckle you could see scattered across her pale skin, too many for you to count but you desperately wanted to know the number anyway because you wanted to know her.

“can i take your shirt off?” she sounds desperate and it puts you at ease being able to hear that she wants you just as bad as you want her.

“please, ellie,” is all you breathe out before she’s keenly dragging your shirt over your head. her eyes might as well be completely black with how big her pupils have grown, the weed mixed with the heavenly sight of you sprawled out beneath her enough to make her dizzy.

intimacy like this was somewhat new territory for you both as a couple. only recently was it that your eager hands and desperate touches made their way beneath the barriers of cotton and denim, a wall you hadn’t fully breached yet until now. but with how good she was making you feel, you knew you needed more.

brick by brick you tore it down, discarding each other’s clothing until you were left in nothing but your underwear. ellie needed to see you, all of you, her fingers twitching as they inched closer to your bra. she asks to take it off and you’re nodding your head in agreement before she can even finish her sentence. your back arches to give her room to unclasp it, feeling it grow loose around you before it’s being slid down your arms. there you are.

ellie is sure you’ve cast a spell on her, entranced by the sight of you laid almost fully bare beneath her, watching the way your chest would rise and fall as you sucked in breaths.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” she rasps in a tone reminiscent of the whines she would relentlessly mock you for. you were too far gone now to comment on it but you noticed, you could tease her about it later.

she can’t bear to not have her lips on you any longer, leaning down to trail sweet kisses down your neck once more, only this time letting herself go lower and lower.

a pathetic mewl escapes you as you feel her mouth capture one of your hardened nipples, arching into her as she sucks it into the wet warmth of her mouth. everything is so sensitive right now, the joint you smoked earlier still serving its purpose incredibly well. 

you would let her eat you whole if she asked, addicted to the contrast of her soft lips and her biting teeth as they began to mark the supple swell of your tits. you had barely started and she already had you seeing stars, her knee experimentally pushing against your clothed cunt with a little more force than before.

you’re positively soaked at this point, hyper-aware of the cool stickiness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear. and it only gets worse for you when ellie at last decides to discard her sports bra, leaving her in just her boxers.

she’s so pretty above you, touching you in a way that makes you feel sacred.

ellie moves impossibly closer to capture your lips once more, she can’t get enough of you. you can feel all of her, skin to skin as your sensitive tits push up against each other as she lays her weight on top of you. the feeling of her grounds you, keeping you from feeling like you’re floating away. 

you’re panting into each other’s mouths, a mess of needy gasps and whines as you try and merge into one.

“please let me taste you, baby. i need it- need you.”

you’d be a fool to say no to her.

you watch as she kisses her way down your body, cherishing you like you were going to disappear at any moment. you’re throbbing beneath your underwear, clenching around nothing as she plants careful kisses over the material.

she chuckles as you whimper in frustration despite her needing this just as much as you. she looks up at you for any signs of discomfort that may have flown under her radar, but all she sees is unwavering adoration. you’re squirming but you wait so patiently for her touch, lower lip caught between your teeth in anticipation. so good for her.

you shudder as she drags your panties down the length of your legs, not missing the string of arousal that connects you to the fabric just a little longer before ellie’s throwing them in some random direction. 

she’s face to face with your aching cunt now, almost salivating at the sight of your glistening folds right in front of her, waiting for her to do something.

“ellie, please don’t tease,” you whine, hips bucking in a desperate attempt to entice her closer. she’s truly not trying to drag this out, although she does love to tease you, she’s just completely enamoured by the sight of you.

“sorry, baby,” ellie snaps herself out of her trance, “c’mere, need to taste that pussy,” she sighs dreamily.

it’s like you can feel the chemistry of your brain changing after the first drag of her tongue between your folds, all of your senses flooded by only her and you know now that you’ll spend the rest of your days chasing the feeling.

the sight of her between your thighs is already overwhelming, her eyes rolling back as she savours the heady taste of you. you can hear how wet you are as her tongue ravages you, moaning against you as if she was the one getting fucked. the pleasure was dizzying, your hand weaving into the strands of her hair in a desperate attempt to keep yourself tethered to this reality.

“fuuuck, ellie!” you squeal, her nose nudging your clit as she practically buries her face in your pussy. her eyes open to look up at you, a guttural groan rumbling in her throat as she watches your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, brows furrowed and lips pouty as you let her have her way with you.

ellie can’t fathom how she’s supposed to want to be anywhere else but between your legs now that she’s finally gotten a taste of you. all of those longing glances and lingering touches from when you were both just friends had somehow led her here. her rightful place, she was sure of it.

she was taking mental notes of all the cute little noises she dragged out of you, noticing how you shuddered and whined when she flicked her tongue just right, clenching around nothing as she sucked your swollen bud into her mouth.

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful. can i use my fingers? please, baby, i’ll make you feel so good i promise.”

she sounds downright insatiable, begging you to let her make you feel good like she could feel it herself. she was convinced that she could, the wet patch on her boxers growing larger the longer she spent savouring you.

“yes please- oh fuck- please, ellie…”

she has rendered you almost completely mindless, dragging her finger up and down your slick folds. she experimentally pushes it inside of you, watching intently as your eyes flutter at the sensation.

“yeah, that feel good, pretty?” ellie asks in that low, sultry tone of hers that makes your stomach do cartwheels. all you can do is eagerly nod, lightning shooting through your limbs as she reattaches her mouth to your pussy. amidst all of this, she slides in a second finger, your slick helping her enter you with ease as a strangled moan leaves your mouth.

you could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. the combination of her tongue lapping against your folds, her fingers dragging against that sweet spot inside of you and the weed still buzzing in your system has you ready to give her everything you’d been holding back.

she could feel it too, the telltale clenching around her fingers and the way you struggled to form a coherent sentence. and she was obsessed with it, about ready to cum in her boxers just from the taste of you.

“els, i’m so close- oh my god, please let me cum. please, please, please-”

she pulls away for a moment, still pumping her fingers into you to keep you on that edge.

“you gonna cum for me, baby? that’s right, give it to me, c’mon.”

ellie had learned alarmingly fast just how to coax you into giving her exactly what she wants, your legs starting to tense up as she dives back into you, lips messily making out with your cunt.

you could feel her everywhere and it almost scared you, completely unable to escape the undeniable reality of how fucking in love you are with her and it’s making you feral.

“e-ellie, i think i’m gonna- fuck, i’m cumming!” your mind goes blank as she pushes you over the edge, feeling the waves of it throughout your entire body as you convulsed around her fingers.

your hips buck frantically as you ride out your high, ellie’s muffled moans vibrating against your sensitive entrance as she greedily lapped up your juices. 

“oh my god, ellie! fuck, i love you, i love you, loveyousomuch-” you mindlessly babble without thinking, too far gone to notice the way ellie’s eyes widen and her thrusts speed up ever so slightly.

you let her indulge in you until you had to squirm away from the overstimulation, your body limp and tired after she had just wrecked you. you try to regain your bearings, feeling ellie remove herself from between your legs and move so she can hold you against her.

she litters sweet kisses across your face, humming happily as you turn your head to capture her lips with yours once again. you whimper at the taste of yourself on her mouth, melting into her until your breathing starts to even out.

“you okay?” she whispers, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down your arm. you hum sleepily, nodding your head in response.

“are you okay?” you ask her back, voice soft and a little hoarse now.

“yeah, i’m okay, baby. y’did so well for me.” ellie pecks the top of your head, completely smitten as she looks at your limp body cuddled up in her arms.

she thinks back to a few minutes ago of you professing your love for her as she made you come undone, her stomach fluttering at the recent memory. she debates waiting until you’re not half asleep to ask about it, but she just can’t help herself.

“did you mean what you said? when you said that… you loved me?” she’s nervous to ask, not knowing how she’d react if you had just said it on a whim. nothing more than just words.

“i said that?” you ask in confusion. you look mortified and ellie’s stomach twists. these aren’t the butterflies she had felt with you moments before, it felt like she’d been poisoned.

“y-yeah… you said it when you finished.” you’re quiet for a little while, this worries ellie. she feels like an idiot, her palms are starting to get sweaty. did she just ruin everything? fuck, fuck, fuck-

really you were just trying to rack your brain for when those very important words had left your mouth. and then you hear it, transported back to the memory in a third-person view.

she’s making you feel so good, your back arching as the shockwaves of your orgasm slam into you. you look down at her, and she looks undoubtedly obsessed with you. she’s latched onto your pussy like she’s starving, drinking in everything that you give her. and then you say it. a raw and terrifyingly real confession of, “i love you.” and you say it again and again, chanting it like a prayer as you promised her your heart like it was nothing.

“oh my god, ellie i’m so sorry.” she almost winces, she shouldn’t have said anything-

“i wanted to tell you how i felt properly on a date or something, not while you made me cum like a fucking loser, shit-”

ellie is confused for a moment, having been bracing herself for you to tell her that you don’t love her the way she definitely did you. but then you didn’t…

oh.

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine, furrowing your brows angrily when you see the cheesy grin making its way across ellie’s face. “don’t laugh at me! this is so humiliating.”

“no no, i’m not laughing at you! fuck no, i thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t mean what you said.” you tilt your head, the both of you now a little confused.

“oh…” you whisper. but if she wasn’t uncomfortable with you saying that you love her did that mean…?

“thought i was dreaming when i heard you say it. but i wasn’t and i am so fucking happy.” she holds you a little tighter now. “i love you so much, been wanting to tell you for a while now.”

“tell me again.” your request is simple but she knew how much it meant. ellie gently takes your hand and holds it in front of her face, leaning forward to press her lips to each finger tip.

“i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” another kiss.

there’s a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t ignore and you feel so safe in her arms. floaty and calm whilst you snuggle into her side, your eyes flutter tiredly as she tells you she loves you as many times as you need to hear.

maybe getting a little too high with ellie wasn’t such a bad idea.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Are the means of computation even seizable?

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PITTSBURGH in TOMORROW (May 15) at WHITE WHALE BOOKS, and in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. More tour dates (London, Manchester) here.

Something's very different in tech. Once upon a time, every bad choice by tech companies – taking away features, locking out mods or plugins, nerfing the API – was countered, nearly instantaneously, by someone writing a program that overrode that choice.

Bad clients would be muscled aside by third-party clients. Locked bootloaders would be hacked and replaced. Code that confirmed you were using OEM parts, consumables or adapters would be found and nuked from orbit. Weak APIs would be replaced with muscular, unofficial APIs built out of unstoppable scrapers running on headless machines in some data-center. Every time some tech company erected a 10-foot enshittifying fence, someone would show up with an 11-foot disenshittifying ladder.

Those 11-foot ladders represented the power of interoperability, the inescapable bounty of the Turing-complete, universal von Neumann machine, which, by definition, is capable of running every valid program. Specifically, they represented the power of adversarial interoperability – when someone modifies a technology against its manufacturer's wishes. Adversarial interoperability is the origin story of today's tech giants, from Microsoft to Apple to Google:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

But adversarial interop has been in steady decline for the past quarter-century. These big companies moved fast and broke things, but no one is returning the favor. If you ask the companies what changed, they'll just smirk and say that they're better at security than the incumbents they disrupted. The reason no one's hacked up a third-party iOS App Store is that Apple's security team is just so fucking 1337 that no one can break their shit.

I think this is nonsense. I think that what's really going on is that we've made it possible for companies to design their technologies in such a way that any attempt at adversarial interop is illegal.

"Anticircumvention" laws like Section 1201 of the 1998 Digital Millennium Copyright Act make bypassing any kind of digital lock (AKA "Digital Rights Management" or "DRM") very illegal. Under DMCA, just talking about how to remove a digital lock can land you in prison for 5 years. I tell the story of this law's passage in "Understood: Who Broke the Internet," my new podcast series for the CBC:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/08/who-broke-the-internet/#bruce-lehman

For a quarter century, tech companies have aggressively lobbied and litigated to expand the scope of anticircumvention laws. At the same time, companies have come up with a million ways to wrap their products in digital locks that are a crime to break.

Digital locks let Chamberlain, a garage-door opener monopolist block all third-party garage-door apps. Then, Chamberlain stuck ads in its app, so you have to watch an ad to open your garage-door:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Digital locks let John Deere block third-party repair of its tractors:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

And they let Apple block third-party repair of iPhones:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/22/apples-cement-overshoes/

These companies built 11-foot ladders to get over their competitors' 10-foot walls, and then they kicked the ladder away. Once they were secure atop their walls, they committed enshittifying sins their fallen adversaries could only dream of.

I've been campaigning to abolish anticircumvention laws for the past quarter-century, and I've noticed a curious pattern. Whenever these companies stand to lose their legal protections, they freak out and spend vast fortunes to keep those protections intact. That's weird, because it strongly implies that their locks don't work. A lock that works works, whether or not it's illegal to break that lock. The reason Signal encryption works is that it's working encryption. The legal status of breaking Signal's encryption has nothing to do with whether it works. If Signal's encryption was full of technical flaws but it was illegal to point those flaws out, you'd be crazy to trust Signal.

Signal does get involved in legal fights, of course, but the fights it gets into are ones that require Signal to introduce defects in its encryption – not fights over whether it is legal to disclose flaws in Signal or exploit them:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/05/theyre-still-trying-to-ban-cryptography/

But tech companies that rely on digital locks manifestly act like their locks don't work and they know it. When the tech and content giants bullied the W3C into building DRM into 2 billion users' browsers, they categorically rejected any proposal to limit their ability to destroy the lives of people who broke that DRM, even if it was only to add accessibility or privacy to video:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

The thing is, if the lock works, you don't need the legal right to destroy the lives of people who find its flaws, because it works.

Do digital locks work? Can they work? I think the answer to both questions is a resounding no. The design theory of a digital lock is that I can provide you with an encrypted file that your computer has the keys to. Your computer will access those keys to decrypt or sign a file, but only under the circumstances that I have specified. Like, you can install an app when it comes from my app store, but not when it comes from a third party. Or you can play back a video in one kind of browser window, but not in another one. For this to work, your computer has to hide a cryptographic key from you, inside a device you own and control. As I pointed out more than a decade ago, this is a fool's errand:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

After all, you or I might not have the knowledge and resources to uncover the keys' hiding place, but someone does. Maybe that someone is a person looking to go into business selling your customers the disenshittifying plugin that unfucks the thing you deliberately broke. Maybe it's a hacker-tinkerer, pursuing an intellectual challenge. Maybe it's a bored grad student with a free weekend, an electron-tunneling microscope, and a seminar full of undergrads looking for a project.

The point is that hiding secrets in devices that belong to your adversaries is very bad security practice. No matter how good a bank safe is, the bank keeps it in its vault – not in the bank-robber's basement workshop.

For a hiding-secrets-in-your-adversaries'-device plan to work, the manufacturer has to make zero mistakes. The adversary – a competitor, a tinkerer, a grad student – only has to find one mistake and exploit it. This is a bedrock of security theory: attackers have an inescapable advantage.

So I think that DRM doesn't work. I think DRM is a legal construct, not a technical one. I think DRM is a kind of magic Saran Wrap that manufacturers can wrap around their products, and, in so doing, make it a literal jailable offense to use those products in otherwise legal ways that their shareholders don't like. As Jay Freeman put it, using DRM creates a new law called "Felony Contempt of Business Model." It's a law that has never been passed by any legislature, but is nevertheless enforceable.

In the 25 years I've been fighting anticircumvention laws, I've spoken to many government officials from all over the world about the opportunity that repealing their anticircumvention laws represents. After all, Apple makes $100b/year by gouging app makers for 30 cents on ever dollar. Allow your domestic tech sector to sell the tools to jailbreak iPhones and install third party app stores, and you can convert Apple's $100b/year to a $100m/year business for one of your own companies, and the other $999,900,000,000 will be returned to the world's iPhone owners as a consumer surplus.

But every time I pitched this, I got the same answer: "The US Trade Representative forced us to pass this law, and threatened us with tariffs if we didn't pass it." Happy Liberation Day, people – every country in the world is now liberated from the only reason to keep this stupid-ass law on their books:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/15/beauty-eh/#its-the-only-war-the-yankees-lost-except-for-vietnam-and-also-the-alamo-and-the-bay-of-ham

In light of the Trump tariffs, I've been making the global rounds again, making the case for an anticircumvention repeal:

https://www.ft.com/content/b882f3a7-f8c9-4247-9662-3494eb37c30b

One of the questions I've been getting repeatedly from policy wonks, activists and officials is, "Is it even possible to jailbreak modern devices?" They want to know if companies like Apple, Tesla, Google, Microsoft, and John Deere have created unbreakable digital locks. Obviously, this is an important question, because if these locks are impregnable, then getting rid of the law won't deliver the promised benefits.

It's true that there aren't as many jailbreaks as we used to see. When a big project like Nextcloud – which is staffed up with extremely accomplished and skilled engineers – gets screwed over by Google's app store, they issue a press-release, not a patch:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2025/05/nextcloud-accuses-google-of-big-tech-gatekeeping-over-android-app-permissions/

Perhaps that's because the tech staff at Nextcloud are no match for Google, not even with the attacker's advantage on their side.

But I don't think so. Here's why: we do still get jailbreaks and mods, but these almost exclusively come from anonymous tinkerers and hobbyists:

https://consumerrights.wiki/Mazda_DMCA_takedown_of_Open_Source_Home_Assistant_App

Or from pissed off teenagers:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/9/29/23378541/the-og-app-instagram-clone-pulled-from-app-store

These hacks are incredibly ambitious! How ambitious? How about a class break for every version of iOS as well as an unpatchable hardware attack on 8 years' worth of Apple bootloaders?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/25/mafia-logic/#sosumi

Now, maybe it's the case at all the world's best hackers are posting free code under pseudonyms. Maybe all the code wizards working for venture backed tech companies that stand to make millions through clever reverse engineering are just not as mad skilled as teenagers who want an ad-free Insta and that's why they've never replicated the feat.

Or maybe it's because teenagers and anonymous hackers are just about the only people willing to risk a $500,000 fine and 5-year prison sentence. In other words, maybe the thing that protects DRM is law, not code. After all, when Polish security researchers revealed the existence of secret digital locks that the train manufacturer Newag used to rip off train operators for millions of euros, Newag dragged them into court:

https://fsfe.org/news/2025/news-20250407-01.en.html

Tech companies are the most self-mythologizing industry on the planet, beating out even the pharma sector in boasting about their prowess and good corporate citizenship. They swear that they've made a functional digital lock…but they sure act like the only thing those locks do is let them sue people who reveal their workings.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/14/pregnable/#checkm8

[tojisteddy]

getting simon a little plush snoopy that reminds him of you so he has something of yours to take on deployments with him

I Miss You | cw: fluff, fluff and even more fluff.

“You don’t like it?”

“No birdie, ‘s a cute lit’le thing just—” Simon pauses, rubbing his face while he chuckles, eyeing the object that sat in the nailed box.

“What’s the snoopy for?”

You’d read on some blog, while aimlessly adding things to your cart, about this girl posting pictures everywhere she went with this little snoopy. You loved snoopy. Adored the little dog, had plushies around the house, blankets in the closet, mugs that Simon made your tea in, stickers— the whole nine. Simon wouldn’t be surprised if he came home after a mission and you had Snoopy tattooed on your forehead (he wouldn’t love you any less).

You thought, it’d be good to have a little something for each other while he was deployed. Your snoopy, that you sent over to Simon, had your name on its dog black tag, a pair of overalls and a cute little orange bow horribly sewed into it. It was fucking adorable, a mini you in Simons eyes.

“It’s so- want you to think of me Simon. Thought it’d be cute.”

Simon could hear that heart melting pout on your lips. His heart swooned, almost flew out his chest and right back home to you. “I have one too! Made a little mask for it with your name ‘nd everythin. I’m gonna take pictures with it while I’m around, can you maybe- if you want to-“

“ ‘F course I want to baby.” It slipped off his tongue before he could realize what he said. Not that he actually wanted to take pictures, he was horrid at taking pictures. That was something he left in your hands. But if that’s what you wanted, Simon would never say no to you. He’d do the best he could.

“Good. I already made up my mind about it Si, so you have to do it properly. Okay? I wanna see what you see!”

Little minx, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted out of the large man. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He laugh leaves his pink lips, deciding to end the call so you could get your sleep, he glanced at his watch. 0300 hours, he’d need to be up in two, you were five hours behind.

“Hug little S.S for me yeah, hold ‘em while you sleep” he yawned.

“S.S?”

“Snoopy Simon, how are ya gonna tell us apart luvie?” You rolled you eyes, ends of your lips curving up.

“Love you Si.”

“Love you more doll.”

Simon couldnt lie, it was comforting having a little thing to remind him that you were at home. Patiently waiting for him. He couldn’t exactly send you pictures from his phone, but he found a disposable camera. The first picture with your mini Snoopy blurry as ever, he got the hang of it though, making sure to sure you the scenery of his locations. Gaz and Soap, the little devils, stole the precious plush and Simon went on barking at them about not roughing it up. They ended up in the photos too, along with Price while he was asleep.

You thought Simon forgot all about the idea, till you got a stack of printed photos in the mail. And there your mini Snoopy was— at the beach, in the grass, on Simons bed next to some pictures of you, at some bar— there were even some with Simon (mask on of course) his thumb up and having Snoopy put their little paw up. You squealed, rolling around in your shared bed and then your eyes found the ghost faced Snoopy that laid on your bed from the previous night. You smirked. 

“We have to step our game up S.S.”

You sent your pictures with a disposable camera too, following the rising trend, some at the fair, the park, your pet bunny hopping into it and getting hair all over it, you at the beach, some with your friends and your mom. It was too cute for Simons heart, there was one he put in his wallet that he was too proud of.

You in nothing but his shirt that went to your thighs, little S.S laying in your hair— he grew to love you a little more, his heart beating a little fast just at the thought of you, your handwriting on the back of the photos.

Simon came back 3 months later, more excited than usual, your mini snoopy chained to his waist with pride. You were a giggling mess, running and jumping into his muscular arms. He squeezed you tight, kissing your cheeks then your lips.

“Welcome back S.S.”

He playfully squishes your nose, “Good to be home little snoop.”

a/n: Bun and I literally love snoopy and then I started listening to I Love You by Faith Evan’s— perfection. I had fun writing this🥺.

most recent masterlist

[leclerc-hs]

i'm literally begging rn 🤕 can you please PLEASE do reader with a family issues orr if you don't feel comfortable doing that you can do a reader who is not feel love at all? so she feels weird when lando loves her SO much like it's all confusing to her? (i know i'm literally begging but BUT if you feel weird or uncomfortable you don't have to do it at all 💖 just that's the situation i'm in rn 😜 but unfortunatelly i don't have a lando that loves me SO much 🤕)

if you do or don't do at all i'm still thankful 🙏🏻 i hope you have the bestest day EVERrRr!! ❤️❤️

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader warnings: none! just fluff (shocking for me i know LOL) word count: <500 words author's note: SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE!!! and also sorry if this isn't exactly what you meant and that its short. just wrote some fluff while in between tasks at work so its short for that reason. ily and thank u for the message!!! ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

You’ve never been good at this part.

The safe part. The part after someone says I love you and expects you to say something back. 

You’re sitting on the couch, legs stretched. Wearing his hoodie. Lando’s across from you, one arm resting on the back of the cushion, while the other grazes your thigh. Fingers rubbing smooth circles into your skin. Always touching you.

“Y’know,” He says. Teasing. “Most people smile when being spoiled.”

“Spoiled?” You narrow your eyes.

“Mhm,” He nods. Lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Bring you snacks. Kiss you like its the only thing I wanna do…which it is. Let you steal my clothes.” He grins. “And you sit there like I have you on trial.”

You roll your eyes, a soft laugh. “Always so dramatic.”

“And you’re weird about being loved.” He shoots back. “Seriously though. It’s like it hurts you.”

You shove his shoulder, and he laughs. Catches your wrist and holds it to his chest.

“Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not.” He says. Soft eyes. “Just a little confused is all.”

Your breath catches.

He keeps pushing. “Y’never ask me for a thing. Even get all shy when I compliment you. Y’act like loving you is an inconvenience…”

“It’s not,” You whisper. A little tense.

“Then what is it, you muppet?”

You’re not sure how to answer. The words just never sounding right in your head. Too vulnerable. 

“I’m just not used to it..is all.” You shrug.

And Lando’s quiet. Contemplating. Absorbing your answer. Staring straight at you with those eyes. The ones that say my God, I fucking love you.

“And that’s not your fault…like at all” He pulls you closer. Hand still holding yours to his chest. His heartbeat fluttering. Solid. Warm. “Can I tell you somethin’?”

You hesitate. Nod.

“I love you.” Voice low but full of emotion. “And like not in the halfway let’s see how it goes way. I mean like…love you love you. Like I get excited to just hear your voice. Wanna tell you instantly whenever something good or bad happens. I mean…fuck, I saw someone trip over their bag the other day and thought oh wow, she’d probably laugh at that.”

You laugh, a small smile growing on your lips. Warmth in your chest.

“You’re in my head….like all the time. And it just feels…right. Perfect.” He reaches for you, cupping your jaw. Thumb brushing your skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be perfect at this…I just need you. S’that okay?”

Your eyes sting a little. Just a tiny bit. Like tears are threatening to form. And you nod.

And he leans forward, kisses you. Then kisses your nose. Fingers still brushing your cheek.

“Good,” He mumbles. “Cause you’re kind of it for me.”

[pronouncingitwang]

[ID: Screenshots of a Reddit thread on r/DiscoElysium, posted by No-Profile1244 and titled "Racist Mug?" in caps. The original post reads, "So like im playing this game for the first time and i open the trash thing behind whirling in rags and i take out the mug bc mugs are cool and i want the mug. but then IMMEDIATELY the game tells me [all caps] by the way the mug is racist. why ddi you take the racist mug and also you cant put it down you have to take it now. you have to take the racist mug and its like dude wtf i wouldnt have taken the mug if you had told me it was a racist mug and now kims mad at me for taking the racist mug. [end caps] Why does the game make you take the racist mug. Can this guy not just throw it back in. Is this politics" It has 1.6K upvotes and 175 replies.

A comment thread below reads Infranaut: This guy loves the racism mug. Hey everybody! This guy LOOOOOVES the racist mug! OP: I cant let this be what i die being known for thisandthatwchris: You hear that C? Pig LOVES the racist mug! He wants to fuck it! Fuckin fäschi pig! yeaheyeah: You solve 1000 crimes and nobody calls you master detective. But you fuck 1 racist mug… Sheyvan [replying to OP]: Its literally the only thing the vast majority here knows about you. OP: Well ok first of all my name is Josh RandomEffector: Josh the racist OP: People dont say this to me

dye-area comments on the thread, "This is your cylinder bràtan"

In r/DiscoElysium, mod u/ireallylikechikin posts, "announcement: new flair" with a screenshot of the words, "Is this politics" It has 1.7K upvotes and 56 replies.

/end ID]

stuff happening on r/discoelysium

[mullermilkshake]

Two wrongs can make a right

Part 9 <- Part 10 -> Part 11

You're pissed... like really pissed.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - NSFW, pregnant reader, manipulation, Smut, p in v sex, vaginal sex, quickie, creampie, unprotected sex

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

“I can’t believe you, Jinwoo. I wanted to break it to her easily- why did you tell her like that?”

There was an easy explanation for this, and it wasn’t the truth. “She was going to find out through someone else, wouldn’t you rather we tell her and not beat around the bush?”

“You know how she feels about you, what you did wasn’t compassion, it was like you were rubbing it in her face.”

Because it was exactly that.

“It’s not the case at all, I just thought it was best to rip the band aid off. You and me are having these babies, and she’ll have to get used to it. But skirting around the subject won’t help any one.”

“Why do I not believe that?” You were more than just angry, you were furious. Even your foot tapped impatiently at him. “It just felt so nasty how you did-“ 

You stopped abruptly, hand straight to your mouth with all the paleness in your face. “How you did that, it’s-“ You tried again and failed, placing your hand over your stomach.

And then your ability triggered Eye’s handmaiden. It appeared in the corner, standing as it always did, arms out ready for spell casting. It fed you a spell with its aura, calming you down so that now you were standing straight.

“What is it?” He asked, rushing over to your side. “Is it the babies?”

“N-no…” You watched Eye’s handmaiden closely. “I just felt sick, I… I don’t anymore.”

Could it be the morning sickness the doctor and Hae-in talked about? “You’re getting morning sickness? That’s what it is.”

You wanted to say something but stopped yourself, shaking your head quicker than Jinwoo liked and pressed your hand flat to his chest to make space. “That doesn’t matter, I’m still pissed off at you. Don’t go pulling that again, because I don’t want drama. I’m stressed enough as it is, me and Hae-in both are.”

Jinwoo pushed back against you to get closer, he took you by the shoulders. “I’m not trying to stress anyone out, especially not you.”

“Then why did you do that?” You didn’t resist his touch.

He wanted to come clean, he really did. But telling you he loved you wasn’t the right time. He had an idea now of when he’d tell you and today wasn’t it.

“You’re having twins. Half of them are me, and half of them are you. Maybe I got a little excited now that it’s settling in, we finally did it, I got you pregnant when for a time, I wasn’t sure that I could. I kind of want to shout it from the rooftops and show the Chairman that he did wrong trying to rush us, it only hindered things.”

You seemed to buy it for now, your expression though, not so much. “So, you’re telling me that you’re not freaking out about this, that you’re excited?”

“Uh…” Jinwoo rubbed the back of his neck with the sudden realisation that you must have been ready to slap him. “Well… I dunno, I just-“

You didn’t slap him, you didn’t scowl or grit your teeth, or just throw harsh language and scold him for it. No, you kissed him. Everything stopped, Jinwoo threw out everything from the air, anything unquestioned and hidden from your view so that he left nothing between you.

He pulled you into him, feeling his way over your waist and let your arms wrap around his neck, your fingers scrunching into his hair with a tug that sent him off. Jinwoo wanted you right here, right now, and pull everything from your bottom half and fuck you senseless over the bed and any other hard surface in the room.

But, he had two babies to think of now, and it wasn’t an option to be rough with you, not for a long while.

Would you even want to have sex, or was it the hormones just getting you hot and bothered? Because the way you kept yourself pressed against him gave him mixed signals. You were pissed off at him, yet grabbing onto any part of his body you could.

“The doctor said we can still have sex, right? I forgot.” You pulled away and slipped off your pretty red shirt, leaving your perfect breasts tucked away in your bra.

You still wanted to have sex even though you weren’t obligated to do so now that you were pregnant. That had to mean something. But it also begged the question of how much information you actually took from the doctor. It was one of the first things she spoke about. You could still have sex though with caution, because there were two babies and possible complications later down the line. 

So Jinwoo had to be careful.

For now, he’d have to restrain himself until the babies were born. Simple enough despite his urges and yours, clearly. You were all over him, pawing at his shirt right over his head and stealing little nips down his chest where you could reach. All the signs told him you wanted it, and wanted it bad.

He stopped you right there, making a gap you fought with until you realised, your eyes wider than they should have been. “What- oh shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s alright, I want it too- we just need to be careful, because of the babies. But… if you still want to then-“

You did, you kissed him quick and held him near. Jinwoo took the initiative and lifted you up in his arms so that your legs wrapped around his waist. Any hard surface would do. Anything. No bed, no softness, just upright. He took you straight to the end-suite bathroom, holding you firm under your ass and swiping the products from the counter so that they clattered and cracked on the tile floor.

“Fuck me Jinwoo- I need it right now or I’ll burst.”

Pleading always got his cock hard and twitching. He grabbed at your remaining clothes and pulled your underwear off, pulling his pants down just below his ass and gripping his thighs for dear life. Jinwoo spat in his hand and ran the wet right to the base of his cock to make it glisten, ready and aching to get inside you. It had already done its job in knocking you up, but his leaking tip wanted more. It wanted to fill you up every day for the rest of Jinwoo’s life.

“Jinwoo.” Your sternness caught him off guard. “If you don’t put your cock inside me right now, you can finish yourself off.”

The doctor warned him about this, mood swings and sudden changes in scenarios he never took much notice of, until now. He couldn’t ram his cock inside you like you clearly wanted, he held himself back and slipped himself inside your dripping pussy as cautiously as he could. You still let out an aroused gasp and adjusted yourself on the counter, wrapping your legs around and gripped his ass towards you.

“The doctor said we have to be cautious, pulling me like that isn’t cautious-“

But the way you bit his bottom lip drove him insane, the way you watched him with hungry eyes sent him wild.

“You’re driving me crazy, you want to be cautious all the time for nine months?”

No, of course not. 

And hearing such forward words drove him to go against his better judgement, though he never bit, regrettably.

“It’s what we need to do to make sure the babies are safe-“

“Please don’t talk about the babies right now while your balls deep, Jinwoo.” You had a point.

He wanted to say something, or agree with you that bringing up anything other than how good your pussy felt clenching around him. Nothing came out, it wasn’t justified when he did the opposite and slipped his tongue in your mouth. You responded in kind and kissed him back, more feverishly as though you were his lover that reciprocated and told him so everyday. You were yet to say it, Jinwoo knew eventually that you would admit it and give yourself to him.

For now, you accepted his cock with open arms and let him thrust you with some precision, yet tender loving care. Jinwoo wanted to please you in every way that you wanted, his compulsions also wanted you safe.

Still, for now, his urges got one up on the priority list. Only a fraction. A minute molecule.

But it still won.

He fucked into you, lacking his fingers with yours and nipping up your neck in what was possibly the most sensual experience of his life to date. You were constantly topping each new moment just by being you.

And only you.

He loved you.

He really loved you.

I love her. I love her. I love her. 

Each time his hips went flush against the plush of your thighs, he repeated that mantra in his mind, over and over. One day he’d say it out loud and one day you’d say it back. And when he came inside you much earlier than he wanted to, those three words almost slipped out. But what did, came as more of a surprise to Jinwoo than you it seemed.

“I think it’s time you meet my mom and sister."

Part 9 <- Part 10 -> Part 11

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

Tag list - @bubera974 @snowy-violet @sky2lar @starrynights23x @minh907

@yessirr7 @aussie-boys-wife @yihona-san06 @mashiromochi @daiyanomochi

@justatimidcreator @alia-17 @otomegamesforlife @m00n-estelle @towomatos

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@minkuro @misakicchi @lovingyeet @soft-dots @gina239

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@dragoonsuki @sashagaming1012 

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[revelboo]

I wanna see Thundercracker roleplay one, pls?

🤣 this mech really is vanilla in his roleplay 🔞 mass displaced mech 🌶️

Play

Thundercracker

• Fidgeting with the tie on the sheer coverup that’s the only thing you’re wearing, you’re struggling to keep a straight face and play along for him. Don’t really understand it, but it makes him happy. “I missed you,” you say, going up on tiptoes and the mass displaced seeker obediently bends down for you, sweeping you up against his frame as his mouth claims yours. “How was work?” You breathlessly ask when he lets you come up for air.

• Mouth brushing your jaw and neck, he hooks a servo in the sash at your waist and tugs. Palming soft, warm skin. “New guy doesn’t know what he’s doing still,” he murmurs, catching your quick smile before you hide it. And he knows you think this is silly. That you don’t understand why he loves this, but you still humor him. “Thought maybe we could skip dinner tonight,” he growls, servos pushing that sheer coverup off your shoulder to let it fall around your bare feet. And there you are, his soft, little mate.

• “You and your sweet tooth,” you tease as his mouth feathers kisses along your neck. And he’s swinging you up into his arms to carry you to the modified berth the Constructicons made. Laying you down and shifting to straddle your thighs, he runs the tips of his servos over you. Reverently mapping out your body as he stares down at you. Breath catching when his palm lines up with yours, servos intertwining with your fingers.

• “Have you thought about kids?” He asks, voice rough with need. And you just blink up at him, one corner of your mouth twitching. Probably thinking he’s still playing, instead of serious. “I heard a rumor,” he murmurs, freeing his spike and leaning over you, rocking his length between your thighs. “That Star sparked his human mate.”

• Are you still playing? Uncertain, you feel the head of his spike nudge you. Not entering you as he stares down at you, red optics serious. Waiting for your response. There’s no way, right? You’re too different. He must still be roleplaying. But you’re wondering what a little hybrid kid would look like and coming up blank. Because all you can picture is a miniature him. Breath catching as he shifts against you, stretching you slowly when he sheaths himself inside you. Realizing you want that. Want a little him. “Fuck me,” you moan and his optics flash in offense.

• “We make love,” he groans, hips pumping as his wings flare slightly. This isn’t fucking. Thrusting deep in hard drives, that rumor digs its claws in a little harder. That he could have a family with you. Could spark you and have everything he wants. You hook your legs around his waist, head backing moaning his name as he moves against you in urgent drives of his hips. You didn’t answer him. Didn’t tell him no, either. “Let me spark you,” he groans, hips snapping against you, your wet heat fisting his spike as you tremble under him. “Please, I need it.”

[13thpythagoras]

lollll yesss #omnist vibes...insert spirituality/religion rant below

I mean when you look at the evolution of so called "Indo-European Language families," it also might make sense to consider the notion of "Indo-European religion families," with Hinduism being the primary oldest tree in that forest, with Buddhism branching off specifically from Hinduism in a loosely similar way to how, perhaps, Christianity and Islam branched off from Judaism(?). It's all part of the same living tree of spiritual truth to me, perhaps a coral reef of spirituality, ultimately united with African spiritual beliefs too when you look back far enough into the past lives scene. I don't see any of it as wrong, perhaps except for the mean exclusionary caveats that might assert "only one is right and the others are wrong," to me is like saying Spanish is wrong and English is right- when these religions are really more just spiritual languages, which can be used to communicate higher-vibrational truths. I don't see any genuine religion, or language, as wrong, and it's so fascinating to consider that even early Christianity held that reincarnation was the case, and that one of the early-midieval councils struck this from the Christian dogma, perhaps under Justinian and Theodora circa 538ce (?) roughly the same decade the bubonic plague made inroads to Europe by historical coincidence / for ease of reference. So perhaps here with one revolutionary idea or anarchist spirituality mindset bringing reincarnation back into a religion from which it's been banned is a bit soulpunk mayhaps😂😅🫠... (balancing no Gods no masters with the fact that I've also just soberly and literally at about 8:15am on roughly April 9, 2012 while leaving home on my work commute, seen a point of light flitting through the leaves of a dying oak tree like a busy hummingbird in fast forward 2x, and after 30 seconds of me gawking and my mind being totally shattered by something that defies all laws of my known physics, as I pull out my phone for a video this badboy flies up and the fuck away over the damn horizon in less than a second, and it's so fkn bright, and I'm in a hilly area so the horizon's maybe an 8th of a mile away, but I can still see this thing easily flying as it crossed the horizon...it was that bright. Yet dimensionless apparently. So go ahead and continue not believing in God (I'm also not saying what I saw was omnipotent or omniscient, but I could feel it inspiring new ways of much faster thinking in my brain, it was like I was intuitively reading its body language somehow, there may have been some telepathy going on with this buddy, maybe not, tough to say if it was me or it thinking the new thoughts this new experience inspired in my head...felt like a hyperfast oscillation of disbelief and belief. Many dozens of times a second...) but that's still a true story, just cold hard facts, so I do know we need space in leftism for spiritually charged revolutionary energy, let's keep the antiracist mindset and constant improvement mantra.) I'm always open to learning more and evolving and changing and adapting, let's fkn goooooo!!!

Italian Nirvana

[shoeistars]

adrenaline rush !

incl. isagi, bachira, kunigami, reo, nagi, barou, rin, shidou

ʚଓ outline. there’s something different about the way he fucks you post match

ʚଓ w. 18+ content, minors dni, pro!characters, fem!bodied, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise

isagi !

It’s always the same. Not to say that Isagi had boring sex game— no, there is zero truth to that. Win, lose, draw, he had this primal feel to him once all was said and done on the pitch. Sweaty, a little flushed in the cheeks and ears, total tunnel vision because the one thing he wants after a game is a warm and wet pussy to sink into.

The hotel bed didn’t stand a chance, really. It has probably seen its fair share of fucking, has likely withheld many bumps and breaks. Each thrust caused an annoying creak to echo into the air, a small little cry for help that fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t the type to settle for a quick fuck but home was miles away and he was an impatient man. The walls were blank, the sheets wrinkling and coming undone from each corner of the mattress, bunching right underneath your spent body as he works you out further.

“Is there a reason why you’re bein’ quiet?” The rough cut of Isagi’s voice questions into your right ear, body mounted on top of yours as if to mimic that sweet and victorious moment of a predator capturing his dinner. There’s a rhythm to his hips as he plows you from behind, not quite hitting deep and merely focused on speed alone.

His hand, the one not curled loosely around your throat and threatening to cut off your oxygen supply, kneads at the crease of your hip meeting your thigh. It would feel like a rather loving touch if he weren’t battering into your guts to chase his own high. It goes off course and dips between your thighs, pawing gently at the mound of your hot cunt before introducing his middle and ring finger in a slippery dance against your clit.

“That’s fine, you don’t gotta say a thing,” He drawls on, choking on a groan at the feeling of you pulsing so delicately around his cock. That egoist that the field loves to see so much shines through even hours after he’s left the grass, after he’s ditched the cleats. It seeps out of his pores, it leaves his throat in the form of snark and cockiness. You’ve always told him how much you adored it when he got into his flow, anyway. “This pussy tells on you every fucking time.”

bachira !

Endorphins flooding his brain, Bachira can barely see straight. Every single win under his belt has felt the same, gave him that same smile and that familiar rush. There was nothing like reaching the tip of the iceberg and collecting yet another accomplishment in his career. He’s always been the type to celebrate by stretching the party, by chasing drinks and good food and enjoying company.

One of his favorite ways to celebrate a good and clean win is to have you spread out on the bed. As much as he misses his funky room back at home, the one filled with colors and his personality— the provided living quarters would have to suffice. Door locked, plenty of activity going on just outside. Bachira wasn’t himself if he weren’t living on the very edge.

Lips suctioned to your pussy, he can only smile at the feeling of sharp tugs assaulting his long hair. He’s still damp with sweat but you never seemed to mind, surely not when he was sucking you up like his last meal. He’s gotten the hang of going down on his girl after plenty of years, twisting and turning his tongue against your throbbing clit with technique. “Meguru, don’t stop,” you mewl rather loud, thighs twitching and toes curling against his shoulders.

“So loud,” he snickers against your pussy with glossy lips and lidded eyes, moaning softly against your folds before he’s pulling back to spit a thick glob onto your hole. His thumb dips down to smear it along your lips, biting his own at the erotic view before pushing the mess right back into your cunt. “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

The beautiful thing about a man as patient as Bachira was that he could do this for hours, sucking and licking and kissing. Nothing got him harder than getting you off, than suffocating in your cream and your scent. He had time.

kunigami !

Blue Lock as a whole ruined your boyfriend. He was never the same, never would be. There was a lack of spirit in him that was once his one unique quality. Everyone who knew Kunigami grew to adore him because he really was just a friendly face. Now, soccer and everything to do with the sport only brought out this nasty side to him.

The first time you were able to reunite was messy. Post game, he would normally stick to something easy. Nice dinner reservation, a little bit of harmless fun afterwards. That Kunigami was left in the goddamn dirt, replaced with someone who still loved but in such a drastically different way.

He was mean. Of course, you’d adapt. He would still remain loyal and considerate, would still make sure you were taken care of after all was said and done. There was just an animalistic dominance to him in the bedroom that was so unrecognizable to what once was. He was ferocious in the way he guided you down to your knees, slapping his thick and heavy dick against your cheek once, twice, three times for good measure.

Grunts and groans filled the room, never a quiet guy. The old Kunigami was gentle and even a bit timid but the way he fucks your face now is the opposite. Spit dribbling down your chin, throat nearly bulging with the head of his cock, gags so forcibly loud that they’d be leaving your voice hoarse. Your hands are shaky as they attempt to curl around the thickness of his quads, begging for a break. The sight only makes him scoff.

“Make me cum,” He demands, quiet yet filled with a sharpness that made you squeeze your thighs together. “Earn it.”

reo !

The time and place doesn’t matter— Reo will always be a sucker for missionary. He’s a yearner, he loves so deeply and a hundred wins could never compare to watching your face when he’s laying it down good. The furrow in your brow, the scrunch of your nose. Bliss always looked best on you and he just wouldn’t be him if he didn’t spoil you rotten.

Stupidly expensive chain dangling right in your face, the metal swaying with each hard thrust. Reo hasn’t blinked once since getting you on the leather sofa, focused on what you respond best to. Not a single twitch could go unnoticed by him and he’d be damned if he doesn’t get your cross-eyed, if he doesn’t get you singing by the time he’s done making a sloppy mess of you.

“So cute,” He whispers sweetly, a little tipsy from the after party that the two of you returned from just shy of an hour ago. Your makeup left messy trails and streaks all over but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t add to it all. Liquor staining his lips, he can’t help himself from diving down for a needy little kiss. Lips sliding against yours, just a ghost of a touch, almost missing and pecking at the corner of your mouth instead.

Your legs ache from how high they’re settled, heels propped on his shoulders. He’s gotten big since his first big steps at chasing a professional career, the protein doing what it was supposed to do. Your ogling of his physique was cut so short as he snuck a hand between your legs, circling at your clit with percision. He had a one track mind and that was to get you squirting, to get you feeling just as good as today has felt for him.

“Show me how wet this pussy gets for me,” Reo punctuates his plea with faster circles, deeper thrusts, unable to help the satisfied grin that tugs at his lips when you only grow louder. “Make me proud. Nut on my dick, know you can do it.”

nagi !

Not a lot of things come to impress Nagi Seishirou. He’s hard to capture the attention of, going through life with simplicity and preferring to stick to his guns. It was a shock to everyone who knew him when he landed a girlfriend in the first place. The same guy who disregarded everything that required the bare minimum amount of attention managed to score? It was almost too good to be true.

It was fair to assume that after years of learning how to be present, how to be a fair and decent boyfriend, he could never go back. Not after getting a taste of you, not after feeling the highs that you managed to pull straight out of him like a puppet to your string. You opened so many new doors, you were good for his mental.

The best way to spend a good night is to make it even better. Your thighs straddle his, the fancy little number you wore for such a big game ridden up and out of his way. Pussy leaking like a faucet, the sounds of you bouncing your hips is embarrassingly loud in the backseat of your car. The two of you just couldn’t wait.

“Look so good tonight, baby,” He practically slurs, pussydrunk and successfully knocked from all of the theatrics of the night. He can never seem to think straight once you’re on top of him like this, tits bouncing right in his face, wrapped around him like a serpent. “Know that? Did I already tell you? I’ll tell you a million times.”

Oh, how he would. He would do whatever the hell you want if you’d just stay like this, wrapped around him like a vise, squeezing him hotly. You were his dime piece and he’d be an utter fool to not bend at your every beck and call.

barou !

Naturally, his first order of business after hours of playing on the same standing grounds as a bunch of sweaty neanderthals is to hit the showers. There’s nothing that he hates more than the way his jersey sticks to his back like glue, the skin of his forehead dewy. What he wasn’t expecting was his little plus one to trail on in after him, clothes long ditched as you slot yourself into the tiny compact stalls of the stadium’s complementary showers.

You know him by now. You know that whether he ate a loss or devoured a victory that he wasn’t much of a talker after exerting himself in the hot sun. Nearly running on empty, this was the one and only time that the stupidly buff man was dead silent. Zero complaints left him as he wrapped a wet palm around the nape of your neck, brushing lazily at the hair there with his thumb, angling upwards until he could latch his lips to yours.

Slow kisses and gentle touches, there wasn’t much energy left for a rough fuck. Barou was a thorough lover at the end of the day, showing his gratitude of your endless support by making your pussy soak him sloppy. The sensuality made up for the lack of output, so tender and passionate in ways that screams his love without making him verbalize it. God forbid he ever did that.

“Oh, I know,” he purrs against your swollen bottom lip as he sinks in, sheer strength keeping you held in his arms, back against the cold tile of the shower. Your hearty whimpers bounce off of the walls and he swears it’s his favorite sound. It’s always a challenge to take such a thick cock and he’s nothing if not a gentleman. “It’s so deep, huh? You’re taking it so well, though.”

It always makes him bite back a grin of pride when your nails claw at his shoulders, leaving nasty marks into the meaty flesh— a last resort at gathering your bearings before he fucks you so out of your mind that you threaten to pass out every single time. The sounds are filthy as he pours every last bit of his effort into you, tiring you out to match.

rin !

Soccer invokes plenty of strong emotions out of Rin as a whole. The pitch is the one place where he can unleash everything, where it genuinely counts. Post match? He gets rather passionate, in his feelings, raw and open like a fresh cut. It’s clear that he puts his full effort into every little detail of his day, that he considers everything a waste if not done to the fullest.

Simply put, if you aren’t shaking purely from overstimulation and pleasure, he isn’t done. A man akin to a machine, stamina blessing him with several rounds in the tank, there’s no telling just how long he’ll keep you in the same position. Body pressed into the bed, twitching against the wrinkled sheets, weakly holding onto a pillow as your final saving grace.

“Shit, that’s it,” He hisses as soon as he feels the tight, hot grip of your cunt wringing him. It’s the fifth he’s managed to pull out of you, keeping you perfectly bent until you physically give out. Times like these, sweat glistening down your back and thighs quivering as if they’re ready to snap are his favorite.

A hand reaches until it hits skin. It runs along the nape of your neck, sticky and dewy yet so intimate. His fingers dip down to cup your chin, light in the way he forces you to look over your shoulder. Your eyes connect and it has you breaking all over again, doing your best to keep them open as you cum almost on instant. Balls clapping your swollen clit with the sheer angle he’s hitting, so deep in your guts that it hurts. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

No, you were the love of his goddamn life. The one person he looked for in a room full of people, the only one who’s seen every inch of his body. He could never be worthy of you if he couldn’t fuck you to sleep with ease.

shidou !

Shidou on the field and off of the field are arguably the same person. Still eccentric, still too inappropriate for his own good. He brings levels of excitement that are otherwise hard to reach and truly, it’s difficult to keep up with him. Marching to the beat of his own drum and seeking fulfillment is what gives him his drive, its fuel for his fire.

The hospitality was his favorite part of the Blue Lock journey. He outperformed majority of the selected players and he was rewarded in turn, given luxuries and spoiled to the nines with catering and amenities. His suite was huge and he’s already fucked you in every corner of it, every surface. It’s not his until it’s tainted with him, after all.

“Shit, I needed this after today,” His voice rasps in your ear, the hard plastic edge of the hot tub that he’s got you bent over successfully digging into your ribs. Bubbles and suds clap into the air with each thrust, water gently rocking into a splash as it spills past the confines and drips onto the concrete of the balcony. It was a beautiful night after a beautiful win and nothing could make this better for him. “Water’s so warm. Do you like it too? Huh, gorgeous?”

When a dick that long was forcing itself into you, in and out like a sick song, kissing your cervix with each hit— words were hard to come by. Moans and gasps rupture from your throat as you try to muster a nod, grasping at the slippery corner of the hot tub for dear life, his pelvis smacking against the globes of your ass hard enough to sting.

He stops, so cruel and mean, dick still fully lodged in your walls. Pressing deep, hugging your aching sides and tugging you into his chest, he plants sloppy wet kisses along your cheek. “C’mon,” Shidou sneers with a smile, downright evil in the way he brings a hand up to grip your face between his fingers. “Good girls speak when they’re spoken to.”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey sex witch,

i am so sorry in advance if this is a question you don’t/would not know how to answer. i’ll absolutely take it somewhere else if that’s the right thing to do. but to get to the point - i’m 19 and i just finished my freshman year of college. i lived in a triple this year, and i haven’t shared a room with people very often. for some reason, at some point, i gained this misconception that it was okay to masturbate in the same room as someone else if that person was asleep. writing that out, i really want to reiterate that i have no fucking clue why i thought that was okay in the moment. if i had to guess, i think i just had read something where a roommate did that and internalized it as normal behavior for some reason. not to excuse it - just to give some backstory as to what happened & why. so, yeah. that’s what i did, one night back in the fall. but within the next day i saw a post online where someone mentioned that their roommate did that & did internalize that what i did was fucked. so i never did that again, but i also didn’t tell my roommates because i thought that it would just make things worse, and just avoided talking to them because of what i did. and now i’ve moved out. and i guess what i’m trying to say here is - is the right move in this situation to tell them? my gut says absolutely not, but it felt like the wrong thing to just let them go on thinking i hadn’t done that. i really did like my roommates, and they didn’t deserve that. i thought my actions were an act of just being polite, making sure i was doing it at a time when they wouldn’t be bothered. but i do understand, obviously, that it was fucked up and i shouldn’t have. i just want to make things right, or at least as right as they can be. sorry for the essay, and i really appreciate any advice you can give me.

hey anon.

just to start out: no, you absolutely don't need to tell your roommates about jacking off while they were asleep. that's not going to add anything of value to their lives. this isn't a catholic church; we don't have to do confession.

I also think you're being, like, way too hard on yourself here. this isn't even in the top 20 worst roommate crimes I've ever heard; I feel like its somewhere worse than "leaving toothpaste blobs in the sink" but well below "knowing stealing roommates' food." you made a freshman roommate 101-level misstep, no one said anything, and you're not going to do it again. move on.

[miaoua3]

Is this where we request? I’m still new to this app lol. Pero may I request a smut Minghao? The smuttier the better. Surprise me with any story line ^_^ I trust your writing hehe

yes this is where you request it😭 and its all good, happy to have received your request! and ofc you can, hope you like this!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Keep Quiet.

•Pairing: bf! minghao x f!reader

•Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), fingering, voyeurism, unprotected sex, dirty talking, angry sex, minimal foreplay, slight degradation, bathroom sex, quick fuck, spit…play? idk i def mentioned the word waaay too often in such a short story lmao, slight angst (well, maybe even more than slight angst)

•Description: one minor fight with your boyfriend has you acting like he doesn’t exist, ignoring him to your best efforts, despite you two being out in public with your friends. minghao knows a great way to make you pay attention to him again.

•Notes: writing this before i even wrote the story and i can already tell it’s gonna be a banger lmao (post writing update: i made it angsty🧍‍♀️ffs i hate whenever im on my period and get all emotional)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you nod your head in fake cheerfulness to whatever seungkwan was saying to you, trying your hardest not to let it show that your boyfriend has his hand in your panties and his fingers almost inside your pussy right underneath the table.

it was so stupid, the whole thing-the fight, the words you both said in the heat of anger, the purposeful ignoring on your behalf, and finally the fingering under the table while all of your members are sat there on his behalf.

now that you try to think about it, the details about the whole thing seem to be gone from your head. but that just might be because minghao literally has his fingers inside you.

thankfully, everyone redirects their conversations, leaving you and hao alone for a minute. immediately grabbing his hand, you grit through your teeth in warning.

“take. your hand. out. of my underwear. now.”

minghao just leans in closer to you before he hotly whispers right into your ear “maybe if you weren’t such a little brat earlier, i wouldn’t have to have my hand inside your needy cunt to get your attention.”

you finally look him directly in the eyes for the first time since this morning, eyes burning with fire. if the fire is from anger or from neediness? who knows.

hao smirks at you, but not the kind that you find hot and sexy-the kind that is cocky, the kind that is indirectly telling you “i won”, the kind that is so condescending and outright insulting to your ego.

his fingers spread your folds open, the contact with the cold air making shivers appear all over your skin. his middle finger then gently runs up and down your entrance, your precum already gathering on the tip of his finger simply with that one move. he then uses the same finger to ever so lightly flick your clit, and it feels so good that you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet.

hao’s voice distracts you for a moment, his warm breath hitting the shell of your ear as he hotly whispers “if you hate it so much, and if you want me to stop, why are you so wet? hm? why is your slutty little pussy so wet from one little touch? don’t tell me-“ he stops in the name of mockingly chuckling before he continues, “don’t tell me you are into this? getting discovered by them, letting them see just what a slut you are-letting me finger you under the table. poor seungkwan-he probably didn’t even realise that you didn’t pay attention to anything he said, too distracted by being a little whore for my fingers.”

nervously looking around the table, you confirm that no one is paying attention to you two. still, the whole thing makes you feel nervous. as hot as this feels somewhere in the back of your fucked up mind, the idea of you two getting discovered makes you panic and it cuts your enjoyment in half.

almost like he can sense that he’s slowly losing you to your anxieties, he orders you in his deep voice.

“bathroom. now. wait for me there.”

you didn’t have to be told twice.

after a few minutes of nervously walking around the bathroom, you finally hear the door open and close quickly, hao’s expert fingers quickly locking the door, all while his eyes are solely focused on you.

in two big strides, you two meet each other half way, immediately kissing each other messily. you feel his saliva get all over your lips and chin, hands groping your body all over-from squeezing your neck, to squeezing and spanking your ass so hard under the skirt of your dress, you almost end up screaming.

before you know it, he’s quickly walking you towards the sink, hands quickly turning you around before bending you over the cold marble. you gasp at how quickly it all happens, hands slamming against the mirror.

you stare at the reflection, your fucked out face staring right back at you, lips still wet from his kisses, eyes hazy. behind you, you see minghao staring right back at you, hands working on quickly unzipping his pants.

as he’s taking his cock out of his pants, he angrily asks “you don’t want to pay attention to me?” before he’s quickly slamming inside your pussy, the quick movement making your walls burn at the sudden stretch. you moan through a gasp, watching as he bends over as well, his chest coming in contact with your back as he wraps a skill-full hand around your neck.

staring at your eyes through the mirror, he orders you “then don’t. only look at yourself.” before he starts basically hammering his hips into your own.

the pace he sets from the start has you seeing stars, you own eyes focusing on your reflexion in the mirror per his order.

the sight has you blushing-eyes teary, mouth open as moans freely spill out of them, saliva almost dripping out as you don’t have the strength to close them so you can swallow it down.

his hand cutting out basically all the air to your lungs, veins popping out due to the force he has to use.

you want to look at him, you want to look at him so badly, but you know that if you do, that the damage will be fatal for your pussy you. so, you keep on watching yourself, the way your whole body moves from the sheer force of his moves.

his dick is merciless-your walls still trying to get used to his girth while he’s fucking you with quick snaps of hips. the way his thickness is spreading you, better yet-splitting you open is messing with your head. you already know that you will walk funny later, but for now you settle on just letting you two get all the emotions out of your system.

quicker than you’d expect it, hao drops his other hand between your legs to quickly rub your clit. normally, you would be thrilled at this part, but something about how quickly he started doing it, not even 5 minutes of you two fucking, it makes you feel…weird. almost like he’s just trying to make you cum for the sake of you just cumming, not because he actually wants you to feel good and because he cares about your own enjoyment.

you distinctly hear his voice talk hotly in your ear, but you can register what exactly. before you know it, you feel your pussy squeeze around his cock, milking his own orgasm out of him pretty quickly.

the whole thing lasted all but a few minutes, and it feels almost…anticlimactic.

you two stay in your positions for a few seconds, breathing heavily due to the nature of your activities.

but then, before you can even react, you feel his body retreat from your own, quickly dressing himself up and tidying up his appearance.

but most importantly, he didn’t do it.

he didn’t kiss you-your lips or cheek, whatever is closer to him, and he didn’t say it. didn’t say ‘i love you’, like he always did.

something in your stomach drops, shame quickly coming to haunt you.

you immediately get up to your height and start getting dressed, both of you staying silent as you do so.

hao is thinking his words over, lips being bitten as he’s contemplating on how to resolve this problem.

to be honest, he hated this. this whole thing. he didn’t recognise his own actions, the way he acted so heartless towards you…it made him feel sick.

this wasn’t right.

no matter how high your emotions are, he should never stoop so low as to fuck simply out of anger.

he wasn’t supposed to make you feel or think like he hates you through his actions. he was supposed to make you feel loved, and appreciated. at best, he should’ve talked to you about the problem before he did anything of the sexual nature. but he was so desperate to make you look at him, to have you finally pay attention to him, that he didn’t know what to do other than to do what he did.

just as he was about to apologise to you and ask if you wanted to talk this whole situation out, a single sniffle broke out in the otherwise quiet bathroom.

hao’s head immediately snapped to you, panic hitting him like a wave during a storm. in two quick strides, he comes to stand before you only to see you looking down at the floor with tears streaming down your face as your shaky hands tried straightening the wrinkles out.

his hands immediately come to gently hold your cheeks as he asks “love what’s wrong? fuck, i ruined it all, didn’t i? i am so sorry baby, i don’t what came over me, i just thought-“

but before he can continue, you let yourself just fall into his arms, hands grabbing the back of his shirt as you hug him to yourself.

he immediately hugs you right back as he listens to your small sobs escape you, lips kissing the top of your head as countless “i’m sorry’s” slip out of his mouth.

ever so quietly, he hears you say “y-you didn’t say it.”

hao looks puzzled straight ahead of him, softly asking you “said what baby?”

through a broken inhale, you add “you didn’t sa-say ‘i love you’.”

his heart immediately drops from his chest ti the floor, realising that he forgot to say it due to the inner turmoil going on in his mind.

immediately pushing you back a bit, he sincerely yet heartbrokenly says “of course i love you, my love. how could i not? you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. i live to feel your love and to make you feel loved. and i’m so sorry if i ever made you feel otherwise, love.” he pauses for a second as he wipes your tears away, his own having to be blinked away as he looks at your heartbroken expression. “of course i love you. you are my first, greatest and last love. you are the only one for me.”

emotionally due to his words, you immediately prop yourself on tippy toes in the name of kissing him passionately yet slowly.

with no hesitation, minghao kisses you right back.

and with the kiss, you finally get the confirmation.

confirmation that even when you two are facing the troubles, it will always be you and him against the world.

confirmation that no one in this world could love you like he does.

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

There's also this...I'm sorry I have to point this out because a couple people have in the notes but it is drowned out by at least a dozen people going

"oh ummm actually the concept of a 'soul' isn't a religious concept because its found in religions all over the world"

This is very close to hyperdiffusion in nature, which is probably a little fitting given a lot of the people arguing this in the notes are probably some value of Christian and Christianity has inbuilt hyperdiffusion in it but like. A lot of these concepts aren't really comparable. The "soul" as some innate part of the human experience separate from the body is not universally shared. There's a fair bit of rhyming but the concept of the "special stuff to makes someone human" has a lot of differences from religion to religion and philosophy to philosophy.

You're running dangerously close to really racist belief systems by saying stuff like this. "Cultures all around the world have werewolves" isn't a true statement. This is the kind of thinking that results in you appropriating an indigenous belief system like Stephanie Meyer did. This is why a lot of neopagans end up being super racist too: rather than understand things to be different from one other, they mix anything they can find into one slurry.

In addition, OP is just right. The existence of a "soul" in something is a really poor argument. People aren't just using it to describe something being "alive" either as many people have pointed out. After all, we describe art as being "soulless" or not all the time. What does it mean for art to not have a soul? Usually, that it does not have some "innate", unmeasureable quality that other art does, that is just separate from the actual body of the art itself. Much, if we're being clear, in the same way people used to argue that animals didn't have souls like people did. Do you see? Do you see the issue with this framing?

People argue corporations have souls. They argue machines can have souls. People argue COUNTRIES have souls!!! If you live in the US or Canada or most of Europe you live in a predominantly Christian country where the culture is in part defined and in communication with Christianity. You need to actually analyze that and think about what concepts get used uncritically.

Don't use souls as part of your political arguments, it's cringe as fuck.

"corporations don't have a soul" "machines don't have a soul" neither do humans. I won't convert to your religion. Think up a new argument.

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

Days pass. Patience grows thin. Deathbed talk begins. You pull the last straw and are taken somewhere new.

[Invincible Varients X Reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [11]

12 * Two Inches? [9.2k]

"Nice, nice!

Are you a virgin?

Nice, nice!

What color are your panties?"

Nice Nice - Dazey and the Scouts

        "We need to tell everybody." He couldn't look away from that massive white thing. Hard-shelled with soft, crabby flesh underneath. His mouth watered just looking at its twitching mandibles.

        From behind him, "No."

        Baldie turned, brows pressed together. "Why not?"

        Phantom watched him, feet away, keeping eyes and ears out for approaching company. No one was coming.

        "(Y/n) likes you." He says instead of answering directly. "If you ask her to come with you alone, she will." 

        Baldie's mouth fell open. Now he was starting to get it. "But... You just said all that stuff about not splitting up."

        "Because I had to." Phantom said, modulator softly echoing off the cave walls, "To keep the peace until we could talk. This is the safest way to do it."

        "We can't just keep this from every-"

        "You saw what those two did to her." Phantom cut him off, surprising even himself, "How easily they took her from you. I had to get her out of that situation. We only survived because they decided they were done playing. Do you really want her to be around people like that?" His throat itched. Vocal cords thin and raw after ten seconds of jabbering. 

        "Then we tell everyone but them." Baldie reasoned, though the voice in the back of his mind agreed. To take the hoard that was you and run.

        "If we're all together, they'll find us. It has to be just us." Phantom finishes, cards splayed across the table, hoping Baldie would fold.

        Baldie's mouth opened, closed, opened, closed. He knew he should do the right thing. Refuse. Tell everybody. Band together, kill Lensless and Scars with everybody else. Establish peace. Live with and eat bugs forever. Find friendship and understanding in the only person who could really understand what he went through- the other versions of himself.

        But he just couldn't. 

        He'd waited four years in hell only to find your bones. Watched you be civil to the others, Viltrumite loyalists and enforcers and leaders. It made him sick, the idea of you with them. Any of them but him. Phantom must feel that way too. 

        He was no fool. Alternate motives were guaranteed in a situation as suspicious as this. "How long have you known about this place?" Was double-speak for, 'Did you find this before or after we ate a guy?'

        "Not long." Phantom lies, "Three days." 

        Baldie nods shallow before spinning, neck cracking like a whip. "You're only telling me this now because, what? You think I'm stupid? You think I'm easy to kill?" 

        Phantom backed up, hands raised defensively. "No." He says, shaking his head, voice small, hunched over, feigning doe-ishness. 

        "What's stopping you from killing me when I bring her here?" Baldie's prowling closer now, fists clenching, "What's stopping you from just taking her yourself? Why are you telling me this?" Veins pop out on his scarred neck, pulse throbbing in his clenched fists. He's still angry about you letting Lensless and Scars go. He doesn't want, he needs to hit something hard as he can.

        "Because you can make her happy." Phantom says, "And I can't." That makes Baldie pause. "I wish she liked me the way she likes you, but I know it won't happen. I'm okay with that. I just want her safe." It's a lie but a well-told one.

        Baldie relaxes but not fully. "If you ever fucking try to touch her, I will kill you." He only says it because you're not here to hear him say it, because he couldn't say it to the ones that hurt you. Then and now. He had dreaded coming home from prison and you being scared of him, his appearance and the scars that festered underneath. But the you now wasn't scared, you were starting to cherish him. He was afraid now, of fucking it up a second time. 

        "Understood," Phantom said because this is exactly what he wanted.

        "I-" Baldie took a breath, squared his shoulders, "I also need some time to figure this out. This," the bug queen, the cathedral, the never ending cache of food, "is a lot." But most of all, he needed to figure out how to tell you.

        ***

        Your phone was gone. Off the rock you'd left it on to play music and die on. You'd asked around unhurriedly. Not like it'd be any help but the comfort of something not from this shithole was alluring. Something to hold and know you had existed before this and would hopefully exist after. But nobody knows where it went. Though Lensless (when you saw him next) claimed he took it and tried to get you to force him to tell the truth. You didn't even try.

        Gray was dodgy, not about the phone, but about you. He couldn't seem to hold conversation with you for more than two seconds at a time before flying off somewhere with something better to do. He'd always been that way, but he'd been shorter with his words and was staring at you a whole lot more. Despite this, he wasn't a suspect. You doubted he'd want anything to do with your phone, even if it was working.

        You were rotting and they all saw it. You couldn't explore long. The torches you'd been making out of soaked, then slightly dried wood and cloth never last longer than a half hour. You couldn't go to the surface, ceiling too high to even consider scaling out of. Not like any of them would let you anyway, not with Scars and Lensless roaming the wastes during the day. Hiding out somewhere hidden so those who wanted them dead couldn't even kill them in the daylight. Or maybe they were hiding, waiting to pick them off one by one. No one knew what they were planning. 

        Scars and Lensless always came at night because they'd yet to find another source of food. The peace was paper thin. They ate and didn't attack or kidnap you. Your horde of bodyguards let them stay in the shade for a few hours. We don't hurt you and we get to eat. Not exactly an even exchange.

        Personal agendas were always thick in the air now. It was only a matter of days until the food was gone. They could go without awhile, but as soon as you began to starve, there'd be another death and another. Everyone was planning to be the last one standing, to die in the desert with you. The truce wouldn't last much longer but for tonight, nobody mentioned it.

        Gray marked day twenty on the wall. He kept count for the sake of rationing. Meager scraps of what hadn't rotted remained. Only you would eat tonight, the small hard pieces of Emperor jerky that always got caught in your teeth a reminder. 

        Hopelessness isn't in the air, it's already sunken in, become a part of each of you. People were starting to think about dying or finding a way to make this all work long term. But without food? It would not. 

        The deathbed talk started lightly, a reprieve from their thoughts and the empty expanse around them. 

        "I could really go for mom's chicken parm." Maskless says, watching you nibble on small pieces of Emperor meat.

        Tracksuit's mask fluttered when he laughed, "Your mom cooked?"

        "Yours didn't?"

        So began talk of Debbie Grayson. Another universal constant, but she was dynamic through the multiverse. Tracksuit talked about a distant figure he never liked much. Maskless implied kind acceptance, the love some of them yearned for. She stood up to Nolan and died for it. Mohawk laughed in his face. Bragged about how he came to your world partly to kill her himself again. 

        "Did you?" Omni asked, sounding suspiciously interested. Like he'd had a similar idea.

        "Nah." Mohawk kicked at the ground. "Wasn't home. Any of you dicks find 'er?"

        Nobody had. 

        Lensless claimed a weak, once loving mother who stepped aside when the Viltrum Empire came to Earth. Struck by grief at the death of her husband at her child's hand. They lived together through the change Viltrum brought to Earth. What was left of it after the slaughter Lensless brought down. She was a ghost. Wasting away as the world was rebuilt into a utopia. The last time he saw her, she was hanging in her closet. He said this lightly, with the same smile he always wore.

        Scars grinned at the story, told them that Debbie Grayson's body would never be found in his world. Left it at that. No one wanted to know.

        Gray was confused by all of this. The death. The alien versions of his, "Mother raised me on Viltrum." Turned heads. "She likes it there."

        Baldie stirred, agitated by the idea. Mom was good, she was just. She was taken from Earth just like he was. Brought to Viltrum, not in a cell, but still imprisoned. Dad gave him updates in between beat-downs on his cell floor. She had stopped talking, stopped eating, had to be put on life support to stay alive. Nolan refused to pull the plug. He kept his wife unwillingly alive as a self-inflicted vegetable. Baldie wished he could've escaped another way. Seen mom one last time, taken her off that horrid life support and let her rest in peace.

        But he kept his mouth shut. He felt if he opened his mouth at all, the cave secret would come spilling out. He hadn't figured out how to tell you. Where to tell you. When. How you'd react.

        Phantom hadn't spoken at all since he'd talked with Baldie those days ago. Something about Mom and Viltrum made him spark, contempt thick in his voice. "As breeding stock?"

        Gray turned to him, "That's not what I said."

        "Dad said that's all humans were good for," Phantom said.

        ***

        "Is she with child?" The Viltrumite doctor asked as they all stepped into the sterile room. White on white on white. Technically, only Mark needed to be in attendance for his physical. There had been plenty of appointments since he was the first human-Viltrumite hybrid and the Empire desperately wanted to know how he was developing. But his parents came, they always came because they cared. Humanity's customs had rubbed a dent into Nolan's character. The other Viltrumites didn't approve but he still conquered planets, if not more effectively than before- excited to return to his family.

        "No." Debbie said firm. "We've already told you, we're not-"

        "You brought the human woman to breed did you not?" The doctor looked square at Nolan. Debbie was beneath him. 

        "I feel it's better to focus on Mark until he develops his powers." Nolan said as Mark climbed onto the table for a full body scan. He was seven, small for a Viltrumite boy his age but Debbie was sure he'd hit a growth spurt soon. 

        The doctor watched numbers flash on a screen. Mark's vitals, muscle and bone density. Hardly different from a full blooded Viltrumite. "He will soon, Nolan. It would be prudent to begin procreation immediately."

        "I said no." Debbie snapped. 

        The Viltrumite doesn't turn to address her. "You should consider your mission on Earth a great success, Nolan. We were unsure of human-Viltrumite compatibility before, but by the time he's developed his powers- he'll be strong as a full-blood. The Empire thanks you for this knowledge."

        "Uh, yeah sure." Nolan internally wilted at his wife's hard stare. "But you don't need me to have more children do you? There's so many Viltrumites and humans to do that for me."

        The doctor's hands balled to fists. "You know?"

        It's a secret Mark isn't privy to. Debbie isn't privy to. Nolan knows. There are only fifty full-blooded Viltrumites left in the galaxy. Their bloodline thinning in other mixed races. The Empire is weak, desperate. Mark the greatest success yet. 

        "Yes," Nolan said.

        "Then you know what you must do."

        ***

        "There are other humans to do it for him." He says, the parallel is like a hammer to head. The population of Viltrum had thinned further since then, but there were still others to carry the mission. He could just... No. No, he couldn't defect like that, it wasn't like mother. The Empire wouldn't even allow you to be considered if you couldn't procreate. Even if he wanted to, he was stuck in the desert. No way of returning to his Empire. Still, he looks to you and finds a cringe he feels the need to reset. "The parents of our hybrid children are not forced into what they do. It is bad for the child's physical health if some human practices are not done during pregnancy and early development." Only in hybrids. Viltrumite babies weren't so needy. Remembering himself, a tiny, keening and a desperate thing, made him embarrassed to not be full blooded. 

        Your expression only worsens. You did not like that. He is confused, what he said was very humane. He left out the part that humans were selected by health and fertility, that many did not meet their qualifications. Some did not wish to serve the empire, so they would be killed until another was found. Rinse, repeat. After awhile, all participants are willing.

        "Wait." Tracksuit's accent cut the tension. "You were on Viltrum from day one, yeah?"

        "I was born there." Gray said, proud. It was like a badge among the lesser versions of him. 

        Tracksuit's fingers snapped. "That makes so much sense!" Gray doesn't ask, so Tracksuit continues, "You know, why you're taller than the rest of us!"

        Looks were shared. "He's not-" Then. "Wait- Hey! Stop hovering for a second!"

        Gray, who perpetually seemed to hover above the ground except for when he slept, did as requested. Gasps rang through the cave. Marks stood beside him. Hands going from the top of their heads to the middle of Gray's chin. All of them were the same height, except for Gray. Two, maybe three inches taller than the rest.

        There was outrage from some. Gray did not care. Height did not matter on Viltrum, through he suspected his difference was due to a different level of gravity throughout his lifetime. Odd, yes, but he can only focus on you and your faraway expression. What were you thinking about? Were you not impressed with his height? Didn't Earth women like taller mates?

        He is so focused on you he nearly doesn't catch Phantom's quiet words.

        "She'd rather die than live on Viltrum." The whole time he'd been simmering, building up the strength in his throat.

        Gray looked to him. Saw past his modulator and mask, and knew he was a hurt, aching, little boy on the inside. One he could've been, had he not been raised to be strong on Viltrum. Gray pities him, but feels no compassion. A bleeding heart was just that, a bleeding heart. Weak, soon to die.

        "Your mother is dead, yes?" He says more than asks. It's a guess, an educated one. The human-raised among his ilk were too transparent with their feelings. 

        Phantom jerks as if struck, voice a growl like what he says will hurt him. "Dad killed her." 

        Weakness. "If she resisted, then it had to be done. She was not strong enough for The Empire or your father. My mother was, and she still serves The Empire." He says as if his mother didn't only have one child. As if he didn't cherish growing up surrounded by his parents love and attention. She had not done everything she should have for The Empire and he still loved her, his father loved her. He too was weak, but unlike Phantom, would not show it.

        Phantom bristled under the mask. Tense. Ready to strike. But he looks at you. Remembers what's at stake. Forces himself to relax.

        Mohawk's cackle hurts his ears, "Maaaaan! You can't be sayin' that shit to this dude!" His thumb jerked toward Phantom, "Dude looks like a school shooter!"

        Phantom took the abuse on the chin. He'd take all he needed to because soon enough, he'd show them all.

        ***

        Scars and Lensless touched down, made their gross, sexual commentary. Toed the line. Maskless built the fire, Gray marked day twenty-two. 

        You eat beside Tracksuit. Friendship an undercurrent you keep hidden at these fireside. The others would be weird, territorial. Scars and Lensless might fucking kill him. You hoped they didn't hear you pour your heart out to him about Mark. Knowing your luck? They probably had.

        Another night of tension. Conversational scraps. No one had found anything in the caves or the desert. Until.

        "Alright, I'm bored." Mohawk shot a pointed finger your way. "I gotta know, how was he in bed?"

        You almost drop your jerky. "Excuse me?"

        "You heard me. How was fuckin' Daddy's little clone?" 

        You'd been avoiding the topic for days. Avoiding Omni for days. He had his own cot now, had for days, but he pushed it right up next to yours. Sleeping next to one another, ignoring his chatter, trying to get him to sleep on his cot and not roll onto yours in the night. All you cared about was if he would kill you or not. Since he wasn't trying, you didn't need to talk to him. Still, he tried. Over and over to catch you out alone and you continued to dodge. Using your powers to get someone else to be around. He was smart and knew the others shouldn't know. Liked keeping a secret between you both, until he didn't. 

        "I told you twelve times already, we didn't have sex." Your lies sting him. The first time you denied it, he didn't mind. It was survival. But now? You sounded grossed out by the idea of him inside you. As if your body hadn't been begging for more. As if he hasn't tasted you on his fingers. 

        "Sure you didn't." Mohawk snickers. "Yelling at him for that long?"

        "Dude," Tracksuit swallows a wad of meat, "I'd tell you if she was fuckin' some guy. It's like, bro code man."

        Mohawk snorted, "I'm just sayin', if we were alone for that long? You would not be yelling at me." His brows do a stupid jig on his forehead. You want to throw your jerky at him but you needed it. You'd used your reserves for the day on shutting Scars and Lensless up for an extended period. They seemed to come to the fireside just for your control. Work it out until your nose bled or you passed out, then leave into the night.

        "If we were alone that long, I'd kill you." You say.

        He bit his pierced lip in a grin. "I'd like to see you try."

        "Say that stupid shit again and I will."

        Omni had had enough. The secret was doing no good for your relationship. He said loud and clear for the whole desert to hear, "Is it so bad that I made love to my wife?"

        Your jerky finally drops out your hand as you stood. "You-"

        Mohawk slapped his knee. "Knew it! I knew it!"

        "We didn't!" You glare at him, trying to stop him with your eyes. 

        Omni levels you with a too-serious glare. "We did and it was beautiful."

        "No!" You hands go to your head. You do not have the energy to deal with this.

        Mohawk clutched his chest, laughing so hard he may vomit. "Him! Him first?! Ain't no way!"

        Your control on Lensless and Scars snapped. Lensless shot up, arm raised, "Me next! Me! Pick me!" While Scars watched you with a small, knowing smile. He'd already known. Guessed or heard somehow. You could never tell with this freak.

        "Oh God." Tracksuit ran a hand under his mask. 

        "Wait." Mohawk stopped. "What about bro code? Were you in that pussy too!?"

        "No." Omni said at the same time as you.

        The unity made Mohawk stop laughing. Taking stock of the situation, the way you stood in front of him, trying to mask your anger in a way you wouldn't if he was lying. If he was lying you'd make him jump into the fire, but you just looked anxious now, barely contained. 

        "You actually fucked her." It's not a question. Omni didn't joke. "I should cut your dick off." Mohawk wanted to say little but considering they were the same person? Definitely not little.

        "You will not." Omni says, smile cocky enough to make them all bristle, "But I didn't need it."

        Mohawk's hands go to the shaved sides of his head. "Fucking-!" He'd done plenty of that in his day, especially since your death to fill the void. If anyone knew about meaningless sex it was him but you fucked him, another version of him, and not him him. It was a total betrayal, a slap in the face, a Coalition of Planets data pad under the mattress. 

        Nothing seemed more healing to him then being buried in your pussy. Negging you was flirting for him. He was just trying to get in your pants, then your heart. He'd thought the teasing would bring you closer together. He'd had a plan but now all he wanted to do was kick Omni's ass for existing. 

        He stood. Omni stayed seated. "Do you really plan to attack me, Little Man?" Mohawk doesn't see but feels his eyes flick up and down. It was obvious who the scrawniest was out of all of them, Mohawk himself. Nothing to sneeze at in terms of physique but compared to Omni's brick wall body? He stood no fucking chance.

        But he knew his physique didn't matter, that he was more durable, better than all of them combined. And he wouldn't take such a insult in front of you. 

        "Yea-"

        "Take a breather." You say. Mohawk shoots hard into the night. You hold control long as you can. 

        "I appreciate the assist, my love but l-"

        You hold up a hand shutting him up. "I'm not your love or your wife. That was the whole fucking point of what we did." You turn to the rest, the official news hitting them all at once. "And if any of you assholes have a problem, I'll send you out until you can act like adults. Jesus Christ." 

         Gray felt strangely disappointed. You couldn't help the repopulation effort but you'd still had sex just to have sex. Why? He never understood why his parents did what they did. Never got to lay his version of you down himself. Baldie tells himself you're only human. Needed to let off steam, but he angsts anyway. Lensless and Scars look to each other. Seeming to physically brew up punishing ideas. Maskless didn't care. Tracksuit hoped Mohawk wouldn't come back and murder him over an assumption.

        Phantom sat content. Upset, yes, but content knowing this information would push Baldie further to his side. All evidence of Omni's mark on you could be erased anyway- once Baldie was out of the picture. If everything went his way no one else would touch you ever again.

        ***       

        You sat on the ground in total quiet. Alone for the first time in forever in the central cave. You couldn't remember who was on babysitting duty or where they'd gone. You continued knitting garbage together on your bare arms. Everyone had a cot now, but you wanted a blanket that wasn't Omni's cape after that shit he pulled last night. You'd slept against a carved bench by the fire while he tried to call you to bed. You ignored him until the only sounds you could hear were the fire and your teeth chattering.

        You were exhausted and your whole body ached, and every time you fucked up the technique, you swore. It'd been getting harder to keep your emotions in check. You were always partly starving, bored, afraid for your life. You were fraying at the edges and didn't know how much more you could take. 

        "Hi."

        You nearly jumped out of your skin. Falling forward, scraping your elbows on the cave floor, garbage fabric falling to useless shreds on the ground. You twisted, ready to bark out a kill order.

        Phantom stood. Hand poised like he was going to touch your shoulder but thought better of it. 

        "What?" You gathered your limbs under yourself, trying to look more composed. 

        He notices you're slow to do so. You were not as afraid of him as the others. Unsure, reasonably so, but not enraged by his closeness. This was a good sign. 

        He reached into his belt. You'd never seen him turn out his pockets, had no idea what was inside. Mind racing that he was going to pull out a weapon, superhero murder gas or something of the like. Instead, he holds a small flat disc. No larger than the center of his palm.

        "For you." He held his hand out, palm open, waiting for you to take it.

        You ogle the thing with a frown. "It's not going to cuff around my wrists right?" You remembered the thing he'd thrown at you in Sydney. What you guessed it was but it was never confirmed to be. Remember what Scars had brought with him to subdue you. You suppress a shiver.

        "No." He says, smile soft in his voice. "I used this when I knew I didn't have the time to follow a suspect." His thumb pressed on the disc's center and out popped a suction cup. Another press and it was smooth once more. "I did a lot more work for the GDA than the others."

        He assumes anyway. Those lazy, immoral rats didn't care about the planet most of them grew up on. Not like Phantom did. He did everything he could to protect it. He still remembers what Dad said to him that horrible day. A sneer as he said  "his hobby was cute," right after leveling their family home, after killing you. Just remembering spiked his heart rate. 

        He forced himself to breathe. Be level, calm. He held his arm out a little further but didn't dare touch you. Careful not to set you off, the poor, scared little mouse that you were.

        "Or," he started, nervous under your attention, "to keep covert operatives safe." He flipped the disc on its side, slid a hidden track down to reveal a slim red button. "Press this and I'll be alerted. I'll come right away." He slid the hidden compartment shut and waited.

        He wanted to keep an eye on you. Keep you in the palm of his creepy hand. He wanted to...

        You were always in the same place. Always under threat of Scars and Lensless suddenly swooping down and snatching you up. This wasn't about stalking, it was about protecting. After all, he had saved your life from them, and your own stupid mistake. 

        You took the thing, slow, like you were scared if you moved too quick his predator instinct would spring and he'd grab your arm. But he holds himself perfectly still. Feeling the euphoric thrill that is your fingers grazing over his palm through kevlar. When your touch leaves, the sensation lingers.

        You turn the thing over and over in your palm. Testing the weight and muttering, "Where was this a few days ago?" Before sliding into the pocket of your soldier pants. Its weight is near imperceptible but you feel it tugging at your hip. A real, solid comfort. A promise.

        You realize you're being an asshole.

        "Thank you." You say. Hoping he doesn't take it and his promise of protection back. Machine Head was always so quick to take privileges like that away. You worried but a lightning speed pick-pocketing doesn't occur. You relax. "For this and the other day. Those guys are uhm..." You look up through the porthole as if they'd be there waiting. They aren't. You don't want to jinx it. "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        He nods. All talked out for the day. Chest ablaze with the praise. 

        "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        He picked up your trash and re-knit it before you could think about doing it.

        "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        He brought Gray's cache of trash to weave closer. Sat by your side and passed you pieces as you went along. Quietly enjoying your company.

        "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        ***

         Dinner tonight was a broth of Emperor's bones to be sipped out of cups of dry clay Gray baked in the sun. He only made bowls for those two because if he didn't, they'd have an excuse to drink from yours. It was not that he cared for your comfort, why should he if you couldn't help him complete his mission but... There was no mission in this wasteland. He tells himself he's trying to keep the peace, to do the most rational thing in a hopeless situation. You were needed for morale, the others and not his of course.

        You tilted the bowl to your lips and let the poor excuse for hot soup slide down your throat. Scars watched your throat bob. Wanting nothing more than to drink the liquid out of your mouth after a long day of desert dwelling with Seven. He settles for drinking his own share.

        Scars is watched himself. Nobody trusts him not to try and take you to the sky again. Maybe even take you away for good. He hadn't made his move yet, but it was expected soon. For tonight, he did the same thing he had for the last week.

        "Stop avoiding the question, Dregs." Piss you off on purpose, asking personal questions and making assumptions about your previous life. You didn't understand why he did it. You always shut him up and he was too pussy to attack even with Lensless in a room full of your personal bodyguards. Sometimes you thought he was getting off on bothering you, on not letting you have any sense of peace. But he barely fought back, letting you shut him up and bite back.       

        "Be quiet." And he was. Thank God.

        Your nose hadn't started to bleed yet. Your powers should be weaker from eating less and less these last few days but you were on a roll tonight. 

        "Why are you getting so defensive?" Lensless baited. "We've been plenty vulnerable with you about our lives. Why can't you do the same thing for us? Just tell us who came up with the name!"

        "Leave."

        The cave whooshes with a rush of air. The kindling scattered to the floor. Regathered by Omni before they can burn themselves out. You nod thanks. The cave was insulated from desert night chills but it was no camping trip, you needed the fire. 

        You feel your control on Scars start to slip. "Stay quiet." You close your eyes. Feeling power loosen on Lensless, even at a miles distance. By now, his mind is free but his body is not. You focus. Try to keep them both evenly controlled. You'd never had a workout quite like this. Regular human beings were so easy to control you were unused to challenge. Hadn't even had any resistance from non-psychics until that day on the roof. You wouldn't say it but the exercise was welcome but you almost started looking forward to making fools of them over the nightly bonfires- showing them all you had something they couldn't control. You.

        While you were focused, Mohawk hits you where it hurts. "By all means, leave those dickheads in the dark but why not tell the rest of us? We're buddies by now, yeah babe?" He knows your hold would break if you added another Mark to the roster. You can shut those assholes up, but not him.

        "None of your business." You grit out through ground teeth. Feeling Lensless's mind wriggle in your hold. You clamp the mental prongs down.

        He really shouldn't agitate you but you'd been avoiding him for days now. He just needed you to look at him again after that moment of union in the caves. "I think it is," Omni says. 

        Mohawks brows shoot up in surprise but he takes the advantage, willing to work with anyone if it meant getting under your skin. "See, babe? Everyone wants to know, even this shithead."

        You scowl at Omni, concentration waning. Scars mentally slashing at your power with steely claws. 

        "Shut up." 

        "Think of it like a campfire story, ya'know. You can even change the names around if ya want." You don't budge. Mohawk pouts, "Come oooonnn, I showed you mine, you show me yours isn't that how the sayin' goes?"

        "I said," your eyes snap open, control gone from the others, "shut up."

        It's Mohawk's turn to go quiet. Lensless returned to the fire in a snap that again, scatters the wood. The fire is restacked before you notice a change in light. 

        "Idiot." You tsk at a finally shut up Mohawk. 

        "Did I miss anything?" Lensless asked.

        "Just our dear Dregs getting defensive over the tiniest of questions." Scars said.

        "I'm not defensive." You say, defensively. 

        "Then tell us." Mohawk goaded. Your hold already gone with your concentration.

        "Yeah, I wanna know why you're so hot and evil and stuff." Lensless said.

        You scowled. None of them were stopping this line of questioning. Why the hell was Mohawk working with Scars, who he tried to kill last week, to get information out of you? Why the hell weren't Phantom or Gray stopping this?

        On the flip side, Phantom wanted to know. He knew you'd be upset if he asked. But the cool-headed image of him in your head wouldn't crack if he stayed quiet. When you stopped being angry you'd think it was survival move to stay quiet. Not speak against the majority.

        Gray shouldn't let the tensions rise, he knew, but you were so vexing. All he needed to do was let the others crack your brain open for him.

        Baldie tried to stop it, weakly. "She doesn't want to talk." Said as a mutter because he craved knowing all of you, but knew if he said nothing, you'd be pissed.

        "Stop white-knighting, dude, she's not gonna fuck you." Mohawk said and that shut him up. Fighting all of them was a stupid idea. But leaving in a huff, leaving you alone, was a stupider idea. The best thing he could do was sit by your side as silent moral support. Back your play.

        "I'm not fucking any of you." You say.

        Mohawk scoffed. "You fucked Wonder Boy over there."

        You lean forward, elbows to knees, "Yeah, and not you." That made his smirk crumple.

        He forced it to bounce back. "Not yet."        

        "Mmm, no." You say, a lilt in your voice, "Thing is, I just don't think you're all that attractive." It's a lie but one you try to sell. Happy to bruise an ego. "I never thought the Mark in my timeline was either. With him," you jerk your head toward Omni, "I just needed stress relief and we were in the dark, so who really cares?"

        Mohawk's lips purse like he'd sucked a lemon. "Funny you say that." He shifted, pulling something out of his back pocket. 

        Your phone. Caligula's belly flashing on the lock screen, fully charged.

        "Give me that." You don't want to waste what power you have left, not yet. "How is that even working?"

        "No shot." His shit-eating grin returns, "You could'a been explorin' the caves all this time, playing your stupid music-" Your eyes shift around, wondering who told. "We got crazy tech in these suits, babe. I had Art put a phone charger in mine cuz I kept missing your calls while I was workin' and you'd get pissed!" He slid the phone into a seam on his bicep, surly enough the charging sound dinged. He pulled it out. "-But you didn't think to ask cuz you're such a prissy bitch."

        "You want to call me that again?" It's a dare. 

        One he doesn't take because he has the upper hand. "So I started goin' through ya phone." He flips it to himself and unlocks it with a swipe of the thumb. "Can't believe your passcode's the same." He laughs, tapping at the screen. 

        "Oh no, you beat my Tetris Lite high score." You say, because there's nothing incriminating on your phone. Aside from vague text chats with Machine Head and Isotope. "What's your point?"

        "I'm so glad you asked." A few more taps and he where he wanted to be. An old photo album automatically downloaded to your phone from the cloud. You never looked at it, never cared to. Images carried over from your old phone before Machine Head issued you a new one, decked out with all sorts of encryption tech for secure messaging and calls. You didn't need pictures of your old work schedule or study notes from high school. But you never found the time or energy to delete them.

         He flipped the phone over, stretched out his arm and panned the image around the circle. Letting everybody take in the truth. You, five years ago, kissing Mark's cheek, him grinning stupid at the screen. Your third or fourth date, the best so far. It had been your lock screen for months. 

        "Still think I'm unattractive?" Mohawk smirked.

        Caught red handed. Your words catch in your throat. All of them processing what you had been to Mark. Even in the vaguest terms. Their hopeful puppy dog eyes. The memory of being happy and younger. 

        Mohawk started swiping through the pictures. One after another, in the short moments after the first. A cheek kiss to a lip kiss, the both of you blushing and smiling. "Doesn't this bring back memories, babe?"

        Phantom feels his heart melt. He'd taken those same photos with you. Lensless had too, though with a lot more tongue. Baldie had too, but he'd been too shy to go in for a kiss on the lips. Omni was never one for selfies, thought they were a waste of time. But that didn't stop him from collecting photos, asking friends or strangers to snap some when you were out. He remembers you making fun of him for how serious he always took it. Mohawk had plenty pictures of you on his phone that he hadn't brought along. Mostly of your eyes looking up at him pleadingly, lips stretched over his cock, tears messy on red cheeks. He was deeply disappointed not to find anything similar on your phone. Scars didn't know you young, but liked where this was going. The look on your face, the rage, the humiliation- oh so sweet. 

        Gray did not have any photos of you. Photos for fun weren't a thing on Viltrum. Tracksuit had plenty of nudes on his phone, mostly of himself. Now, he was glad he hadn't brought his phone. A little glad he was witnessing true reality TV trash in real time but still, he felt bad for you but- come on, drama like this doesn't come around every day. Maskless watched on less enthused. Here we go, more het-slop drama. Fantastic. 

        "Give me that," you warn low, "give me that right now." You're saving your power now. Strategizing how to hurt him best in one big burst. 

        "Or what? You'll tell me to shut up?" He swipes through another photo. Mark's back to the camera, your head over his shoulder, locked in a hug. "Man," he whistles through his teeth, "you've got a lot of these. Wanna know the best part?" He asks the others, not you. "These are years old and she still has 'em-"

        "I meant to delete them!" You can't help the outburst. 

        "And I went through 'em all, we stop showing up right around..." He stopped at your last photo of Mark. "Here. 'Bout five years ago," according to the photo app metadata. Mark sat across from the camera at a fancy dinner table. He was late to his own reservation, leaving you embarrassed and feeling like an inconsiderate dickhead. But when he came with roses in hand and you forgave him right away. You'd never been on a date like that again because not long after- you were through. 

        "Shit," Lensless took the phone, Mohawk let him have it, "We rock a suit, huh?"

        Scars leaned over his shoulder. Frankly disgusted by how sweet his own face could look. "Rocked her right after this picture was taken I wager."

        "No!" You should kill them all. Like, actually. You couldn't do them all at once though, you were deciding who to hurt.

        "Why haven't you taken any pictures with him in that long, huh?" Mohawk went on. "Trouble in paradise, babe? You know, you'd never have any with me." Bullshit. 

        Omni took the phone out of Lensless's hand. Swiped through the photos himself. You looked so sweet, so happy, and alive. Nothing like you did now, with your dead-tired eyes and permanent scowl. He knew what happened to you in vague terms, the jail sentence and the subsequent assassin position. He jumped to the conclusion that this dimensions version of him was a stupid fuck up who didn't put a ring on it, and couldn't protect you from the world. He'd given up on you like a fool. But it was lucky for him, he supposed. He knew for sure now, despite your denials of his love, you could and would love him back. One day.

        "We were friends." You lie back, "He was just affectionate-"

        "Friends?" Mohawk cackles, "Yeah, cuz I tongue-fuck all my homies. Really, babe? I thought you'd come up with something better than that. What? Are you embarrassed?" Clearly, you were. "Cuz you kept alllll these pictures after he broke up with you?" It's a guess but dead on. 

        The quiet rage is confirmation enough. 

        There is a collective internal glow of pride in everyone. You were in love with him at some point. Some part of you kept the evidence. You could love him back, the collective thought. Save for Tracksuit and Maskless, who were both thinking this was a little much. Who both felt bad for you. Who both knew they'd rip Mohawk's skin off if they were in your shoes, but make no move to do so.

        Mohawk didn't know when to stop, slinking forward to get in your face. "Aww, baby... Are you still in love with him? That's so stupid and sad."

        "Punch yourself in the balls. Hard as you can."

        You feel a rush of air and he's on the floor, writhing, clutching his family jewels, tears pricking the edges of his eyes before you can process your nose starting to bleed. You wobble on your feet, avoiding Baldie's balancing touch. You turn to Omni with Gray hovering behind him. Feeling things he couldn't truly explain.

        You say, "Crush it." Before you consider that you'd need the flashlight.

        Glass and metal splinter to the ground. Omni opened his hand, impressed you controlled him like that, but he doesn't think it'll happen again. Blood is coming out your nose in thick drops now. You wipe them away with the back of your hand. Head starting to throb as you walk slow, purposeful back to Mohawk. Still groaning. 

        You kneel. Everyone falling away but the two of you. Him in sweet, glorious pain, and you high off his agony. "You wanna know who gave me that name so bad?" His face is to the ground, trying to hide how much it hurts like the tough guy he is. You grab his hair in your fist, pulling his head up easily because despite everything, he'd always melt in to your touch. "You did." 

        They want answers so bad- they'll get 'em. 

        "My boss Machine Head, that robo-dick I murdered- he took it and ran with it because it upset me. You said I was the dregs of society- something stupid like that- and left me to rot. He thought it was so funny Dregs, his de facto murder-torture guy, isn't that nice? I was his favorite, you know? Machine Head always had these fucked up requests and I'd do it because I didn't care. I knew he wouldn't check, not because he trusted me, but because he knew I had nothing else. One guy, I made him skin himself alive with a potato peeler. Got pretty far before his body shut down. Another, I made him choose who to shoot first, his wife or his mistress- they both died, yeah, but man, him turning on his wife like that? Crazy." You didn't mean to ramble but you were. You were just so pent-up and angry, that a reminder of your Mark, the life you could've had, had you unwinding yard by yard. It was easy letting their flawed logic win for once, and it felt damn good. They had hurt you. 

        "I could've been something. When I met Cecil, he wanted me to work for him. Mark could've made that happen, but he let me fuck around New York murdering people for some drug-running robot dickhead." Mohawk's eyes began to clear of pain. Were rapt on you and your anger and how transparently awful you were. "I loved him so much, and now-" He's looking at you like he loves you and you hate it; say the nastiest thing you can think of, "If I ever get back, I'm killing his family, starting with that dumb bitch Eve. So no, you stupid motherfucker, I'm never going to love you and I'm never letting you fuck me." 

        You stand, emboldened by the silence. "Any more questions?" You only look at Mohawk. Curled, clutching his balls, but slowly, purposefully smiling at you.        

        "I think that about covers it." He says, voice weedy. 

        "Can you do me next?" Lensless asked.

        You were sapped of power. Couldn't if you wanted to. You also shouldn't, he'd cum but still, he'd hurt and you wanted them all to hurt. You say nothing, gather up a premade torch. Held it out to Tracksuit to light with friction- much quicker than the fire that didn't much like damp-ish cloth. He does, no questions asked. He'd also want to take a hike after all that. 

        You picked a cave and started. Not before saying, "Fuck you all."

        Then you were off. You don't let yourself stop and cry until you were triple sure you were out of hearing range. Even then, you go further, further, until your torch burnt down to the quick and singed your hand. You drop it, clasping the skin, crumbling to the ground as the first angry tears sprang forth. 

        You hated them. You wanted them to die but you needed them to survive. Why couldn't they just be normal? Couldn't they understand you were a different person? And now they knew your dirty secret. Sure to hold it over your neck like a guillotine.  

        You'd scream but they'd hear. Come running. Come mocking. So you sob as quietly as you can into your hands. 

        "I'm sorry he did that to you." He says. 

        You jump. Grab the smoldering remains of the torch off the ground and throw it at the voice, despite how it burns your hand. "Go away!"

        The torch bounced off Baldie's chest, fell to the ground, all light dead on impact. 

        "I know you're upset but..." He knows Phantom is near. Lurking. Can hear his mostly disguised breathing. He'd left after you when the bickering fizzled and Lensless and Scars left out of boredom. Phantom followed because he knew- Baldie had made up his mind.

        "Upset? I'm not upset!" You forcefully rub at your cheeks. "This is nothing."

        He frowns, though you can't see it. "I have something to show you."

        "I don't care." You say. "I don't want to see anything that isn't Mark's dead body. Okay? Just-" You take a wobbly breath, "Fuck off. I can't do this anymore."

        The admission almost pulls a sob out of you, and you have to fight to hold it in.

        "I know," it's soft, "I know, that's why I need to show you. You don't have to see any of them."

        You're fighting to hold in sobs, barely processing what he says, "Please. Just go." 

        "(Y/n) I-"

        "Die." You splutter without power, "Just drop dead or go away. I'm done." Soon as the words come out your hands go to your head. You almost did it again. You didn't want him to die, not really. 

        The sobs come harder. You're hysterical. Soon to crack and scream and then he wouldn't be alone with you anymore.

        He scoops you up in his arms. Apologizing, keeping his grip gentle as possible as he flew deeper into the caves. Back to the hidden entrance he'd visited and re-visited since Phantom told him of its existence. You beat your fists against his chest, his neck, his face, but he couldn't be angry at you. He was angry at them for making you feel so low.

        He doesn't speak as he moves the rock, floating inside, and sealing the tomb behind you both. He sees Phantom's silhouette as the rock slid flush to the wall. An agreement passed quietly between them.

        You heard movement, unable to place the exact sound. Like Styrofoam peanuts squeaking past one another. But there was no way there'd be Styrofoam peanuts here. You blink, looking around but seeing nothing in the absolute dark. The air felt different here, wetter, smelling of sod and sulfur. 

        "One sec." He said, floating down to the ground with the least amount of creepy-crawlies. In the times he'd come back, he started the beginnings of a camp. Stole away supplies from Gray's material cache to make your own cots. Picked a spot a few feet up from the bug rivers where you could watch but be in no danger if you decided to hop down and explore.

        He clacked two rocks together. Sparks rained as the fire pit he'd built lit. He blew, added more kindling from the pile he'd prepared, nurtured the fire in a matter of milliseconds. The light illuminated the cavern around you, but your eyes could barely process what you were seeing. 

        You were beside her, yards away. Sat in a high chair at her bug court. The massive white thing that was some mutated sand-mite-termite-whatever-the-fuck queen. She did not notice or care about the fire. Did not mind your sudden presence. Her mandibles twitched as her children flitted in and out of her mouth. 

        "What the fuck?"

        Your brain doesn't even think of food. Water. Too stuck on the giant bug. But you know what it means, these are the first living creatures you'd seen since arriving over three weeks ago. 

        "We can stay here." He says soft behind you, sure to give plenty of space for you to process. "We have everything we need." You don't reply, jaw dropped open, taking in the sight. The bugs skittering in and out of their dens set into the walls. "You don't have to go back and deal with them ever again."

        It's like a dream come true. Too good to be true.

        You don't feel yourself speak. "They'll come looking."

        "They haven't found this place yet and if we stay quiet, they won't. But I'll be honest, I didn't find this place myself. Someone else did."

        You turn, eyes wide, "Who?" God, don't say Scars. Don't say Lensless.

        "He wants to tell you himself." He knew it'd matter to you who it was, but Phantom asked him not to tell. He was cagey about why. "But he's helping us. I think tomorrow he'll stage your disappearance and join us. It's nobody bad, I promise." 

        "I-" You look back to the bugs, undulating below. None of them cared you existed. Minding their own buggy business, not begging you for sex or love or attention. If Baldie brought you here they were likely not venomous. They didn't attack or swarm or even run away. "We'll really be safe here?"

        "I'll make sure of it." He said.

        Something in you breaks. Resolve or dignity.

        Because you lunge at Baldie, tears returning. Stuff your face to his chest, arms going tight around his forearms and middle. The hopelessness that'd become a part of your everyday slowing leaching out in his hold. 

        "Thank you, thank you, thank you," it's muffled against his chest. His arms wriggle easily out of your hold and drape over your back. He pulls you closer, inhaling your scent, feeling your skin, and is at peace.

        "It's alright, I've got you."

[lo1k-diamonds]

Bubbles 💜 Part 4

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook's Entry

“If you want to be with me.”

PAIRING: Jungkook x (f) Reader

SUMMARY: Jungkook did change - he learned from his mistakes. Did you?

WORD COUNT: 7.4 k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: arguing, crying, angst, making up, semi-public, fingering, orgasm control/denial, begging, soft Dom Kook if you squint, nipple play, mirror sex, unprotected sex, confessions

PARTS: [1] [2] [3] > [4] <

A.N. And here we have it! I'll miss this couple, they're intense 😁 Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy it! 💜 (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad

“So what do I get for you?”

You barely noticed the girl whose name you couldn’t recall, waiting for you now that the conversation about Jeon Jungkook had ended.

“A porn star martini,” you bit quietly, eyes quickly drifting to the couple just a few tables over, at the bar. Cold sweats chilled your spine as you watched Jungkook laugh and thank the bartender for the beer, all while the girl with him all but drooled all over his bicep.

“Stay calm.”

Youngjoo was the voice of reason, and it stung you. “I am,” you bit at her, glancing at her before staring at the scene again. You couldn’t look away, both dreading and anticipating how that would unfold. “I recognize her,” you admitted, giving in to the anxiety lacing its claws around your heart. “She was at the party, hitting on him a week ago. She is a model.”

“Okay, and what did he say about it?”

You whipped your head, glaring at her. “I told you before, he laughed it off!”

Youngjoo rolled her eyes. “I mean after that. Haven’t you talked about it after that?”

You looked away. “No.”

Youngjoo turned to you with raised eyebrows. “Why not? Are you guys not talking?”

You shrugged. “We’ve sent a few texts. We’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been busy?” she repeated, skeptically. “I mean, of course you have, but it’s not that. You went from not leaving his side to barely not talking?” You could tell by her tone that she was incredulous. “You need to talk to him! You need to be on the same page about all this. Don’t let some misunderstanding happen again. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not. Just talk to him first.”

You clenched your jaw, finally looking at your best friend to avoid glaring at the girl clinging to Jungkook. “If he wants his fuck boy life, then—”

“Stop putting words in his mouth! So what if some girl hit on him? He went home with you!”

“Actually, he dropped me off so he could help his brother with the roof of his place…”

“Oh, m— Won’t you stop it?! Since when are you this insecure about him?”

You glared at her once again, snapping in a caustic tone, “Since he has models grovelling on their knees, begging for seconds!”

“But he chose you.” You straightened back up on the sofa, and she continued, “He could have them if he wanted, but he chose you.”

Your eyes were locked with hers as you silently fought her without a word. You doubted she was right, and she reproved the way you were handling things. You could see it in her eyes — you promised Jungkook and yourself you wouldn’t make the same old mistakes. When Youngjoo had asked you about getting back together after you had hurt so much over the last year, you had assured her you were more mature now; you both were. So what the hell were you—

“Hi.”

You turned, shuddering with the sound of his voice before you saw him standing there, black leather jacket, wet hair curling over his ears, and a half-drunk beer bottle in his hand. 

“Hi, Jungkook. How are you?”

Youngjoo put you to shame with the way she effortlessly made casual conversation while you couldn’t even say something. Instead, your eyes were on the girls around you, who were casually listening in and ogling Jungkook. 

They threw quizzical glances at you — do you know him?

They gave Youngjoo looks, too — can you introduce us?

But Youngjoo ignored them, and you did the same.

You heard your name, so your attention was pulled into the conversation. “—that she was coming with you and a few friends to the SX tonight, and I thought I’d join you.”

“What a great idea,” Youngjoo praised, probably with more emphasis than she should have. Same as your best friend’s, Jungkook’s eyes were also on you, but unlike him, you couldn’t seem to hold his gaze. Your stomach twisted as you tried ignoring your sweaty palms. You felt like a teenager, the furthest from mature you had ever been. “How about we go get a round of shots? My treat!”

She clapped for the others to follow her, and although the girls offered resistance, Youngjoo managed to drag them along. You got up, too, ready to follow after them, but Jungkook’s presence kept you locked in. Not that he touched you or overtly expressed anything towards you, but his presence next to yours, his arm brushing yours, your hands grazing as his cologne reached your nose, made you stay, standing on shaky legs.

Your eyes stayed fixed on the floor as you took a deep, soothing breath. 

“What’s wrong?”

His question made you finally meet his eyes, only to have your stomach drop. A week ago, you thought it would be best to talk directly and clear things out, but now you just didn’t have the guts. Maybe Youngjoo was right — you were too insecure about him and yourself. You needed that conversation, but not now.

You knew what he’d tell you — you could already see his gentle eyes as he drew you close and said, I know those eyes.

So you took a deep breath and replied before he could.

“I’m just tired,” you explained, attempting a smile. “I’m going home.”

He placed his beer on a nearby table. “I’ll take you home.”

“Stay,” you insisted. “You're having fun.”

“Fun?” he asked, shaking his head slightly with a smile. “Nah, no reason for me to stay. Besides, you don’t look so good. I’ll take you home.”

He gave you a nod to lead the way, and you made your way through the crowd. Once in the lobby, you took your phone from your purse to text Youngjoo about leaving with Jungkook and followed him quietly out into one of the many streets in Itaewon.

Jungkook turned around to check if you were still following and slowed down so you could walk side by side through the Friday night crowd.

“How’s the apartment?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Fine, it’s quiet,” you confirmed, meaning to reassure one of the first things he worried about after sleeping there with you the first weekend.

“Good, that’s good. Maybe we just caught a neighbour partying that weekend.”

You nodded and kept going, eyes lost in the partying crowd, smiling and laughing, unlike you.

“What about the washing machine? Still giving you issues?”

“No, the plumber you called fixed it. Thank you.”

Jungkook smiled at you. “You can always do laundry at mine if it gives you problems again.”

You smiled back, closing your coat a little more to stop the winter cold.

“Are the elevators working again?”

“Oh yeah, they fixed it the morning you left. It’s only been two weeks, but I’ve already noticed that they keep at least one of them working.”

“That must be annoying.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I live on the second floor; I take the stairs most of the time.”

“That’s good.” His voice sounded distant for a second. “What about work? Is that other department head still giving you a hard time?”

“I’m still adjusting…”

Your smile dropped from your face, and he instantly reached out to grab your hand. “It’s a phase. Just wait until they get to know you and how good you are.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed his hand and smiled genuinely, noticing the stars in his eyes the moment he stole a glance.

But then he had to let go of your hand to get into the underground parking lot, squeezing in the narrow corridor to allow the many people wanting to reach the street to pass you in the opposite direction.

You asked him to lead, as you didn’t know where he had parked his motorcycle, and he did, unable to talk to you above the noise of roaring engines and loud people, who were excited to party. The same groups kept both of you pressed against the wall as you went further down the stairs, until you exited them on the third level.

It was suddenly much quieter, with faint echoes and the occasional sound of cars driving along the parking lot.

The silence almost gave you whiplash, your ears ringing faintly.

“And the—” Jungkook’s voice was so loud it echoed. He cleared his throat. “The team? Your colleagues, are they nice?”

“Very nice, actually.”

He nodded quietly as he led the way to his red motorcycle. Once beside it, he pulled the keys out of his black leather jacket pocket, then twirled them once.

“Should I take you to a doctor instead?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows. “I mean, you said you’re tired a lot…”

“No, I’m not sick,” you assure him, noticing his eyes avoiding you. Suddenly, the silence felt heavy again. “Why?”

“Am I… Should I… I mean,” he tried, grabbing his keys firmly in a fist. “If I’m bothering you, I can… give you space.”

You paled. “What?”

“It’s okay, I understand that it’s a lot with the moving back and the new job and… we have our issues, too. I’m sure it’s difficult, I don’t want to make it harder for you.”

Your blood ran so loudly in your ears that you didn’t know if you heard him clearly. Yet, this one word caught your attention. “Issues?”

Your eyes instantly teared up, and your guts twisted. That was it. You knew it, he was done with you.

“I don’t mean—” His wide brown eyes as he waved his hands tried to interrupt your thoughts. “No, I mean—”

“So things aren’t going well,” you thought out loud, feeling a chill up your spine.

“Wait, that’s not what I’m saying.”

In a split second, your eyes were full to the brim, and there was a sob about to shake you, and you instinctively spun on your heels to hide it. “We can talk about this later—”

“No,” he cut in and caught your arm before you could make an escape. Instead, he spun you around, making the back of your legs collide gently against his bike. “I’m never going to let you walk away without things being clear. Never again,” he promised, looking deep into your eyes. Your guts twisted for an entirely different reason. His eyes were puffy but firm, and suddenly your heart ached; you missed him so much. “I’m just… I’m worried. You’re quiet and distant, and I don’t want you to feel like you have an obligation to be with me or something.”

The blood drained from your face. “You— You don’t want to be with me?”

“Of course I do,” he scolded with a hint of a frown. He cupped your cheek. “What nonsense are you saying? Would I even mention it if I didn’t want to be with you?”

Your breath hitched. “You just said something about space.”

“If you need it because—” He looked straight into your eyes, drawing his thumb over your cheek in a caress. “Because I don’t want to be something you worry about.”

Your mouth opened to object — he wasn’t a problem, he was home — but then you closed it as your eyebrows drew closer together.

“So I am,” he said quietly. “Something you worry about.”

Your eyes lowered stubbornly, even as tears pooled again. But then his hand dropped from your face, and it unintentionally stung your heart.

So you raised your gaze sharply. “You’re right, you are, so I’ll just get it off my chest.”

As soon as you said it, you were breathless, watching his glistening eyes. The fear of everything falling apart froze you for a second, but then you swallowed dryly and decided to open up.

“I don’t think I’m a jealous person, I just— I think I have healthy boundaries, that’s all. In the end, I can’t, nor do I want to, control you or anyone you do whatever with. I don’t want to deny you freedom or whatever, either. But I don’t see how I’m supposed to keep quiet. If you need multiple women to give you attention and hit on you, then maybe restarting just isn’t a good idea.”

He just looked at you the whole time, not interrupting, not moving. He listened attentively to every word you said, until he raised an eyebrow. “Wait, is that the problem? You think I want that? Is that why you’re acting distant?”

You crossed your arms over your chest to hide the tremble. “I’m not…”

“Is that why you text me less and are tired so often?”

“I’ve been really tired…”

He took a step closer to you. “Is that why you don’t come to mine anymore?”

You pursed your lips, looking away. Now that he said it, you had to admit that, once again, you were a coward in many ways.

“Is that why you say you’ll come to a party with me and then don’t show up?”

Your eyes found his immediately, and your hesitation must have been evident in your face. By the way he looked at you, you knew there was no use in keeping secrets.

“I did show up. Remember Soyeon? She helped you with a class one or two years ago? She was there. And Haechan? He graduated with me. He was there too.”

Jungkook nodded slowly. “I know, I saw them.”

His patience was enough for you to know he was waiting for more, and you pressed your lips before letting it out. “I arrived before you did. I saw you arrive, and by the time I got to the kitchen, I overheard Seungkwan saying something about you needing to be free and not doing relationships and all that…”

Jungkook groaned loudly, covering his face with his hands for a moment before suddenly wrapping his arms around you to let his forehead fall to your shoulder.

“You gave me such a scare.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused about his reaction but happy to hold him, too.

“I thought you were giving up on us.”

You scoffed playfully. “And your reflex is to give me space?”

He snapped back up to look at you. “I don’t want to push you away!”

“Well, you are! Or would,” you corrected, biting your tongue. “Shouldn’t you be pulling me in instead of—”

He pulled you in by the waist. “I am.” You pressed your lips again, and he sighed. “Why would you listen to anything Seungkwan says? What does he know about what I want or do? I’m guessing you didn’t stick around to hear my reply.”

You blushed and looked down at his chest. “I… did not… So what do we do now?”

“About what?”

“About how I feel.”

He hummed, looking up as though recalling. “You mean about your jealousy?”

“Yes,” you said, still looking away. “Maybe I don’t even have the right to be jealous…”

“You do.” He pulled your arms around his neck. “If you want to.”

You scoffed. “If I want to be jealous?”

“If you want to be with me.”

Your mocking smile dropped before the seriousness in his eyes. “You know I do.”

He nodded. “I do, but… Can we be more?”

Your eyebrows quirked. “More than together?”

“Officially together,” he whispered, looking at you as your guts twisted again.

“We aren’t? I mean, I thought— We’re either together or we’re not,” you pointed out, swallowing hard.

“Right, that’s good.” He squeezed you closer. “No, forget I said anything.”

“No, that—” Your breath caught as you pressed your palms to his chest, grounding yourself. “What does that mean?” you asked, seeking clarity while your sight grew blurry. “I never thought of it in any other way, did you—” Your voice wavered with a pain you couldn’t hold back. “Did you— Those girls—”

“No. Look at me,” he urged, searching your eyes now full of tears. “No. I didn’t know how you felt about us, but—”

“We said we’d try again!” you exploded, the tears streaming down your face. “What do you think that means?!”

You were trembling, unable to keep your pain and fear from lashing out, but he didn’t even flinch. He kept you close and guided your foreheads to touch. “It means we love each other. I know that. It means you’re mine, just like I’m yours. I know that,” he insisted. “But I needed to know how you thought about it. I… You’ve been so distant for the past week.”

“You could have asked me about it.”

“We should have talked, clearly,” he instantly agreed, looking deeply into your eyes despite your snarky comment. “If you knew how much I want to be with you, you would never have gotten jealous like this. You would have never ignored me after you just saw me talking to someone—”

You smacked his shoulders. “Can you blame me?!” It was hard not to cry, but suddenly you were angry all over again. “I thought you were keeping your options open or regretting giving up your fuck boy life!” His hands were firmly on your waist as you tried not to sob. “You knew how I felt and still—!”

“I didn’t know you felt like this.”

“I told you!! And you laughed!!”

Jungkook frowned, about to shake his head and deny ever laughing, when suddenly it hit him. “You mean at my work dinner party? No, but I didn’t think you were serious!”

“What? Why not?!”

“Because there’s no way I’d ever look at someone else,” he deadpanned, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not when I have you back in my life, it’s just— I thought you were joking!”

You caught your breath, realizing as he tried defending himself that you were crazy angry. You had tears on your face, red cheeks, were panting, and your throat felt rough.

“Well, I wasn’t,” you managed to mutter after calming down. Meanwhile, you could see Jungkook thinking about things as well, and he looked calm and sober, never taking his eyes or hands off you.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I can’t stop anyone from talking to me, but I have told anyone who asked that I was taken.”

“At the party, you introduced me as your friend.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to make sure!” he blurted out, and as you frowned, he rushed to add, “Not because I’m not in it one thousand percent, but because I don’t want to put words into your mouth or go too fast! Remember? I don’t want to put you in that position again.”

Your lips trembled as your heart ached. You were clearly the one who hadn’t learned from her mistakes.

“And tonight? The girl you saw?” he continued. “She asked me if I was lying about being with someone because she hasn’t seen me with anyone in a while.”

Your jaw hardened as you grumbled, “Well, then. Let’s go back to the club and give her a show—”

“No,” he cut in and stopped you before you could leave the comfortable position you were in, between him and his motorcycle. “I don’t care about what anyone thinks, but I do care about us. I’ll just give your name next time, you fight it out.”

“You want me to fight her?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow as he hugged you.

He chuckled, “No, obviously. I want to walk in with you hand in hand and hug you and kiss you without worrying that you won’t like it because we’re going too fast.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” You were in disbelief. “I’d always like it.”

“Always?” He looked into your eyes, and your knees were weak. You nodded. “You wouldn't think it's too fast?”

You shook your head eagerly. “No! I want to be with you, the whole deal, the whole package. It's not too fast,” you raised your hand to caress his cheek, “if anything, it's too slow. We need to make up for the time we lost.”

He nodded quietly, licking his lips. “Can we pick it back up where we left it?”

You grabbed his leather jacket and pulled him close. “Yes. Just kiss me, I miss you—”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you were never so happy to forget about whatever you were saying. You dove headfirst, showing him you were as desperate and crazy about him as he was about you. You could barely breathe, and all thoughts about where you were flew out the window. All you cared about was licking the lingering taste of beer still in his mouth while you grabbed his hair just as firmly as he grabbed yours.

The more he consumed you, pushing his tongue past your lips and sinking his fingers into your hips, the more heated you became. Your thoughts were clouded as you got intoxicated — his taste, his scent, his touch, the lip ring grazing your lip, his hair curling around your fingers. You weren’t thinking, you just had a visceral need to be his again. Not just to correct your wrongs, but to rewrite history.

His hand on your hip raked your dress up to squeeze your ass and you did the only sensible thing possible — you sat on his motorcycle. Instantly, your leg laced around his waist, pulling him closer to you. The hard-on grazing your core told you everything you needed to know; it was your carte blanche.

“Kook, don’t make me wait,” you begged once he gave you a reprieve and kissed down your jaw.

He wasn’t shy about humping you, gripping your leg around him so firmly you were sure it would bruise. “What do you want, bubbles?”

“Need,” you corrected, unapologetically grabbing his head and squeezing your tits between your arms in the process, hoping he’d notice what was right under his nose.

“What do you need?” he breathed, dragging his lips over your chest until he hid in the valley between your breasts.

The anticipation alone was making you throb and clench, gluing your underwear to you while you wished you had no clothes separating your skins. “You. Inside me,” you moaned, feeling his tongue licking every stretch of skin he could while he ground against you roughly. If he were inside you, you’d be undone by now. “Please,” you begged, your voice wavering as you writhed. You leaned in to speak as closely to his ear as possible. “I need to be yours again, please.”

Your voice faded into a whimper when he bit down on one of your tits, yet it wasn’t that that made you gush between your legs, bracing yourself for what you wanted most. He placed you on the bike more firmly, wrapping your other leg around him, then pushed your underwear to the side and skimmed your dripping folds ever so lightly. Enough for you to moan and for him to groan against your chest.

“Fuck… bubbles,” he sounded muffled but you didn’t care, proud that he knew you were more than ready for him.

You weren’t shy from incentivizing him to continue, whispering in his ear, “Feel that? For you,” you moaned, trembling from the sensations shaking you. “I’m so ready for you, you’ll feel so good, please…”

You squirmed, trying to make his fingers touch you more firmly where you needed them, but as usual, Jungkook did what he pleased. He chose to pull his hand away despite your request, and as your pleas shifted to whimpers, he pushed your coat over your shoulder. You shimmied, easily taking it off.

Then, he slid the zipper of your dress down your back and pushed the straps down your arms. Your skin tingled under his touch while you were dazed by the hickeys he was leaving across your chest. Even feeling him unhook your bra didn’t startle you; you only realized his goal when he pushed away all barriers and finally got a nipple inside his mouth.

You had to make your best effort not to let your moans echo in the parking lot. It was so hard, you started trembling, sinking your nails into his scalp, when his hips snapped forward as though he wished he were inside you right now. You showed him you wanted the same by helping him dry humping into you, the fraction of friction enough to have you begging yet again, but he had other plans.

He kept nibbling and torturing your nipple in his mouth while his free hand got under your skirt again, unabashedly going straight for your core.

Your efforts to suppress your moans made your very bones shake as his thumb gently drew circles on your clit. Every new motion elicited a new shudder, to the point you were holding your breath and letting your body unfold along with the pleasure. It was so singular and soft, immediately contrasted by his mouth suckling, making your toes curl.

“Kook, please,” you cried as soon as you could, surfacing to draw a quick breath before sinking into it again.

“What do you need, bubbles?” he asked again, nuzzling and pecking all over your chest as though he was so lost in you, he no longer knew what you needed.

As if that was possible.

“You. Inside me,” you managed to say through the shivers, making your lower belly coil. Every lap of his thumb was a threat to your sanity, pushing you closer. You sank your nails into his scalp and crossed your legs behind him so he’d stay as close as possible. “I need you, I missed you… Kiss me, please.”

Your desperation was obvious in your breathy words, and your heart thumped when his lips left your chest to acquiesce. His mouth was quick to slot in with yours, instantly seeking your taste with his tongue as though being inside you meant in every way possible. You kissed him harder, knowing it would bruise your lips. His thumb disappeared momentarily as he adjusted the clothes between your bodies, and you moaned breathlessly in anticipation. Only what suddenly invaded you was not his hard dick as you had hoped, but two fingers that he curled inside you.

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut further when he started playing with your slick, getting his fingers properly coated by pulling away and pushing back inside you multiple times.

“How— How could you—” you complained, finally managing to open your eyes.

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he kept you as close as could be with your foreheads pressed together. He chuckled sensually, and you throbbed around his fingers. “Did you forget where we are?” he asked. Your lashes fluttered as you tried to think, but it was impossible while he fingered you with that deliciously slow and consistent rhythm. “Besides, I have to make you a good girl. Make you earn it first.”

His playfulness made your stomach flutter, clenching around his fingers before you even realized how close you were. You gripped him harder, closer to you, so needy you couldn’t think further than him, right there, with you.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, trembling with want. He ghosted your lips as you breathed, “Whatever you want, I—”

Everything happened so fast. Your mind was invaded with possibilities of what he might have wanted, from you getting on your knees to suck him to him turning you around and fucking you raw, either way covering your insides white. As if your fantasies weren’t enough, he raised his thumb, trying to give you extra friction. For a split second, you were sure you’d come in seconds.

But then the loud noise of a door slamming open broke through your haze, and everything stilled. Jungkook’s hand stopped as he hugged you closer, hiding your face in the crook of his neck with a possessive grip that quickly turned into a soothing caress.

You heard the laughter and steps of people entering the parking lot not so far from you while your racing heart calmed inside your chest. Jungkook’s scent and embrace were enough to keep you relaxed, but then his hand slid off you slowly, and you cried out quietly. His neck muffled it, but still.

“No…” You whined. “I was right there.”

“Sorry, bubbles.”

You sulked hard and pulled away abruptly to glare at him, but your chin dropped instead. He was casually licking your slick off his fingers while the group of people got inside their car a few rows behind you.

You blinked, befuddled, and before you could say something, he was already kissing you again. The way he pressed himself to you, hard, hot, and tasting of you, scrambled your mind entirely. Licking your taste on his tongue made you grab him close and press him to your needy core. It was enough to move your hips, dry humping him while his hands grabbed your ass and helped.

You were so turned on that the lightest touch was enough to set you ablaze. “Fuck, please… Jungkook, please…”

“I want to, bubbles.” He groaned, kissing down your jaw. “You drive me fucking insane.” You agreed eagerly, nuzzling him while your hands tried to search for his belt. “But I want to take you home.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, unbuckling his belt when he stopped your hands. You faintly heard tires screeching as a car left the parking lot, but your mind was focused on Jungkook.

“Now,” he clarified softly, raising his hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I need to take you home.”

Suddenly, the lust dictating your every move receded. Your mind was brought to a conversation you two had one month ago, and everything was clearer.

I hate that I brought you here 'cause I wanted to see you here, in my home, as if that could bring back what we once were.

Jungkook always needed to bring you home because you were the woman of his dreams. The one he loved with his whole heart, whom he could never hate.

You cupped his cheeks and nodded, kissing him tenderly. “Take me home, Kook.”

His precious smile meant everything. He quickly helped you fix your clothes and put your coat back on before buckling his belt and giving you the extra helmet he always kept under the seat. Once seated behind him, you kissed the back of his neck before putting your helmet on and holding onto him.

As usual, as soon as the motorcycle engine roared, you let all thoughts fade from your mind. There were no more worries or doubts, just Jungkook taking you back home, as if you had never left.

The way to his home was paved with tenderness and care. He drove carefully, not too slow, not too fast, grabbing your hand on his chest whenever he had to stand still at a red light. You responded by pressing yourself flush to him, molding to his body like a blanket. You knew by the way he touched your leg sporadically or squeezed your hand that he loved every second.

When he parked in the underground garage of his apartment building, no words were exchanged. Not even all the way up to his apartment. You both moved in silent tandem, storing the helmets away, then holding hands and making way to the elevator. You stood close, easily curled up to his chest while you waited, and the familiarity of that moment soothed you. It was just like three weeks ago, just like one year ago; thankfully, nothing had changed.

When you entered his apartment, you hung up your coat on the coat hanger, the same one he had kicked to the floor in a fury one month ago, when you fought. When you drove him insane because, despite the words out of his mouth, the one thing Jungkook never wanted was for you to leave.

You smiled at the memory. “I’m home,” you sighed, stepping in.

His living room was just as you remembered; the blanket you used to snuggle on the couch was still there, as was your favorite coffee mug next to the coffee machine in the kitchen. 

Before you could turn around and tell him how much those little things made you feel at home, his arms wrapped around you from behind. And just like that, you were more than welcomed back, more than safe.

You pulled his arms further around your middle, making him drape over you like a blanket this time.

“Bubbles…”

His whisper in your ear was enough for you to turn around and meet his waiting lips. He didn’t relent his hold for one second; instead, he pulled you flush to him, kissing you gently before softly picking you up from the floor. You held onto him with arms and legs, sighing into his kiss as he carried you.

He placed you gently on the bed, and you were quick to get on your knees so your lips would stay connected to his at all times. You were so heated, pulling his shirt so he’d take it off and welcoming him straight after when he returned his mouth to yours, that you barely noticed his deft fingers sliding your zipper down. Yet as soon as you did, you peeled the dress and everything else as quickly as possible. The moment your lips connected once again, he was unbuckling his belt, and the very sound made you clench unapologetically. You wanted him so much you wouldn’t be able to think until all of him was all over you.

You tried to move, but your foot got stuck, forcing you to turn and look. Your heels were getting tangled in the sheets and you chuckled, sitting back on your butt to take them off. Jungkook smiled too, never taking his eyes off you as he stripped naked. Yet, your eyes drifted from him to the mirror behind him after throwing your heels on the floor. Not just because of the view of his round ass and sculpted back, but the whole image — you on the bed, naked, waiting for him. It reminded you of the first time you got back together, when he moved the mirror on purpose so he could see you.

Before he could put his knees on the bed and embrace you again, you got on all fours and reached out your hand to him. He grabbed it instantly, letting you guide him behind you to face the mirror too.

“I want you to see me every time you look into this mirror,” you told him, kissing his hand before putting it on your body. “Even when I’m not here.”

He brushed his hands down your curves slowly, admiring you in front of him as he got on the bed. Soon, his whole body was a blanket again, covering you from head to toe. His strong chest pressed to your back as his broad shoulders framed you, leaving nothing to the imagination, not even his excitement.

Yet your mind didn’t go there immediately. Instead, you basked in his sweet caresses and kisses as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I always have, bubbles…”

Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest as you shuddered, knowing he was telling the truth. Knowing that was how deep you were for him.

Jungkook didn’t take long to trace, kiss, and nuzzle every bit of skin you left for him to find, taking pleasure in nibbling and tickling you so you’d squirm and chuckle. Meanwhile, you had no gripe with pressing yourself further into him, scratching his arms, and bucking your hips, trying to get him to align with you. 

At first, he chuckled, playing along, but eventually, he grabbed your hips. “Eager?”

“I’m a good girl, and we’re no longer in a parking lot,” you replied. He nipped your shoulder in retaliation, but you weren’t taunting him. “We’re home, so won’t you come home to me?”

He groaned, grabbing your hair to turn your head so you’d meet his lips. His mouth was needy, almost rough on yours, and you matched him. You were busy meeting his tongue and trying to lick his lip ring when you felt him pressing the head of his cock to your entrance.

Your chin immediately dropped, turning a needy kiss into a messy one, especially when he thrusted shallowly, trying to stretch you to his size. You both groaned, loving the searing pleasure climbing your spine as he bottomed out.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and you whimpered. His fingers started drawing gentle circles on your clit and your hips buckled against him. You could feel him sliding so well, melting under the strength of his arms and the sweetness of his lips. “You’re so wet…”

You bit your lip, letting the way he fit inside you override your senses. It was so easy to let go and forget everything when Jungkook kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he rubbed your clit slowly. His hips were even slower, barely moving while he stayed perfectly hard inside you, as though telling you how amazing you felt was more important than fucking you.

It drove you wild; the more gentle his touch, the more you needed more. The more he told you how much he wanted you, the more you craved him. To the point that when he bit your earlobe playfully, you snapped your hips back, making him reach deep and bottom out again.

His hand automatically striked your asscheek, but you felt it like a caress.

“Needy,” he whispered, nibbling your shoulder, and you sighed.

“Only for you.”

His hand darted from your ass to your hair, pulling ever so slightly so you’d arch your back. His hips gained a rhythm, snapping to yours more vehemently while he suckled and took nips at your neck. 

You grunted, dazed and happy. You wanted everything, from his kisses and teases to the way he rutted into you and caged you in like you were his. His fingers left your hair to your core again, knowing how to softly pave the way of your pleasure while your walls clenched around his length, feeling him slide into you so well. The sloppy sounds made you proud.

Until he slowed down and bit your ear again, knowing your squirms were because he was keeping you on edge for far too long.

You were about to call him out when he whispered, “I want to look at you.”

You raised your head to look into the mirror, having completely forgotten about it, and met his gaze. His eyes glistened sweetly, trained on you while his hips kept a sweet rhythm, and you sighed. This was all about you two, not whatever he did before he found you again.

So you raised a hand and guided his sweet lips to meet yours, telling him with a slow kiss that you loved him. You could always have hot, frenzied sex, but right now, you wanted that sweet loving only he could give you.

He understood you perfectly. He pulled out and sat on the bed, grabbing your hand to keep you close while giving you the choice of what would happen next. You rose to your knees and smiled at him, unable to hide how much your heart thrummed with his gentleness toward you. Then, you leaned back, splaying your hair on his pillow while pulling him over you. His eyes eagerly took in your silhouette, including your smile, as you spread your legs and welcomed him. You belonged in his bed, on his pillows, and he belonged to you.

He instantly crushed you to the mattress, sweetly wrapping your legs around him as he kissed you deeply. He didn’t just love you with passion; he lived it too.

Aligning himself with you took a second, and sliding into you, filling you whole, was instantaneous. You gasped as he pecked your cheek and moved with him, knowing this was it. He wasn’t just enjoying feeling you, nor guiding your pleasure in ways that blew your mind. He was looking at you with love and desire unfolding with every thrust. Every time your bodies pieced together, stealing your breath away between one moan and another, his starry eyes stayed on yours, locked together, strengthening the foundations of your commitments until you were ready to cry out.

“Kook…” you breathed, quickly squinting your eyes. You wanted to look at him, but as your insides coiled, ready to be released at any moment, it was harder and harder.

“I’m here, bubbles,” he assured you. He grabbed your hands, pressing them to the mattress next to your head, and you knew that look. Knew that angle, recognised the snap of his hips, and soon the burn stretched through your body, making you keen. He knew you so incredibly well that you weren’t surprised when he sharpened his thrusts. There was no hesitation, just pure want and something deeper and gentler.

Your nails sank into the back of his hands as you bucked your hips, helping him to the last of your strength. Your breathing changed, and so did your moans as you arched your back, and he sank into you. He searched for your mouth, kissing your lips once, twice, with the same cadence as his hips until you collapsed. 

You arched against him, unable to keep your eyes locked with his or that sweet kiss any longer. Your climax floored you, making you scream and tremble as you felt everything. The way he groaned as he hid in your neck, the way his body framed yours with as much gentleness as fucking that need allowed him, and finally, the way he throbbed inside you, releasing warm ropes of cum to make you feel complete.

His lips peppering your neck with kisses quickly reached your own, pressing gently before he lay beside you. 

He pulled you into his arms as you both caught your breath. You rested your head on his chest, and he grabbed your hand. 

“I love you,” he whispered, brushing your knuckles with his lips.

You could hardly be happier. “I love you, too,” you said, kissing his sweaty pec. 

“I need you to know it,” he insisted, looking into your eyes. “When you came back, I felt pathetic. You reminded me of how happy I was before you left me. Of how much it hurt to lose you. Of what I did to try to forget you and how it changed me. So much so, I almost lost you in this whole thing. Even when I knew, as soon as I saw you again, that I wanted no one else. That I wasn't happy with the way I was doing things. That I still love you and want to spend my life with you, even if you tore my life apart when you left.”

You frowned. “Kook—”

“No, I’m saying it because that’s where I stand. This opportunity with you is not just… a gamble or giving it a shot. I love you, I want you, my life isn’t complete without you. No one could ever take your place. It’s been two years since I met you, and this is still true. I want to be with you and be the Jungkook who loves you. Because when you’re in my life, I’m happy and strong enough to live as I dreamt. You're part of all this, of me,” he whispered, kissing your fingers again. “I want you to know that.”

“Kook,” you called, with tears in your eyes. His teary gaze met yours, and you jerked forward to hug him with all your heart. “I love you, too, and I want you too, so much! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I… I should have talked to you immediately. I let it all get to my head. It won't happen again, I promise.”

He nodded, petting your hair as he held you to his chest. “It's part of trying again, right? As long as we figure it out together, I'm happy. But you know what could help?”

You withdrew to look at him with a furrowed brow. “What?” 

He grinned. “A certain ring.”

He pressed his lips to your fingers again, unable to hide a playful smile, while you chuckled.

“One thing at a time.”

He chuckled. “Maybe next year.”