#but then the reasonable part of me is like

[millenianthemums]

diet culture people make me feel like i’m going crazy. you want me to take an experimental pill that destroys my appetite?? you want me to remove part of my stomach??? you want me to stop eating bread and rice, two of the staple foods most inherent to humanity????? why exactly? because my stomach is big? because you don’t like the way i look, and you think it’s reasonable to tell me to carve pieces off of myself and try random drugs and ruin my own life so i can look more visually pleasing to you? and you somehow don’t see how absurdly cruel and selfish that is to ask of somebody???? while pretending you care about their HEALTH????????????????? FUCK YOU!!!!

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore replacing eodio with a creepy doll and casually forgetting it isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[yameoto]

any more thoughts on puppy art.. please. only if u want to though haha !! (please?)

ohh u guys love your darling little lapdog huh?

LAPDOG ART DONALDSON! fem!reader

▸ a drooler. nosing his head between your legs n he's already salivating. he's so cute like that. face smushed between your thighs, panting as spit pools in his mouth, nose twitching like a cute little bunny at the scent of your arousal. taking the trim of your panties between his teeth, dragging it down inch by inch. quivering because he just wants to rip them off but the last time he did that he tore your nice lacy lingerie and u didnt touch him for a week. when he eats you out he laps at your cunt like an eager puppy. comes away absolutely glistening. dripping, even. your juices n his saliva smearing his cheeks, his nose, dribbling down his chin.

▸ bigggg on humping. obviously. when you're too busy to give him attention he'll just shuffle over onto your lap and just start rubbing up against you. he's ridden out the best orgasms that way; creaming in his already-sodden boxers as slick gets all over ur thigh. he likes to do it when you're working or when you're on a call (you always punish him best that way). oftentimes you'll wake up at night to slick sheets—finding him grindin up against you, moaning and whimpering. a sleepy, boneless mess on your knee. he'll already have gotten himself off thrice before he tries to wakes you, just to be safe (you might take it away from him, after all). ▸ teething.... grown ass man teething... gnawing on your shoulder to stop himself from crying out when you let him fuck you.. nibbling your bottom lip red n raw when you kiss.. slobbering all over your mouth. during sex if you tease him he'll start to chew anxiously at the end of ur bra strap, the hem of your shorts, your panties if you keep him waiting too long. sometimes randomly takes your hand by the wrist and takes a fake chomp out of it (affectionate).

▸ not beyond jus being your lil stress relief toy. coming back home and he's been so good for you. he won his match. he's cooked dinner. but you don't have time for any of that. "oh, baby, don't give me that look. cock out, now." and he makes a little mewling noise and immediately his shorts are a crumpled puddle on the floor—raging boner popping out, all swollen n red n leaking bc hes been waiting for you for hours. ▸ sighing, telling him to sit and so he does. legs spreading wide on the couch, blinking up at u in earnest neediness. and when you sink onto his cock he makes this insane, visceral whining noise—back arcing off the seat. ▸ cockwarmer? more like cuntwarmer. you tell him don't move and don't cum. an impossible ask. he's pawing at your back, whimpering when your only response is to lean back heavier, sinking your full weight down on his poor, poor cock. n it feels soso good but he only lasts two minutes on a good day! let alone when you're switching the tv on and settling back into him like he's part of the couch. occasionally your hips jump, walls pulsing tight, choking his sensitive dick. you're grinding down into his lap and he's twitching inside of u and hot tears are prickling his eyes—fingers digging into your thighs, trembling.

▸ time ticking on.. the coil of heat in his gut winding tighter n tighter.. art's cheeks are flushed and hes wetting the back of your shirt with his silent tears. he persists, though, because he's good. he's gonna be a good boy for you. and it works! for a time, when you seem like you've almost forgotten your pussy is strangling his cock and you're only rolling your hips occasionally, sending warm thrums of pleasure through him. lulling him into a false sense of security.

▸ until all of a sudden you decide to be mean and for whatever reason you lift your hips before slamming them back down again, and his sharp gasp and slurred mewls perfectly cue the geyser that erupts from his slit.

▸ not even letting him cum inside you.. sliding off his spurting cock thats blowing cum like a volcano. hot, sticky strings arcing in the air and splattering all over the carpet, the couch cushions. his eyes glazing over, all glassy n sparkly as he crumples back in the couch, blubbering tearful apologies as his cock leaks like a faucet, staining the poor, new pillows.

▸ adores aftercare. or just your comfort in general. please rest your hand against his cheek and let him sigh and melt and nuzzle into the palm of your hand like you're taking the weight of the world off his shoulders. tug gently on his hair. scratch his scalp. let him curl up on your lap and pat him and coo sweet nothings in his ear. simple things, like "sweet baby, did so good today." or "tired puppy. took mommy so well."

▸ "fuck— m'sorry. m'sorry, m'sorry—" "hey, shh, darling. aw, don't cry. mommy's got you. how bout you curl up on momma's lap, kay?" "..mkay."

[999h34rt]

CRUSH CRAZY | PAIGE BUECKERS

➣ paige x fem!physio

➣ summary: the new physio of the Uconn Wbb has caught the eye of their golden player, but it seems Paige has become a little... crush crazy.

➣ warnings: hoping none

➣ i hateee thisss but its been sitting in my drafts so i finally finished it 😭

"AND BEFORE YOU TAKE THE PILLS MAKE SURE YOU ATE SOME FOOD" I said to Azzi. It's been about 2 weeks since I started working with her, the Uconn medical staff have been nothing but welcoming.

At first, I didn't know what I was getting myself into, where I come from basketball isn't a big enough thing the way football is ( soccer ). I also didn't spend that much tie on social media, but as soon as I opened tiktok, tons of edits filled my page, most about Uconn and other teams. There were especially edits of Uconn's number five.

Paige Bueckers.

The girl was attractive. And she had the confidence to prove it. Me and Paige had very little contact together , but even if it was for a second, for some odd reason, my stomach was filled with butterflies.

"Thank you again" Azzi's sweet voice said. I turned around to look at the girl, after she underwent surgery for tearing her ACL during practice last November, there was still a little pain in the leg, but nothing that should stop her from rejoining the team in January. Of course, left out from not being in the action.

"No problem and please be careful ,i dont wanna se you anymore, you're boring' I jokingly said to her, she let out a laugh. I heard a chuckle behind me, when I turned, there in all er glory, number five.

"Hi Paige" I muttered, suddenly becoming shy.

"Hey" She said grinning. "Soooooo..."

"Paige" I said sternly, hiding my smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I was just checking up on Azzi" She told me, cracking a small smile at Azzi. I hoped the disappointed wasn't showing in my face, the delusional part in me was hoping she just came to see me.

"Well she's all yours"

✰

"Coach" Nika yelled, suddenly at Geno. "I don't feel so good"

"What happened?" Geno questioned her, making her sit down. She was fine 10 minutes ago.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up" She said, staring at the ground. Coach felt Paige come beside him. "You okay?" Paige asked, Nika shook her head.

"Maybe we should call Y/N" Paige said, Nika nodded. Geno looked at the both of them, did they hit their head?

"Y/N's a physio, she doesn't deal with stomach problems" He explained, then he heard a cackle come from behind them. KK.

Now he got it, just before Nika came up to him, she was talking with Paige and KK, the three of them whispering amongst one another. Knowing Paige and her little crush, he could figure out that she put Nika up to this.

"Try telling me that again after suicides, maybe i'll believe it then" He said,trying to hide his smile, both Nika and Paige groaned. KK struggled to hide her laugh, scratch that, she didn't even hide it.

"Girl Boo, maybe next time" She said to Paige, laughing.

✰

Practice was over, and everybody was tired. Most of them half a sleep, including Paige. While they were used to their morning practices, Paige had a late night.

"Nah I'm going pick up something from Y/N real quick" She hard Aubrey say. Hearing Y/N name, Paige was awake real quick.

" I'll come with you" She offered, the locker suddenly filled with laughs. Her teammate agreed but not before teasing her with the rest. After getting ready, both of the Uconn basketball players made their way to the medical wing, Paige was nervous, she was always nervous to see Y/N. Suddenly feeling insecure, Paige smelled herself, stressing because she's sweaty. She heard her teammate laugh. "Bro relax" Aubrey reassured her.

When they finally stood in front of Y/N's office door, when Aubrey saw that Paige was still in a bit of a daze, she took the honor of knocking on the office door. When they both heard a sweet voice yelling come in, they followed her orders.

"Oh Hi" I said surprised to see both of them here. Aubrey replied greeting me back, but Paige, just stood there staring at her, grinning like a maniac. "Hi P" I said to her.

"Hey" she replied. Before i could ask what she was doing here, Aubrey caught my attention, asking about her meds and if she could take lighter ones. I replied to all her questions, asking if she was feeling okay or if she needed a checkup. While i talked to Aubrey, i could feel Paige's eyes on me at the side of my head.

As Aubrey left, i expected for Paige to follow her, but the blonde didn't move. "P, do you need something?" i asked her.

"there's this party tonight , you should stop by"

Was Paige inviting you as a date? no.

"Okay, text me the details and i'll think about it" i kinda accepted her invite. Tonight i already made plans with my roommate, i don't think its a good idea to cancel those just because i want to see my crush. I also didn't want my hopes to be up.

While Y/N thought about that, Paige was beaming with excitement on the inside, if Y/N did show up tonight. this was going to be the night where she made her move.

✰

She didn't show, she. didn't. show.

In Y/N's head, she didn't think not being at that party was a big deal. se assumed Paige was just being nice inviting her and she definitely didn't know that P was disappointed.

Today they had normal hard practices, and today was actually the final time Paige tried to get Y/N's attention. no like actually the last time.

As she dribbled the ball, suddenly she dropped the ball, and dramatically fell to the ground. Ice let out a laugh, but while she knew what Paige's plan was, Geno and Y/N didn't.

I gasped, seeing Paige suddenly on the ground, she was fine literally 10seconds ago. Quickly running over, followed by the rest of the coaching staff.

“Can u get up by yourself?”

“I can try”

okay good sign, good sign. it’s not broken.

“To my office” I instructed both Nika and Paige. While holding on to Paige, giving her a bit of support.

When we arrived, I made Paige lay down. And started testing her knee. It seemed fine, actually perfect.

“Maybe we should get another opinion, I don’t think my brains working properly”

I can’t seem to find out whats wrong, she says her knee hurts, but the tests i did make her look perfect.

“Ummm Alright” i heard her hesitate. Her voice slightly nervous.

“Paige”

“Yeah”

“Are you… not injured?”

“Kinda” She answered.

I furrowed my eyebrows, making me think back. Maybe she didn’t want the pressure or she just wanted an excuse out of practice.

“Paige if you are using this to get out of practice well you’ve got another thing comi-”

“Im using this as an excuse to see you” She cut you off.

“What”

“I’ve literally been giving you hints all year and you’re telling me you didnt know i liked you?”

“Well no” I answered honestly. When i finally met her eyes, a small smile took over my face. Her sad face turned hopeful. She pulled her head up and it was a centimeter away from my lips, knowing shes hesitant i leaned down and connected our lips.

“I like you too P” i said “You couldve just asked me out and this wouldn’t have had to happen”

“Don’t even try to turn this on me ma” she started ranting, you just laughed and stood there watching. Okay so you weren’t delusional.

✰

[httpswritings]

if you were my little girl: the series part 3

alexia putellas x child!reader; this story contains mentions of traumatic experiences as drug addiction, child abuse and similar topics. don't read it if you find those topics triggering.

The Starting Point

Alexia became a familiar face at your house. Everything seemed picture perfect – you, her, and sometimes even her sister Alba, playing dolls and coloring in your room. Alba, with her natural gift for connecting with children, clicked with you instantly. Her calm demeanor and genuine care were a soothing balm for the anxieties you craved relief from.

One day, with your parents momentarily out and you engrossed in a game with Alba, Alexia found herself drawn to a stack of photo albums on the coffee table. Flipping through them, a pang of bittersweet feeling

washed over her. There you were, a tiny bundle of joy with a gap-toothed grin in your baby photos. In others, you were surrounded by family, seemingly bursting with infectious laughter. It was a stark contrast to the subdued mood you'd settled into lately.

Alba returned with you, both of you chattering excitedly about the upcoming trip to the park. You gravitated towards Alba, seeking her comforting presence. Alexia, although happy for the connection, felt a gnawing unease. She needed to understand the reason behind your sudden withdrawal, the reason that left a shadow on your once-radiant smile.

Alexia entered your room.

She knew this was wrong but she needed to find something that would hint the reason behind your behavior.

Having discussed your situation with Alba, Alexia knew the answer might lie hidden in your artwork. Children, Alba had explained, often expressed their truest selves through their drawings, a language unburdened by the need to filter emotions.

Alexia examined the ones you had on your wall.

Alexia studied the drawings displayed on the wall. Friends, football – a testament to your passions – and a surprising number featuring Alexia herself. In these drawings, you had bestowed upon her crowns, angel wings, and an ever-present smile. In stark contrast, there were only one of your family. The difference was a glaring red flag.

Time was running out before you and Alba returned. With a surge of urgency, Alexia knelt by your desk, rifling through your belongings. Her heart quickened when she found a drawing tucked away, partially obscured by notebooks. It depicted your family at a birthday celebration. Everyone seemed joyful, except for you and your grandmother.

Before you could return, Alexia snapped a picture of the drawing, the click a jarring note in the otherwise playful atmosphere. "Ale, Alba told me she got permission to go to the park! Can we?" you asked, your voice filled with innocent hope.

"No, amor," Alexia replied, forcing a smile. "Your parents said we have to stay here. They'll be back soon." Her heart ached for the disappointment clouding your eyes. Yet, the drawing offered a glimmer of hope, a clue to the unspoken pain hidden beneath your brave facade. The path forward wouldn't be easy, but at least now, Alexia had a starting point.

You pouted, pulling yourself closer to Alba, and resigned yourself knowing fun was about to be over.

Alba The Artist

Alexia made Alba go to Alexia's house to discuss the drawing.

Your family: you parents and your uncles were drawn with big smiles and dancing.

On the other hand, your grandmother was sitting on a corner, with an angry face, and you were on the middle.

Your figure was bigger than everyone's else, and you had a sad face.

“This is very weird. What has her grandma had to do with her? Everyone's happy except them.”

Alba wasn't been as helpful as Alexia thought she would be.

Both of them accorded to keep looking for signs in your room.

Now, it'lbe Alba's turn.

Alexia had to go away for like a week.

You hated when Alexia had to travel, because that meant that you wouldn't see her in at least a few days.

Alba had managed to be alone in your room as you were in the bathroom.

Hidden away, she saw the drawing, but with two new additions. Beside you, smiling brightly, was Alexia, whispering, "I'm here." Next to her, an unfinished figure – maybe Alba herself – surrounded by hearts. Alba sent a photo to Alexia, and a tear slipped down her cheek. It was clear you loved Alexia dearly.

When you returned from the bathroom, Alba was almost out of breath after doing everything so quickly.

She had a idea, suggesting to make a shared drawing.

You agreed eagerly.

Alba was very kind and sweet, and she always smelled nicely.

You drew some stars but as you peeked over Alba's part, you noticed that she was drawing you, loving how smiley she had drawn you, finally someone who noticed your smile.

“My parents always say that I should smile more. You should show them your drawing!"

As expected, Alba was noting in her mind everything you were telling her.

You drew Alba with long hair, with shiny clothes and with a big heart on her dress.

“Why don't we draw Ale?”

When Alba mentioned Alexia, your most genuine smile bloomed. "I love her, and I love you."

"We love you too, mi amor." It was a world of just the three of you, a secret language of love.

You drew Alexia exactly the same way as Alba, and she laughed.

“We seem like twins.”

“You almost are! You have the same laughter. Sometimes I can't figure out who's the one laughing!”

“Why don't we draw your parents? So we can show them our drawing?”

“No.”

You didn't even look at Alba, as you were very focused on painting flowers around Alexia's figure, so you missed her puzzled face.

“Why not, little one?”

“This is our drawing. Only Alexia, me and you.”

Alba wanted to understand further, but this was yours, a private conversation on paper. Alba understood and respected your boundaries and you were thankful for it.

“Should we call Ale so we can show her our piece of art?”

As Alexia appeared on the phone screen, you showed off your masterpiece.

She showered you with praise, something your parents rarely did. You used to draw them too, but their lack of interest made you lose heart. Now, you had your own way of expressing yourself.

Matilda

Alexia was finally back.

She had brought you some gifts, like she always did when she travelled.

You were at home with her and your parents.

At first, they were happy about your relationship with Alexia, but envy was starting to make its way to them.

The abundance of Alexia-themed artwork in your room, the practiced calligraphy spelling out her name on every blank sheet, the constant stream of gifts – it all pricked at them. "She's not your mother," they'd mutter under their breath. The way you'd dash to the door whenever Alexia arrived fueled their silent resentment.

But Alexia offered things they no longer did – undivided attention, playful indulgence, a helping hand with schoolwork. It was a convenient arrangement, as long as she did it, your parents didn't have to.

Homework complete, Alexia suggested a movie night. You squealed for your favorite, "Matilda." Curled up on the couch, your head resting on Alexia's lap, her fingers gently stroking your hair, a sense of deep security washed over you.

The credits of "Matilda" rolled, the final triumphant scene a fitting end to your perfect evening. With a contented sigh, you snuggled deeper into Alexia's lap. You weren't quite asleep, but the warmth of her embrace, the safe haven she always created, pulled you into a state of serene comfort.

Alexia watched, a smile gracing her lips as your breathing softened. Witnessing your relaxed state, a pang of guilt stabbed at her heart. Wishing nothing more than to bottle this feeling of peace for you every day, she knew the reality was far more complex.

There were some lines she couldn't cross.

There were lines she couldn't cross. You were a child, and she, an adult entrusted with your well-being. Sharing a bed, no matter how innocent, could be misinterpreted. It could send the wrong message, plant a seed of doubt that could taint your perception of all adults.

A child is very vulnerable and genuine, so Alexia knew she had to protect you from any harmful adult. Protecting your innocence was paramount. She was the one adult you trusted, and that trust needed to be unwavering. Sharing confidential information, forming a bond built on honesty, that was how she'd safeguard you from potential predators.

That's why she started educating you on the dangers a kid could face.

She was a trustable adult, so you heard her very attentive, and agreed to tell her anything that could put you in danger.

Who To Trust

A shadow of concern crossed your face as thoughts of the upcoming family reunion swirled in your head. You knew the drill – alcohol, fights, a tense atmosphere that made your skin crawl. Should you tell Alexia? Would she intervene, potentially put herself at risk?

Your grandmother was there, but being raised as the way women should behave in the Spain's 40s, she never said a word.

You knew she wouldn't stand up for you, wouldn't break the silence.

The need to confide in Alexia burned bright, but the opportunity seemed out of reach.

As if they knew, you parents were always at home, so you didn't have the possibility of being alone with her.

You already knew how to write, but taking into consideration the complexity of the situation, you didn't know where to start.

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever started a project, thinking it was going to be a quick one-hour thing, only to have it expand into several weeks of complete misery? You haven't? Boys, get over here. We found us one of them replicants wearing a human face. Put them in the vat with the others.

Now that all the unpleasantness is over, we can dish about how awful our hobbies are. I've always been drawn to the small, intricate jobs in life. Fiddly stuff, things where you have to really be paying attention. Being awake enough to notice a strange sound, or a joint that doesn't quite go together right, is the only way to avoid an intractable crisis later. I think it's because I derive a lot of pleasure when it all falls into place and the damn thing works.

A couple years ago, I told a friend that I would really love to build a ship in a bottle. All that precision really appealed to me. Feeding parts one at a time through a tiny neck and assembling this beautiful work, made even more beautiful by forcing it to be pointlessly difficult.

He responded by telling me that nobody actually does it that way. What you do is you build the ship outside of the bottle, with the sail wrapped around it, and then you push it into the neck and use a piece of string to pop the sail back up once it's fully in there. I got really angry. So angry that I left the room, drove to the hospital, and "borrowed" one of their precision microsurgery robots for two rage-spittle-covered days straight to assemble a replica of the Emma Maersk inside a 500mL 7-Up bottle, but by the time I spitefully showed it to him he had completely forgotten about our conversation.

So, if you're like me and trying to stretch out a hobby to the point where it becomes no longer enjoyable, don't stop. Evaluate your motivations, though. Find a reason to do it out of spite. That'll keep you warm on the coldest nights of wondering what exact part in this billions-of-parts arrangement has decided to conk out long before you were even involved. And if you know a wealthy shipping magnate who wants to commission a bunch of weird-looking little boats inside pop bottles, you know where I am. Unless you're a replicant. That'll cost extra.

[ms-demeanor]

Hello! First, I wanted to say thank you for your post about updating software and such. I really appreciated your perspective as someone with ADHD. The way you described your experiences with software frustration was IDENTICAL to my experience, so your post made a lot of sense to me.

Second, (and I hope my question isn't bothering you lol) would you mind explaining why it's important to update/adopt the new software? Like, why isn't there an option that doesn't involve constantly adopting new things? I understand why they'd need to fix stuff like functional bugs/make it compatible with new tech, but is it really necessary to change the user side of things as well?

Sorry if those are stupid questions or they're A Lot for a tumblr rando to ask, I'd just really like to understand because I think it would make it easier to get myself to adopt new stuff if I understand why it's necessary, and the other folks I know that know about computers don't really seem to understand the experience.

Thank you so much again for sharing your wisdom!!

A huge part of it is changing technologies and changing norms; I brought up Windows 8 in that other post and Win8 is a *great* example of user experience changing to match hardware, just in a situation that was an enormous mismatch with the market.

Win8's much-beloathed tiles came about because Microsoft seemed to be anticipating a massive pivot to tablet PCs in nearly all applications. The welcome screen was designed to be friendly to people who were using handheld touchscreens who could tap through various options, and it was meant to require more scrolling and less use of a keyboard.

But most people who the operating system went out to *didn't* have touchscreen tablets or laptops, they had a desktop computer with a mouse and a keyboard.

When that was released, it was Microsoft attempting to keep up with (or anticipate) market trends - they wanted something that was like "the iPad for Microsoft" so Windows 8 was meant to go with Microsoft Surface tablets.

We spent the first month of Win8's launch making it look like Windows 7 for our customers.

You can see the same thing with the centered taskbar on Windows 11; that's very clearly supposed to mimic the dock on apple computers (only you can't pin it anywhere but the bottom of the screen, which sucks).

Some of the visual changes are just trends and various companies trying to keep up with one another.

With software like Adobe I think it's probably based on customer data. The tool layout and the menu dropdowns are likely based on what people are actually looking for, and change based on what other tools people are using. That's likely true for most programs you use - the menu bar at the top of the screen in Word is populated with the options that people use the most; if a function you used to click on all the time is now buried, there's a possibility that people use it less these days for any number of reasons. (I'm currently being driven mildly insane by Teams moving the "attach file" button under a "more" menu instead of as an icon next to the "send message" button, and what this tells me is either that more users are putting emojis in their messages than attachments, or microsoft WANTS people to put more emojis than messages in their attachments).

But focusing on the operating system, since that's the big one:

The thing about OSs is that you interact with them so frequently that any little change seems massive and you get REALLY frustrated when you have to deal with that, but version-to-version most OSs don't change all that much visually and they also don't get released all that frequently. I've been working with windows machines for twelve years and in that time the only OSs that Microsoft has released were 8, 10, and 11. That's only about one OS every four years, which just is not that many. There was a big visual change in the interface between 7 and 8 (and 8 and 8.1, which is more of a 'panicked backing away' than a full release), but otherwise, realistically, Windows 11 still looks a lot like XP.

The second one is a screenshot of my actual computer. The only change I've made to the display is to pin the taskbar to the left side instead of keeping it centered and to fuck around a bit with the colors in the display customization. I haven't added any plugins or tools to get it to look different.

This is actually a pretty good demonstration of things changing based on user behavior too - XP didn't come with a search field in the task bar or the start menu, but later versions of Windows OSs did, because users had gotten used to searching things more in their phones and browsers, so then they learned to search things on their computers.

There are definitely nefarious reasons that software manufacturers change their interfaces. Microsoft has included ads in home versions of their OS and pushed searches through the Microsoft store since Windows 10, as one example. That's shitty and I think it's worthwhile to find the time to shut that down (and to kill various assistants and background tools and stop a lot of stuff that runs at startup).

But if you didn't have any changes, you wouldn't have any changes. I think it's handy to have a search field in the taskbar. I find "settings" (which is newer than control panel) easier to navigate than "control panel." Some of the stuff that got added over time is *good* from a user perspective - you can see that there's a little stopwatch pinned at the bottom of my screen; that's a tool I use daily that wasn't included in previous versions of the OS. I'm glad it got added, even if I'm kind of bummed that my Windows OS doesn't come with Spider Solitaire anymore.

One thing that's helpful to think about when considering software is that nobody *wants* to make clunky, unusable software. People want their software to run well, with few problems, and they want users to like it so that they don't call corporate and kick up a fuss.

When you see these kinds of changes to the user experience, it often reflects something that *you* may not want, but that is desirable to a *LOT* of other people. The primary example I can think of here is trackpad scrolling direction; at some point it became common for trackpads to scroll in the opposite direction that they used to; now the default direction is the one that feels wrong to me, because I grew up scrolling with a mouse, not a screen. People who grew up scrolling on a screen seem to feel that the new direction is a lot more intuitive, so it's the default. Thankfully, that's a setting that's easy to change, so it's a change that I make every time I come across it, but the change was made for a sensible reason, even if that reason was opaque to me at the time I stumbled across it and continues to irritate me to this day.

I don't know. I don't want to defend Windows all that much here because I fucking hate Microsoft and definitely prefer using Linux when I'm not at work or using programs that I don't have on Linux. But the thing is that you'll see changes with Linux releases as well.

I wouldn't mind finding a tool that made my desktop look 100% like Windows 95, that would be fun. But we'd probably all be really frustrated if there hadn't been any interface improvements changes since MS-DOS (and people have DEFINITELY been complaining about UX changes at least since then).

Like, I talk about this in terms of backward compatibility sometimes. A lot of people are frustrated that their old computers can't run new software well, and that new computers use so many resources. But the flipside of that is that pretty much nobody wants mobile internet to work the way that it did in 2004 or computers to act the way they did in 1984.

Like. People don't think about it much these days but the "windows" of the Windows Operating system represented a massive change to how people interacted with their computers that plenty of people hated and found unintuitive.

(also take some time to think about the little changes that have happened that you've appreciated or maybe didn't even notice. I used to hate the squiggly line under misspelled words but now I see the utility. Predictive text seems like new technology to me but it's really handy for a lot of people. Right clicking is a UX innovation. Sometimes you have to take the centered task bar in exchange for the built-in timer deck; sometimes you have to lose color-coded files in exchange for a right click.)

[thesummerestsolstice]

I absolutely love the idea that Elrond took one look at Annatar and immediately disliked him. He just instantly failed the vibe check. And the best part is about that is that there are so, so many reasons Elrond might've immediately mistrusted Annatar, ranging from drama to comedy. I've compiled a few of my favorites below:

Vague, Luthien-related "not this motherfucker again" senses (always a classic)

Something about Annatar reminded Elrond of Maedhros's description of Sauron, even if he couldn't quite connect the dots at the time (good if you want to be emotional about Kidnap dads)

Annatar's general attitude really didn't fit with his story that he was an emissary of the Valar (if you want to be pro-Valar)

Alternately, Elrond fully believed that Annatar was from the west, but had serious problems with the Valar and didn't trust anyone they'd sent (if you want to be anti-Valar)

Vague foresight visions (for a metaphysical reason)

Elrond thinks that Annatar's appearance in Lindon is just a little too politically convenient (for a very practical reason)

Galadriel had warned Elrond that something like this might happen (I would also listen to Galadriel)

Annatar was being really, really unsubtle about being evil and Elrond was just the first person to point out that maybe the guy asking around about the best way to poison an elf without being caught shouldn't be allowed to stay in the city (Annatar got better at the whole 'evil in disguise' thing in Eregion)

Elrond has already heard enough traveling salesmen in his life and doesn't have patience for another one (Lindon really needs a 'no soliciting' sign)

Annatar made a vaguely offensive comment about Elrond being a half-elf and Elrond ran out of tolerance for that roughly an Age ago (good for him!)

Annatar said that Lindon needed a Maia, and excuse me, Lindon is already under Elrond's protection, it does not need another Maia wandering around causing problems! (Maiar territoriality my beloved)

Annatar said that Gil-Galad needed a Maiarin advisor, and, excuse me, Gil-Galad is Elrond's king, he does not need another Maia to whisper jokes to him during meetings, or to tenderly braid his hair, or to be his messenger bird. Elrond does all that perfectly fine, thank you! (Maiar territoriality, good for them edition)

Annatar and Elrond would've gotten along fine if Gil-Galad had bothered to introduce them properly, but seriously, you can't just toss them in a room together! Everyone knows that Maiar need time to acclimate to each other's presences first! You have to use a wall to separate them for a couple days! (did Gil-Galad even do his research before allowing a Maia-adjacent being to be his herald?)

Elrond absolutely refused to explain his reasons but everyone still listened because at that point they knew nothing good came from ignoring his warnings (smart choice)

[extensionallydefined]

Okay, so, I need to talk about the relationship between Persona 5's ending and Persona 5 royal's ending, because I think it isn't discussed enough how one puts into question the themes of the other and in doing so it elevates everything that came before.

Spoilers are coming, you've been warned.

The main thing that's given me an outlet to think about this is a few quotes from the Phantom Thieves when they're in the Velvet Room after being Thanos-snapped by Yaldabaoth. Specifically these quotes:

Ann: "I... I never want anyone to have to go through what I did!"

Yusuke: "Just as art is meant to break boundaries, people should be saved even if they frown upon it. I won't allow the justice I believe in to be shaken any further!"

Ryuji: "We're doin' this to make sure people don't go through the same crap we did. It doesn't matter if they think we're just or not. We gotta do what we believe in!"

Futaba: "I can't let people suffer like this, even if I don't know them personally"

They mention some core ideas: 1. They want to prevent people's suffering because of the suffering they've felt. 2. They must do this regardless of if people want it, because they think it's the right thing to do. 3. Their justice is worth fighting for by virtue of being what they believe in.

Does this seem familiar? Maybe makes you think of a certain therapist who shows up in Royal?

I think Takuto Maruki serves a decent amount of purposes narratively and thematically, but one of the most genius things about him is that he serves as a foil to both the Phantom Thieves and Akechi, and in being that foil, he is, deep down, following the principles that the Phantom Thieves fought for - In the end, it was largely Joker who inspired him to fight for his reality.

Maruki fights for a reality where suffering straight up doesn't exist, because he doesn't want anyone to feel the suffering he's had to endure. Maruki wants the Phantom Thieves and Akechi to never feel suffering anymore, regardless of their stance on the matter. He is "saving" them regardless of their wishes, and will fight them to keep the reality he wants. He thinks the world is unfair, so his "justice" is to make a perfect world for everyone - and that's what makes it worth fighting for, because that's what he believes.

Maruki's rationale to fight against the Phantom Thieves and Akechi is (partly) the same reasoning that the Phantom Thieves use to regain their motivation to fight the Holy Grail/Yaldabaoth.

So, narratively, Maruki serves as a mirror that's telling things not to be told for the Phantom Thieves to look into and to see the ugly parts of their own way of acting. Can they really fight Maruki, knowing that he is just acting how they did?

I see people sometimes refusing Maruki's reality because it "wouldn't actually work" or "it's imperfect". But as far as I'm aware, it's imperfect because it hasn't been completed yet - I think the game is a lot more interesting under the pretense that Maruki truly has the power to erase all suffering, once his reality is complete, past the deadline. I also see the argument, and even the game uses it, that Maruki's world "isn't reality". But did we listen well to Morgana's speech before he disappeared in the Yaldabaoth arc? The world itself is made up of cognition, reality is born from the points of view of everyone. Maruki *can* change reality, and the real question of the game is not about the logistics or "ontological dignity" of his reality, but rather - Do you want a world where all your wishes are granted and no suffering exists?

In the end, the game shows the Phantom Thieves that "sticking to their justice" will make them fight against people with similar ideals as theirs. It's funny, in a way, how Akechi was the one fully willing to fight Maruki from the start. His rebellion has always been more individualistic in nature than the Phantom Thieves' - he wanted revenge for himself, then redemption for himself and now he wants a reality where he isn't under anyone's control anymore. To him, Shido's country, Yaldabaoth's ruin and Maruki's world are all the same - Maruki just has a nicer, more therapy-speaky way of presenting his proposal, and sees people as his equals rather than as insolent masses, but his goal is the same. They're all worlds that shackle you for the "greater good". And in the end, Maruki, and Royal, force the P5 gang to become more like Akechi - to value their individuality in the face of the public's "justice".

To fight for what you believe in you will face people with the same determination as you. They will be your equals in many, many ways. In the end, you can only stick to your guns and hope that what you believe in is worth more than what they believe in.

I have a lot more to write about these topics but I'll leave it there. Maybe about the relationship between Maruki's reality and individuality next? That could be fun ^^

Btw - Special thanks to @thedaythatwas for inspiring me to write up stuff about Persona 5 Royal!

[drabbles-mc]

We Were Just Leaving

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut (protected p in v), language, alcohol, strangers to lovers

For Week 2 of Hot Bucky Summer: "What should I call you?"

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: my first time ever writing smut for bucky. it truly is a Hot Bucky Summer! 😂 biggest thanks to @buckybarnesevents for putting on this event! endless appreciation for all of your hard work 💞 maybe i'll write more for these two in this event if another prompt strikes inspo for them 👀

Going out on your own to get a drink and decompress after a long week had sounded like a great idea until about three minutes ago. Ever since then you’d been silently kicking and cursing yourself for not taking up your coworkers on their Happy Hour offer. The last thing you’d wanted to do after the way your week had gone was socialize, even with coworkers that you generally liked and got along with.

But now that seemed like the greatest thing in the world compared to the situation you were about to find yourself in. Theo from the finance department and his same half a dozen jokes seemed like a dream to be across a table from compared to your ex who had just walked through the door of the bar you were at.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

You had less than a couple minutes to try and scamper out before he saw you. And the only reason you had that kind of time at all was because the bar was busy and it would take longer to spot you in the midst of everyone. But the second that your ex got up to the bar with his buddies to order drinks, your cover would be blown.

You dug some cash out of your purse, tossing enough onto the top of the bar to cover the one drink you’d ordered so far and the tip for the bartender. You were zipping your bag back up as you were hopping off the stool that you’d been sitting on. Your eyes were fixed on your purse, frustrated that this was the one time that the zipper decided to jam. The whole time you were straining your ear to make sure that you could hear how close your ex was, trying to hear his voice or his laughter.

“Fuck,” you were trying to weave your way through the crowd but the clusters and groups of friends all lingering and waiting for their chance to slink up to the bar and order were all packed tightly. You didn’t remember when this spot became a popular place to be. You huffed, trying to say, “Excuse me,” loud enough for people to hear you but not so loud that it came across as rude or drew any real attention to you.

A pocket of space opened up and you were more relieved than you should’ve been. Clutching your bag tight to you, you took long, measured strides to try and slip through the small groups of people that had parted ways just enough for you to sneak through. You were almost to the other side of them, almost out of what would be an easy range for your ex to see you, when someone took a step backwards as they laughed and inadvertently bumped right into you.

The fact that it was an accident did nothing to soothe your nerves. Them stepping back sent you stumbling mid-stride and bumping right into someone sitting at one of the few small high-top tables that the bar had scattered around. You felt a hand on your back and the heat flaring up in your face and you were already sputtering out five different apologies at once before you’d even fully turned around to face the person you’d bumped into.

When you looked at his face, all the words stopped cascading past your lips. Still white-knuckling your purse, still feeling like your face and throat were on fire from embarrassment, you found yourself incapable of looking anywhere but at the icy blue eyes staring back at you.

He didn’t look happy about you bumping into him, per se, but he didn’t look as angry or annoyed as other people in the bar might’ve been. No drinks were spilled in the process, which was a bonus. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he looked at you, but his expression was otherwise neutral.

“S-sorry,” you finally forced out, clear but still uncertain.

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” You nodded, knowing that you should be forcing your feet to carry you away, but you were locked in place.

His eyebrows went from raised to pinched together. Apparently, he took your hesitancy to leave as you not believing his simple reassurance. “Really,” he emphasized with a small nod, “it’s fine. You can go—seemed like you were in a rush anyway.”

Your eyes widened slightly at that, the full scope of the situation coming back to you. You cleared your throat. “Right. Thanks. Thank you. Sorry. I’m just gonna—” you were halfway to motioning over your shoulder when a vaguely familiar voice blared like an airhorn in your ear.

“Well look who it is!”

Turning to look over your shoulder, your stomach dropped. It wasn’t your ex, but you knew that he was going to run right back to your ex and tell him that you were here. Even if you tried to bolt it wasn’t going to do you any good. You were in it now.

“Hey,” you said, keeping it short, trying to make your tone as unenthusiastic as possible.

“Oh, Ricky’s gonna be stoked that you’re—”

“I was just—”

He waved you off. “Wait right here—I’ll go grab him.”

“Don’t—” It didn’t matter what you were going to say next because he was already taking back off towards the bar. You let out a deep sigh. “Fuck.”

You’d nearly forgotten the man stuck in the middle of all this until he spoke up again. “So, who’s Ricky?” There was a hint of amusement to his voice despite the fact that his expression hadn’t changed much at all.

You shook your head. “Whatever you’re already thinking, just go with that,” you said with a shake of your head.

“Rough.”

You had to laugh at the simple response. “Yeah. That’s why I was, you know,” you gestured vaguely towards the door that you had previously been trying to get to as quickly as possible.

You shook your head again, unable to do anything else. Each second that passed you could feel the anxious jitters building. You had no interest in talking to him ever again, and you knew that if he started talking to you, it was going to be nearly impossible to get out of it. That’s just how he was. You were so deep in thought and oncoming panic that you hadn’t noticed the way you were gnawing the inside of your lip until you felt a slight sting from it.

Turning to look at the man who hadn’t asked for any of this, you said, “You don’t owe me a favor, but do you think you could still do one for me?”

He shook his head, “I’m not gonna beat up—”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. “No, no. I mean, I bet you could. But just, can you pretend that we were here together and that we were leaving? I just, I need an exit strategy.”

“What, you want me to pretend to be your new boyfriend so your old one will leave you alone?”

“You don’t have to be my boyfriend. Just, be some friend that wanted to grab a drink with me. And get me the fuck out of here. Please.”

The pause that ensued didn’t give you anything resembling hope. But he must’ve taken just enough pity on you because his shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Alright, fine.”

Relief coursed through you even though you were nowhere near through this exchange yet. “Thank you.”

“What should I call you?” he asked.

You gave him a confused look. “My…my name, I guess?”

Your face and the tone of your response had him feeling whatever embarrassment you’d been battling with earlier when you bumped into him. He saw it all over your face then, and he was certain that you could see it all over his face now. The whole situation was much simpler about sixty seconds ago when you were the more flustered one in the scenario. Now he was the one in uncertain territory. He didn’t know why he asked it like that, but it was what had come out of his mouth when he tried to ask you for your name. It crossed his mind for a moment that maybe you’d bumped into the wrong person to get you out of this mess but it was too late now.

“Yeah. Um, enlighten me?” The laugh that you let out at that wasn’t a cruel one, which was the only reason he didn’t double-down on his embarrassment. You were amused, perhaps even a little relieved. After all, you could’ve just told him your name in response to his first question. As it stood, you told him now and he nodded. “Right.”

You figured you should know his too. “What’s—”

You didn’t get to finish the question let alone get the answer before your ex and his friend reappeared in front of you. They each had a drink in their hand and smug smiles on their faces. The reality of what had you asking ridiculous favors of a stranger you’d only known for about five minutes suddenly crashed down over you again. The knot in your stomach was back with a vengeance as you looked at the man in front of you, knowing that he was feeling none of the dread that you currently were.

“I didn’t believe it when he told me,” Ricky spoke up, nodding in the direction of his friend. “Thought you were still avoiding me.”

You forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat. “I tried to tell him that we were just taking off,” you replied, hating how defeated you sounded.

The smug look on your ex’s face disappeared instantly when he heard the word we. It was only then that he realized you were standing right next to a man. A man whose name you still didn’t know but he didn’t know that part.

“We?” Ricky repeated. “Well, care to introduce us?”

You tried not to let your panic show on your face. At this point you were ready to just give this random stranger you’d met in a bar an equally random name and apologize for it later. You barely registered the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it away from the table and stood himself up from it.

Fighting the uncertainty out of your voice, you said, “This is—”

He cut you off by putting himself between you and Ricky, holding his hand out for the man to shake in the process. “James,” he said as he nonchalantly slipped his free hand into yours. It wasn’t a gesture you’d been expecting, but you weren’t going to go against it either. There was something reassuring about the callouses of his palm against your skin as he threaded your fingers together. When he broke off the handshake with your ex, he gave a small tilt of his head and said, “Ricky, right?”

You knew that you weren’t doing a good job at all at hiding the pleased and surprised look on your face. The feeling only intensified when you saw the way it through Ricky completely off-kilter, whatever hand he had been planning on playing now no longer available to him.

He cleared his throat, and you noticed the way he adjusted, tightened his grip on the glass he was holding. He tried to recover from the temporary upset. “So, you’ve heard about me, then?” he asked, the look on his face letting you know that he considered it to be a good thing.

You were rolling your eyes and about to come back with something when James beat you to the punch. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

You tried to suppress the smile that wanted to take over your face but you weren’t sure if you did. You found yourself giving James’s hand a light squeeze, instinctively placing your other hand in the center of his back.

Ricky was trying to sputter out a response and James didn’t let him get a single coherent word out. “Like she said,” he gave you a small, gentle nudge towards the door, “we were just leaving.”

“I—”

James was already turning around and taking off towards the door. He called back over his shoulder, more nonchalant than your ex could ever hope to be, “Nice meeting you, Ricky.”

You were glad that the music and general chatter of the bar was hiding the sound of your laughter as the two of you made your way towards the door. Navigating the crowds was so much easier when you were attached to a man built the way that he was—funny how that seemed to work. The two of you were able to quickly maneuver your way to and out the door.

There was no better sound in the world to you than your boots hitting the concrete sidewalk outside the bar. The relief of being out of there was more than you were able to say in the moment, so instead you just kept laughing as you instinctively headed in the direction on the sidewalk that would eventually lead back to your apartment.

In that moment, there was no better sound in the world to James than the sound of you laughing. You were thanking him as the two of you walked away, and he was content to follow you under the guise of being committed to the little ruse you’d put together, to getting you far enough away from the bar to be considered out of the danger zone. He wondered if you, in the midst of your relief, even noticed that you were still holding onto his hand. He certainly still noticed.

You stopped suddenly and turned to look at him, eyes wide. “Oh, shit,” you gasped.

He looked over his shoulder, expecting your reaction to be because your ex had followed the two of you, or something similar. “What?”

You gestured back towards the bar. “Your drink! We didn’t pay—”

His laughter stopped you short. Shaking his head he said, “I was paid up.”

Your shock and tension both disappeared. “Oh. Okay.” It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. You let go immediately, face warm as you let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The two of you stood on the sidewalk, a few inches separating you as you faced each other. “So,” you started, the awkwardness that had previously disappeared rearing its head again, “James your real name or just something you made up so my ex can’t stalk you on Facebook or something?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t have Facebook. But yeah, it’s my real name. You,” he cracked a tiny grin, “you can call me Bucky, though.”

You smiled. “Bucky? That, you know, that what I should call you?” you joked.

He laughed, head tilting back slightly as did. He felt the way his face heated up at that and he just hoped that it was dark enough outside to hide the fact that he was probably blushing. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reaching out, you gently placed your hand on the outside of his bicep for all of a moment, not that it stopped him from being able to feel the warmth of your palm through the blue fabric of his henley. “Well, thank you, Bucky. I appreciate it. Sorry if I totally ruined your night.”

“You didn’t,” he said with no hesitation. “Sorry that your ex ruined yours.”

You shrugged, feeling the way that your lips were slowly tugging up into a smile. “Could’ve been worse.”

“Do you have plans right now?” Bucky asked, unsure of where the question came from or how it got out past his lips.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I was just planning on going home. Why? Have better plans in mind?”

It took him no time at all to realize that he’d walked himself into this with no idea where he was going with it. He knew that he had a decent poker face but even so he had a feeling you could read him like a book in that moment. And he definitely wasn’t reading like a mystery novel.

“I didn’t know if…you know…” he trailed off for a moment, “Wanna get…coffee? Or something?”

You chuckled and gave a small shrug. “Sure. Coffee sounds good.” You started to walk. “Or something.”

He quickly strode to catch up with you. “Got a place in mind?”

You laughed as you looked over at him. “Well, it didn’t seem like you did.”

It could’ve been a much more embarrassing call out if there hadn’t been such a warm look in your eyes. The only thing that he could think to do in the moment was follow you, so that was exactly what he did.

You couldn’t remember the last time that an invitation for a simple cup of coffee had suddenly caused an entire night to slip by. You didn’t even end up drinking all your coffee, too wrapped up in the conversation that you were having with Bucky. Funny that at the start of your evening you’d figured that a night alone was what you’d been needing, and yet sitting across from Bucky at a little café table, going wherever the conversation strayed to, left you feeling better than any number of nights by yourself at a bar or at home.

Bucky was fairly certain that he could talk to you all the way until the sun came back up again. He was also fairly certain that that fact had nothing to do with the caffeine from the coffee he’d had. His cup was empty, but he still found himself toying with it in his hands as the two of you talked. He didn’t know when the last time he got coffee with someone was. At least, someone who wasn’t Steve or Sam or Nat. This felt so foreign and new, yet there was something so familiar about you.

The pair of young twenty-somethings who were working at the coffee shop didn’t exactly tell you both to leave, didn’t exactly kick you out. But you both noticed the way that they were starting to wipe down the counter and tables and you knew better than to be the people who stayed right up until the last minute. Even though this time, you really wanted to. Getting a few more minutes with Bucky almost seemed worth it.

When the two of you were back out on the sidewalk once more, you turned to face him. The jitters you’d had when you left the bar hours before were gone, but there was a new feeling in its place. Similar but different. More excitement, more curiosity, more hope. You didn’t know what to do about it, though, didn’t know what to say to articulate those feelings.

“Well,” you finally said with a soft laugh, “now I really took up your whole night.”

The smile that Bucky gave you was charming enough to nearly have your knees knocking together. “Not the whole night.”

You hummed in amusement. “Then I’ll let you go before it turns into that.”

He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You’re alright getting home?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m only a couple blocks away.”

“I can walk you,” he offered.

You should’ve hesitated at least a little bit, but you didn’t. “That’d be nice.”

The two of you fell into stride beside each other. The first little stint was silent, but not uncomfortably so. You couldn’t speak for Bucky, but you knew that you were trying to figure out what was going to happen when you made it to the main door of your apartment building. You also knew, though, that no amount of overthinking it now was going to make it any easier to navigate then. So, you did what the two of you had been doing successfully for the last few hours, and picked a new topic out of thin air to talk about.

By the time you reached your building, you were walking so close to Bucky that your arm was practically pressed against his. He didn’t seem to mind—it wasn’t as though he was trying to pull away. Every now and then when you laughed, you’d give him a playful little bump, shoulder to shoulder, and Bucky had to fight the urge to drape his arm around you and pull you closer.

Stopping in front of one of the many tall brick buildings on the block, you nodded towards the door before opening your purse to find your keys. “This is me.”

Even though you’d hold him that you were only a couple of blocks away from the café, he still found himself surprised at how quickly you’d arrived. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that the evening was over so soon. Never mind the fact that the evening had started hours ago, and completely on accident.

It took him a couple seconds longer than it should’ve to realize he was supposed to be saying something to you. “Oh,” he said, trying not to let his disappointment show, “okay.”

You were smiling as your eyes stayed trained on your purse, still fishing around for your keys. “Thank you for, well, all of it I guess,” you punctuated your sentence with a laugh.

He smiled warmly at you even though you weren’t looking at him yet. “No problem.”

“Ah,” you said as you finally found your keyring. You never thought your purse was all that large and yet you never seemed to find what you needed when you needed it. “Right. Well, I’d, um,” you stammered, wanting to ask and say about twenty different things and unable to decide on a single one of them. Taking a breath to get yourself together, you said, “I had a really good time, despite how all of this started,” you laughed for a moment and so did he, “and it’d be, I don’t know, I’d like to see you again…” you trailed off even though you didn’t mean to.

He smiled, relief and excitement battling it out in his chest. “I’d like that.”

Without giving it a second thought, he pulled out his phone and gave it to you, fumbling his way through asking you for your number. He would’ve been more self-conscious about his lack of grace with it if you hadn’t seemed so eager to type in your name and number.

You held his phone back out to him. “So, yeah, let me know when you’re free.”

He reached to take it back from you. There was the briefest moment of hesitation before you let his phone go, one that got him to look up from where your hands were nearly touching and into your eyes. You let go of his phone, and he slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans, but neither of you took your eyes off the other. Bucky couldn’t help but to notice the way that your teeth pulled just slightly at your bottom lip. He found himself opening his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He could’ve let it all die out there, or he could’ve let himself succumb to the nerves of not being able to conjure up something to say, but instead he found himself choosing a third option that he hadn’t even thought was available to him.

Stepping in and closing the tiny strip of space left between you, Bucky pressed his lips to yours. It was gentle, and brief. He pulled away when you’d barely gotten past the shock of him kissing you at all. You saw the way his eyes were searching yours, looking for the cue to either get lost or come back for more. The moment of silence terrified him, almost had him sputtering out an apology.

Then you closed the gap and kissed him again. A little more conviction, a palm resting against his chest. It was a minor miracle that you hadn’t dropped your keys to the ground as he kissed you back. His hand came up and cupped your cheek, palm warm against you despite the chilly night air.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t hide that it’d left you a little breathless. His hand was still cupping your face and it had you smiling wide enough to make your cheeks ache. Fidgeting with the keys in your hand, you forced yourself to speak. You purposely ignored how soft and breathy your voice was.

“You can come up if you want,” you offered.

You were just far enough away from him to see the surprise that crossed his features. “Yeah?”

You nodded, keenly aware of the way his hand felt on your face as you did. “Yeah.”

The slowness of the elevator in your apartment building was usually something that served to be a mild annoyance for you. However, this time, you wished that it would’ve taken longer to climb up to the fifth floor where your apartment was. Hell, you would’ve been fine if it had gotten stuck if it meant you had a few more moments with Bucky keeping you pressed against the wall, his lips capturing yours over and over again.

It was the singular chime that broke the two of you apart, the alert that you’d arrived at your floor. The walk from the elevator door to your apartment door was a short one but it felt tragically long when you had Bucky behind you with his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. You had no idea how you managed to get your key into the lock so that the two of you could get inside, but you did it.

You closed and locked the door behind you once you were inside. Out of habit you reached and flicked the lights on. Bucky still had one hand on the small of your back, using the other to deftly undo the laces on his boots so he could toe them off beside your door where the rest of your shoes had been tossed haphazardly as the weeks had passed by.

You’d hardly dropped your purse and keys off when he was pressed up against you again, his chest flush against your back. You sucked in a tiny gasp as your body melted back into him. You wanted to say something but the second he was pulling the collar of your shirt to the side and pressing his lips to your shoulders, whatever pleasantries you’d been thinking of went completely out the window.

 Even though you knew your apartment like the back of your hand, had navigated through it in the dark and after nights out when you had more than a few drinks, you nearly found yourself stumbling as you walked through the lit-up room with Bucky attached to you.

Once the two of you were in your bedroom, Bucky put his hands on your hips and spun you around so that you were facing him. He wasted no time as he leaned in and kissed your lips, like the few minutes of being unable to had been hours instead. His hands trailed their way up to your face, palms warm and rough to the touch all at once. Keeping his lips on yours, he walked you back towards your bed. You were reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt just as the backs of your legs pressed against the side of your mattress.

Bucky indulged you, assisting you in peeling his shirt off over his head and tossing it aside. Any time that you would’ve spent standing there gawking at him was quickly stolen away as he pressed himself close to you again, firmly but gently getting you back onto the bed.

Every movement felt like it fed so easily into the next. The pair of you were nothing but wandering hands and ragged breaths as you stripped the clothes off each other. The floor was littered with them but neither of you cared. Bucky was down to his boxers, you your bra and panties. He had you pinned underneath him but it didn’t stop his hands from roaming everywhere they could. They wandered across your stomach, up and down your thighs, grazing over your chest. Every touch and graze had you pressing yourself into him more and more, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as you let out little whines and whimpers of encouragement.

You could feel the effect that it had on him. No amount of wanting to feel every inch of you underneath his fingertips could stop him from grinding his hips against yours. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had him feeling so desperate so quickly—he didn’t know if there ever had been a last time.

Like you could hear his thoughts, Bucky felt your fingers curling over the edge of the waistband of his boxers. You started pushing them down his hips and Bucky had no intention of stopping you. He quickly kicked them off the rest of the way before his fingertips dragged down your stomach until they slipped underneath the waistband of your panties. The lightest brush of his fingers had you bucking into his hand and whatever plans he’d had to drag this out no longer mattered. He easily pulled the flimsy fabric down your legs, making quick work of it as you lifted your legs to help.

It took every last shred of Bucky’s self-control to not just slip right into you. The way you had your legs wrapped around his waist would’ve made it so easy to do. He kissed you, neediness bleeding from his lips to yours as his hands continued to trace lines up and down your thighs.

 “Do you have—” Pulling away just enough so that your lips weren’t touching anymore, but not so much that you couldn’t feel his breath on your skin as he spoke. He managed to get out half the question he had before you cut him off.

“Top drawer,” you answered, already knowing where it was going.

The chuckle he let out got a smile out of you. The awkwardness and discomfort that occasionally accompanied first-time hookups was nowhere to be found. He pressed a brisk kiss to your lips before leaning and reaching over for the handle of the top drawer of your nightstand. You took advantage of the momentary position of vulnerability that he was in, lifting your head to kiss and then suck a mark where his neck met his shoulder. You heard the groan he let out, but more than that you could feel it as you kept your lips pressed there.

Him quickly tearing the foil of the condom with his teeth shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and yet you found yourself staring. He caught it, too, and the smirk on his face would’ve made your knees week if you’d been standing rather than on your back beneath him.

You watched him roll the condom on, biting down so hard on your lip you were surprised that you didn’t draw blood. Your eyes slowly traveled their way back up his torso until you were looking into his. The eagerness, the tension in his body could be felt in all the places the two of you were connected. Even so, he still waited for one more yes from you.

The yes he was waiting for came in the form of you putting your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down into a kiss, in the way you wrapped your legs a little tighter around him and pulled him in closer to you. You felt the way that he instantly gave in, slowly pushing into you as you moaned into his mouth at the sensation. You felt the way that he smiled into your kiss as your nails bit down into the flesh of his neck and shoulder.

“Fuck,” he rasped out, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. He took a moment to revel in it, the feeling of being buried into you so that his hips were flush against yours.

Moving your hand from the back of his neck so that it was cupping his chin, you pulled him back into another kiss. You felt each little hum and moan that he let out as he started to thrust into you, his arms on either side of your head caging you in. He kept himself pressed tightly to you, leaving your hands to wander the broad, muscular expanse of his back. The way you moaned his name, the moments when you’d rake your nails down his back, let him know that he was pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

He peeled himself off you, separating his chest from yours. You longed for the contact as soon as it was gone, but before you could think too much on it, he moved one of your legs so that it was draped over his shoulder. When he picked up his rhythm once more, you were grabbing onto his hips before you even knew what you were doing, begging him not to stop like he’d ever even dream of that in the first place.

Your leg was starting to tremble against his shoulder. Instinctively he turned and pressed a kiss to the side of your calf as he continued to thrust into you. Your grip on him tightened as you breathlessly moaned, “Just like that.”

A few more thrusts just like that and you were coming undone around him. He soaked in every moment of it, the feeling of you, the way you cried out his name, the way your body arched and tensed before going pliant.

He was chasing right after you, after that same high. He was nearly there and the soft, needy way you whined out, “Bucky,” in the waves of aftershock sent him clean over the edge. His hips stuttered as he came, your name tumbling from his lips. He collapsed against you, face buried in the crook of your neck as your legs went back to looping around his waist, keeping him pulled tight and still inside you.

You weren’t sure if it was your own heartbeat that you were feeling thudding in your chest or his, but you supposed it didn’t matter. Both of you were fighting to catch your breath, bodies practically melting into each other’s. You wrapped your arms around him, hands gentle on his back where just minutes before you’d been digging your nails into the cords of muscle there. He kissed the column of your throat, the little bit of stubble that was growing in feeling extra ticklish in your sensitive state, enough to get you to giggle and twitch at the sensation.

Once he’d gotten a little bit of his breath back, he propped himself up enough to look at you properly. “You okay?”

You laughed, unable to do anything else but that and nod for a moment. Finally, you said, “I’m great, yeah.” It got a chuckle out of him as you reached and trailed your fingertips down his cheek. “You okay?”

He nodded before leaning in and kissing you. “I’m great.” A few more moments passed in comfortable silence, the two of you just taking in the sight and state of each other. You noticed the small shifts in his expression, and you waited for whatever was coming next. “Um,” he looked over towards the door of your bedroom, “where’s your…so I can…”

You laughed, head dropping back against your pillow. “Out the door and to the left.”

He chuckled, a blush creeping over his cheeks. “Thanks. I’ll be, you know, right back.”

You afforded him the illusion of privacy as he searched and grabbed his boxers off the floor and scampered off to your bathroom. You chuckled as you managed to get yourself out of bed, making your way over to your dresser on wobbly legs to you could grab your own shirt to sleep in. You were back in bed and under the covers by the time Bucky came back.

When he got back to your bedside, he reached down and grabbed his shirt off the floor. He didn’t make an immediate move to put it on, instead just holding it loosely in his hand. “I can—”

“Stay,” you didn’t even want him to put the idea of leaving out into the universe. Not after the night the two of you had just had. “I mean,” you laughed softly, “if you want. I’d like that.”

There was no hesitation as he dropped his shirt to the ground. “Okay.”

He easily shimmied down underneath the covers beside you. You curled into him, allowing his arm to slip beneath you and pull you tighter so that your head was resting on his chest. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the thrumming of his heartbeat. You also started to feel not just the tiredness in your muscles from everything that had just happened, but also the exhaustion of how late it was now.

The same tiredness was present in Bucky’s voice as he spoke, words partially mumbled as he spoke them into your hair. “Light’s still on out there.”

“Leave it,” you replied words equally mumbled as you said them with your lips partially pressed against his chest. “I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

The hum of amusement that he made let you know that he wasn’t going to worry about it now either. Draping his other arm around you, he slipped his hand underneath your shirt so that his hand was splayed across the center of your back and keeping you tight to him. Nestling farther into him, you rested your palm on his chest as you finally let yourself start drifting off to sleep.

(divider by @saradika-graphics 💞)

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @artemiseamoon @late-to-the-party-81 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists please let me know! xo)

[sanaexus]

social's as shidou's girlfriend

-liked by itoshi_sae, isaichii and 145.7k others

yourusername: i feel bad for rin this mf don't even go easy on his on girl

tagged: shiidoryu

shiidoryu: they say all is fair in war and love ↳itoshi_sae: it's love and war fucking idiot ↳shiidoryu: you love me 🥺👉👈 ↳yourusername: mate IN MY FUCKING COMMENTS? ↳shiidoryu: you're saving as if i don't eat that pussy every night ↳yourusername: blocked. reported. I FUCKING HATE YOU??? ↳chigi.who: woah guys maybe like don't do that here??

nikkoki: why the last image. ↳yourusername: why not 🙁 ↳megubachi: for gits and shiggles 🥰 ↳rin.itoshi: that's not the fucking quote?? ↳megubachi: and you're not the best striker so stafu ↳rin.itoshi: TAJTS SO UNNNESCARY?? ↳isaichii: look at rin finally genz-ing w the spelling errors and capital letters ↳hiyori: feels like yesterday he was js a little baby ↳megubachi: they grow up too fast ↳rin.itoshi: you guys are my 13th reason.

shiidoryu: si 💔you💔won't💔mention💔the💔part💔where💔i💔 bought💔you💔icecream💔and 💔then💔talked💔sjit💔ab 💔your💔ex💔 ↳yourusername: and you're not gonna mention the part where we had the bet who could swing the fastest and i won bc you fell on your butt and felt like you were ab to throw up so you HAD to get me icecream? ↳shiidoryu: #donttakltomeiamdespressed #betryaedbymyowngf #emo ↳karasu_tabito: HE FELL ON HIS ASS? DO YOU HAVE THE RECORDING I'LL PAY FOR IT ↳yourusername: bet how much we talking? ↳karasu_tabito: enough to buy another shidou prolly ↳yourusername: check your dms ↳eita.otoya: are we buying people from the black market ↳kenyu.yukimiya: no we are not the fuck?

-liked by kuniisuke, megubachi and 159.4k others

shiidoryu: i actually do love my girl and i don't always act gay

tagged: yourusername

julian.loki: "i actually do love my girl" proceeds to try to throw her into a garbage can ↳mikka.kaiser: fucking dustbin you mean? ↳hiyori: OH MY GOD U REMIND ME AB LINDASY FROM MY 4TH GRADE CLASS WHO USED TO NITPICK ON EVERYONE FOR THERE ENGLISH ↳mikka.kaiser: their* ↳isaichii: stfu it's called a trashcan ↳kuniisuke: i think we're straying off topic BC THAT'S A WHOLE AHH HUMAN THAT'S GOING TO BE PUT ON A FUCKING DUSTBIN ↳mikka.kaiser: in* ↳oliver.aikyu: i swear to fucking god i will ↳alexis.ness: nuh uh ↳yourusername: MAN KUNIGAMI AND OLIVER THE ONLY REAL ONES FR ↳oliver.aiku: we gotchu girl ↳kuniisuke: second that except in a less gay manner ↳julian.loki: SHE'S BEING PUT IN TRASH. ↳rin.itoshi: she's fine. shidou has that trash tan all the time ↳megubachi: i think she's okay considering how ego roams around with that garbage ahh haircut ↳isaichii: that trash can't be worse than igaguri's football skills, she's fine ↳mikka.kaiser: YOU SAID FOOTBALL THANK FUCKING YOU ↳shiidoryu: you're fucking him?

user1: ignoring the second picture the one is actually so cute like 🌷🧚‍♀️💅🎀💕✨‼💯 ↳yourusername: lyt cutie ↳shiidoryu: YOU NEVER EVEN CALL ME CUTE? ↳yourusername: go stare at sae's ass or something ↳itoshi_sae: no don't do that don't stare at my ass ↳yourusername: jokes aside he was actually nice to me in that picture (he didn't try throwing me off) ↳user2: something in that sentence makes me think she got thrown off a swing far too many times ↳shiidoryu: in my defense she keeps putting tomatoes in my sandwhich ↳yourusername: you look like one don't blame me

karasu_tabito: did he fall on his butt this time? ↳yourusername: he was careful bc i was sitting on his lap ↳eita.otoya: shidou in his softie green flag era? ↳yourusername: what if he's actually doing this to gain my trust and like gives me off to some kidnapper ↳nikkoki: bffr rn he would probably BE the kidnapper ↳shiidoryu: yeah what if I AM the kidnapper

-liked by chigi.who, hiyori and 198.5k others

yourusername: he isn't always an asshole <3

tagged: shiidoryu

chigi.who: the last picture?? ↳yourusername: my life goals right there ↳yourusername: shidou that better be us when we grow up ↳shiidoryu: that already IS us ↳yourusername: are you called me a 73.8 year old grandma? ↳shiidoryu: IN MY DEFENSE IM CALLING MY SELF A GRANDPA TOO

aryu.jubei: your hair is very ✨glam✨drop the hair care routine (did he try to yank your hair?) ↳yourusername: check dms ↳yourusername: SURPRISNGLY NO?? HE WAS ACTUALLY REALLY NICE TODAY?? ↳shiidoryu: i'm always nice baby ↳yourusername: yeah to your side chicks ↳shiidoryu: YOU are the side chick, sae is ml ↳yourusername: oh fuck you what does that man have other than thick thighs, a thick ass and an ass attitude ↳itoshi_sae: what do i not have ↳yourusername: proper relationship with your family ↳itoshi_sae: fuck off

shiidoryu: you look pretty ↳yourusername: ily im gonna go cry ↳shiidoryu: DON'T CRY WHY ARE YOU CRYING NOW I COMPLIMENTED YOU ↳yourusername: THAT'S THE THING YOI COMPLIMENTED ME ↳shiidoryu: wajt

user3: she looks so pretty and happy in the second pic. shidou you better watch out, i'm in your walls ↳shiidoryu: my walls are nasty, what if my dead hamsters are there ↳yourusername: MY TEIGO. I BOUGHT IT TO YOUR HOUSE AND IT JS DESPAWNED ↳shiidoryu: I'M SORRY

user4: when a zesty ass loving thigh loving (man loving) tomato looking demon who kicks balls around and pick fight w emo boys can pull ↳yourusername: my dms are open for u ↳shiidoryu: no they're not ↳oliver.aiku: how much we betting that he's gonna go make 15 accounts to spam y/n dms ↳isaichii: betting a whole ahh bachira ↳megubachi: WHY ARE U BETTING ME OFF??? ↳chigi.who: betting my other acl ↳kuniisuke: HELP WHAT?? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: betting my already shit vision ↳nagi.seishiro: my gaming console ↳reo.miikage: my entire networth ↳itoshi_sae: my abibas sponsorship ↳user5: ABIBAS 🔥🔥💯💯🔛🔝🗣🗣 ↳rin.itoshi: betting off my brother ↳itoshi_sae: what

welllll that took a lot longer than it should have buttt here you go shidou simps i had fun writing this ig sorta maybe kinda idk

[mewcury-chaos]

📻🍎𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒🍎📻

{𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡/𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭}

+ type: mini-shot + note: none + artwork: @cursedp1nky

synopsis: Day out, with a bit of an issue....

[ previous: {Day 5 - Domestic/Demon} ]

────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

“Love? Can you snatch me the corset?”

“Darling. Why in God's name would you wear a c҉o҉r҉s҉e҉t҉??? You’re simply perfect the way you are... There’s no need for such additions…”

Alastor exasperated, pacing impatiently in pointless circles at the front of the bathroom. The Radio Demon was already dressed up, perfect, and ready. His shoes tapped relentlessly against the floorboards of the blond’s bedroom. Dragging a hand forcefully through his hair, Alastor spoke up once more.

“It’s a simple outing, we’re not going to a gala dear!!!” Though anxious, a smile remained on his lips. His was heart humming with childish excitement.

It was their first day out as a couple, after all. Alastor was aware of his partner’s………………. tendencies to overthink petty little details. Despite the continuous coaxing sessions and reassurances, his voice dangerously soft, the little angel refused to turn a hair.

“Lucifer, darling. I cannot care less about how you look, how you dress, or what any other d҉a҉m҉n҉e҉d҉ ҉v҉e҉r҉m҉i҉n҉s҉ think of you. At the end of the day, they’d all be blissfully dead.” 

The sinner chuckled darkly, the malice in his tone was evident, shadows looming over, encircling the deer demon with a misty, daunting veil. 

The ominous air dissipated as soon as it appeared. Alastor pinched his eyebrows, leaning back against the crimson wallpapers with a small sigh.

“I’m here for a reason. I’m alive for a reason. I’m all ‘properly’ dolled up and being the equivalent of a pathetic lovesick little mutt for a reason, my dear. And that reason, is you. So kindly exit the bathroom and let us enjoy this evening in peace?”

A moment later, the demon heard the wooden door unlatched, as Lucifer poked his head out of the entrance, an awkward smile spreading on the King's face.

“That was quite a while, mon cher.” Alastor glanced up at the blond’s figure, eyes trailing up and down, his grin getting wider as he promptly left the wall to stand before Lucifer.

Alastor, being Alastor, not knowing how to ‘show’ affection, settled for a gentle ruffle on the sin’s head, running his claws through the silky hair, taking in the feel of the strands lost amongst his fingers.

“Sooooo, what do you think?” The angel piped up, a small tint of magenta splashing through his face as he spun around, grinning like an idiot as he showed off his outfit.

“Don’t you worry. You’re always bite-sized, my dear ...................and adorable.”

Alastor murmured, gently taking his darling's wrist and pressing a thumb to his pulse point, his other hand went to the small of the other's back.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat, holding his breath, the small flush spread to the tips of his ears. He felt a finger lazily brushing up and down his arm, the other hand laying comfortably on his lower back. Their bodies weren't even close, no true physical intimacy, but that tiny gesture was enough to make him burn red all over.

Alastor, a feared overlord, is strangely endearing in his own way. And he loved every single part of it.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

cutscene:

Alastor: I will cherish you til the day I die, do not forget that, my love.

Lucifer: Alastor....................... again..................... you're already dead.

Alastor: Ahhh................. I supposed I've overlooked that detail. Nonetheless, I'd still cherish you to the best of my ability.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

[ {masterlist} ] p/s: thank you for all the support seriously i love this fandom and its people with all my heart!!!! couldn't have been here without you all.

p/ss: SHOUT OUT @beep-beep-imma-sheep for unintentionally being the emotional support i never thought i needed. don't know who you are, or whether you're actually a sheep, but....... yes your comments give me a ton of smiles. <3

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

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eat, sleep and stay hydrated <333

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well😊

I’ve been stalking your blog for a while and I love how you write the dc boys and was wondering if I could request a head cannon or small blurb?

So, one of my guy friends has a list of things written in his iPhone about his girlfriend, like her favorite food, flower, color, possible gift ideas, any and all anniversaries, etc. just a long list of everything he can think of pertaining to her. It got me thinking about Jason/Tim/Dick having something similar on their phone for their SO. Maybe the reader finds it one day while scrolling through their phone and they just 🥺❤️❤️ while their boy get flustered lol

Dick

Dick had a list on his phone specially made for you and while to some it would seem like what he had listed were mundane or not all that interesting, but that couldn’t be less then the truth to him as everything pertaining to you was worth jotting down and remembering.

From the way you liked your tea/coffee, your comfort movie and or tv show, right down to the way you always wanted to go on a date to a proper aquarium one day, all of this and so much more was taken into account as Dick often used this knowledge for brainstorming your next date night.

He takes it extremely seriously as he wanted everything to be worthwhile for you and also the fact that he’d get to see you smile as brightly as you did, it was his Achilles heel and Dick wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

So one day when he was writing down ideas on where to where to take you for your next date, you were just so happened to be in the room to take notice how on he left his phone open as he went into another room for one reason or another, and got curious as to what he had been so concentrated on; and what you found was enough to melt your heart.

In an extremely long list was filled to the brim with things about you that dick loved/took notice of and adored that even you yourself didn’t notice doing half of these things. It was like as though Dick saw more to you than you ever did and it made you feel…well loved.

‘Aww Dick. Is this list all about me?’ You asked as you read further down the list as Dick burrowed his face into your neck as he held you from behind after seeing you read the list on his phone.

‘It’s not like I can deny it now can I darling,’ he said, tightening his hold on you as he felt his cheeks fluster slightly, he’s not use to someone reading his innermost thoughts and feelings and now that someone has he’s not use to the feeling he was currently experiencing.

‘There’s even stuff in here that I’ve told you ages ago.’ You exclaimed, looking over at him with adoration. ‘You’re amazing you know that.’ You praised him, kissing his forehead softly.

‘So I’ve been told but it means a hell of a lot more when you’re the one praising me.’ Dick chuckled as he kissed your neck, keeping you close as the list on his became long forgotten as you continued to smother your dickie bird in affection.

Jason

Jason’s list about was seemingly never ending with how often he was adding onto it with things that you did or have started doing just recently that he couldn’t get enough of.

He had things such as how you’d snuggle up in bed in one of his hoodies, cuddling the pillow on his side of the bed close to your chest whenever you were missing him and stuff like how you latch yourself onto him from behind and chomping down on his shoulders and biceps when you wanted some attention from him.

Anything and everything you did that made his heart melt into a puddle was there and as mentioned beforehand it was growing on a daily basis.

So when you came across this list of his, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were seeing yourself through his own eyes for the first time, and seeing just how serious he was about you from his long and detailed list on just about everything you’ve ever done before and during your relationship.

There were even parts where he would go on about how cute you were during certain moments and how he’d take you to special places for dates when given enough time, and being amazed at how he’d remembered something you had brought up in passing several months ago.

Jason had taken every single detail about you and show just how much he loved them by keeping a list of them on his phone so that he doesn’t ever forget. Perks of being a hopeless romantic who’s read every Jane Austen book in existence. You had consumed his mind, body and soul and this listen only proved it as you delved in just how much you seemingly were on your pretty boy’s mind, much to his embarrassment.

‘Sweetheart.’ He droned from behind you. ‘You weren’t learnt to see that.’

‘Why not?’ You asked, holding his phone close to your chest, pouting, wanting to read more of his list about you and your many, many, many attributes that he adored like no other.

‘It was meant to be kept a secret so that I could surprise you on our next date.’ Jason told you with flustered cheeks at the fact that you now knew just how deeply he thought of you.

You only smiled at him as you peppered his face in kisses. ‘You’re such a hopeless romantic.’ You teased. ‘I love it.’

‘Only for you sweetheart, only for you.’ Jason murmured as he leaned in for more face kisses.

Tim

‘You shouldn’t be reading that.’ Tim would say when he found you reading the embarrassingly long list that he had specifically made for you and everything he’s known about you since you started dating. Tim was smart to take safety procedures in most things, but he seemingly forgot that you could easily access his phone that he had left open by accident.

‘Why not, are you embarrassed?’ You asked, smiling at how hellbent your boyfriend was on getting you to stop read in the list that he himself had made.

‘No, it’s just-‘

‘I’m only teasing sweet Tim, I think it’s really sweet that you made a list all about me.’ You interpret him as you reached out to hold his hand, squeezing it reassuringly when you felt his nervousness, kissing the back of it for good measure.

‘You really are a pain.’ Tim groaned as he plopped himself down next to you, still not over the fact that he was left his phone open for anyone to read just how badly your hold over him was, he thanked god that it was you who came across it rather then his siblings. Tim would never be able to live it down if someone like Damian or Jason or god forbid Dick had found his big little list about his perfect partner.

It had everything from your comfort foods, to that childhood plush that you held tremendous sentimental value towards, and things that you’ve mentioned once or twice that didn’t seem like much but were more then worth writing down and kept for future reference.

He couldn’t help it, there was so much about you that was worth writing down as you meant a lot to Tim and he found often found himself coming up with complex ideas for something as simple as your future date nights. Most were mainly date nights spend at home but neither of you were complaining if it meant spending quality time together, regardless of where that might end up being.

‘Well that’s odd because if I was then you wouldn’t have made the equivalent to an Google docs on me.’ You cheekily said, bumping your shoulder with his as he groaned, covering his face with his hands but the tips of his ears were beet red. God he was cute when he wasn’t being sarcastic and a smart ass. ‘I hate you.’ He said, voice muffled by his hands.

You smiled as you kissed the hands covering his face before leaning your head against his shoulder. ‘I love you too Tim Drake, more than anything.’

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“a nasty boy + a nasty girl = a mutual good time”

A/N: so I got high and horny and immediately thought about pornstar!joel and baby love. Me, personally? I love masturbating and it’s a great way to spend ur time if you’re bored, frustrated, sad, happy! It’s also a great way to get to know your own body better, (and your partners) in fact, the world would be a better and happier place if more people masturbated <3

word count: 1.3k

Summary: you and Joel have some fun getting high and playing with yourselves

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, established relationship, reader and Joel’s are pornstars, mutual masturbation, pussy play, handjob, cum shots, pussy pronouns, intimacy,language, one brief mention of Tommy slinging his meat, mentions of drugs (ouid), Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, readers nickname is baby love, NSFW, minors DNI! +18

Almost every Sunday afternoon after you and Joel finished running your errands for the day, you would spend the rest of your afternoon getting high, and playing with yourselves. Sometimes Tommy would invite himself over, and the three of you would share a joint and throw on a porno of your choosing; always your choosing. You’d almost always pick something that you were filmed in. Whether it was solo play or you and Joel, or the three of you. (Neither Joel or Tommy would ever complain, of course.) There wasn’t anything you loved more than watching yourself get off.

Then you would find yourself sandwiched between them, letting your thighs fall open on either side of their knees, while they would be stroking their cocks and struggling to mentally decide if they should focus on the screen, or the way that your fingers were prettily playing with your pussy.

More times than not, it would just be you and Joel upstairs in your bedroom. You’d be in a fit of harmonious giggles when you waste no time to strip yourselves of your comfortable clothing and clamber onto the bed.

You were sitting across from each other, your legs were fully spread while his were just slightly spread open with a pillow underneath both of your backs for extra comfort and support. (No reason to get yourself off and then deal with the back pain afterwards. Where’s the fun in that?)

His right hand was lazily wrapped around the base of his cock in a semi-tight fist, languidly pumping himself. You loved how pretty his fist looked wrapped around his cock and the way his lips were parted open to release the softest grunt.

He watched your own ministrations with hooded eyes when you dragged your hand between your thighs, gathering up the sticky arousal that pooled in the seam of your pussy. You teasingly played with your folds, spreading them open so he could see your inner muscles clench and pulse. You slid your fingers further southwards, dipping them into your tight hole before slowly slipping them back out to spread your lips open again. A string of arousal hung between your middle and ring finger like the delicate strings on a harp. He could see how puffy and slick your lips were before he finally dragged his gaze upwards to your face.

“She’s the prettiest, neediest, and messiest lil’ cunt I’ve ever seen, baby love. Wish you could see just how puffy she looks from this angle, goddamn.” His words drooled and leaked like your sopping pussy. He was so, so filthy and always knew exactly what to say to really get you going.

“Mmm.” You hummed and took your lower lip between your teeth when you gently circled your clit, spreading your thighs open further. “I’m so wet right now, daddy. Love how pretty you look with your fist wrapped around your cock. Love watching you.”

He twisted his wrist, gently squeezing himself for a second of relief. He was so fucking hard, his cockhead was red and drooled a bead of precum that he used as extra lubricant. The sound of his hand fisting himself was nothing short of obscene.

“Love watching you play with your pretty pussy, baby love. Gettin’ her all nice and wet, yeah? She’s so messy.” He let out a throaty chuckle. “How many fingers do ya think you can fit inside of you for daddy?” He asked with a suggestive raise of his brow.

“She’s so messy.” You agreed as you let out a soft whimper. “I bet I could fit three…but I wanna see if I can make myself squirt this time.”

“Oh fuck, thas’ what you wanna do? Make your pretty pussy squirt all over the sheets…again?” He teased, pumping his fist in sync with your fingers playing with your clit. “You can easily fit three, baby love. You take my beer can of a cock with no problem. Would love to see you stretch yourself open.”

“Beer can of a cock?” You giggled and slipped your fingers back southwards to gather more of your arousal between them and brought them up to your mouth. You swirled your tongue around both digits, moaning softly at the tangy taste of yourself on your tongue. “Where’d you hear that one from, baby?”

“The internet, of course.” He said pridefully and with glee. “Twitter specifically said that I have a beer can of a cock. Maybe I should post a comparison?” He asked with a playful grin, reaching his freehand down to play with his balls, massaging them gently between his fingers.

“Oh, what if you did post a comparison, but with your cock resting on my face, and then the beer can next to it?” You suggested while bringing your hand back down to the seam of your pussy, slipping two fingers into your tight hole with ease.

“You just want an excuse for me to rest my cock on your face, baby love. Ain’t need an excuse for that, but that sounds hot. I’m all in.” He pumped his cock faster, falling in sync with how you were beginning to scissor your pussy open with your fingers.

“Always want to have an excuse for that, daddy.” You winked at him with that sultry smile of yours, face twisted in pleasure when you curled your fingers against your g-spot.

“Fuck, yeah, there you go, baby love. God, your pussy sounds so messy and wet. She sounds so-so pretty.”

You shallowy thrust your fingers faster, bringing your freehand down between your thighs so that you could play with your clit at the same time. You listened to the wet squelch of your pussy clenching down on your fingers, mixed in with yours and Joel’s moans.

He delayed his own orgasm for as long as he possibly could, desperately panting out your name and asking if he could cum on your face and tits.

You could feel your body begin to spasm, but not quite like the first time you had squirted. It was enough for you to see stars behind your closed eyes before you slipped your fingers out, with a loud, high pitched moan.

Yes, daddy! Come all over my face and tits.

And he did just that. It was your idea for him to use this as the comparison photo with the beer can. While he rushed downstairs, you dragged your fingers through the mess of cum on your tits and face, bringing your fingers up to your mouth so you could have a proper taste of him.

When he returned, he was met with the sight of you tasting his cum, and his cock jolted between his thighs, bobbing heavy and needy again. “Jesus fuck. You’re such a nasty little cockslut tasting daddy’s cum like that, baby love.

He rejoined you on the bed, gently placing the underside of his girth against your face, making sure to not cover up the thick globs of his cum on your pretty face. He held the beer can next to his cock for comparison, while his freehand took the proactive photo on his phone.

“Think I just found myself a new screensaver, baby love.” He said teasingly before he showed you the photo. He reached for the washcloth that he had brought up with him, and while you giggled and gushed over the photo, he cleaned the cum from your face and between your tits.

“What are you gonna caption it, daddy?” You asked sweetly, reaching your freehand up to curl it around his jaw and pull him down for a kiss.

“Mmm.” He hummed, letting you pull his face down to yours as your noses gently rubbed against one another before he slotted his lips against yours. “Thicker than a beer can.”

He ended up captioning the photo on his Twitter account and hour joined account: hunky, texan, and thicker than a beer can ;)

Tommy made fun of him over it for a week straight, but he never changed the caption.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💗

follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

[sanakimohara]

Okay but like changbin gives me I don’t care that you just went to the gym and want to shower, I want you now

“LUNCH” S. C.

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Everyday I cry about the fact that I’ll never have a chance to be strong armed by Changbin. We all can suffer together though…

[ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [ ORAL ] + [ NO PLOT… ]

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Changbin doesn’t know what it is about seeing you working so hard next to him at the gym that gets his blood running hot.

Maybe it's how you look into the mirror as you stretch, so focused but undeniably ethereal at the same time.

Perhaps it's the gentle smile you give him any time you waltz past to another station or area of exercise.

He can’t help but stare you down while working out by himself.

You're gorgeous, and you know he knows.

Maybe the subtle sheen of sweat coasts your skin when your shared workout is all said and done.

You take your time to cool down with him, making sly remarks about his progress and refuting the praise he gives you out of instinctual humility.

He can't quite put his fingers on the reason his cock twitches to life when you make it a point to be touchy with him all the way home.

Leaning into his side as you walk.

Holding his arms in a tight embrace with your head on his shoulder.

Playing with his free hand as he drives while rambling about anything and everything.

Pecking his cheek the instant your apartment door clicks shut behind you both.

The tension is tortuous for him, but he deals with it well.

That is until you bend over to grab a water from the fridge.

His will snaps in two, seeing your backside out for the taking, the brace of your hands gripping cool steel not helping his imagination, and the soft hums you let out as you search for a snack to share, pulling him in close like a siren song.

You jump, feeling his hands on your hips without warning, comfortable but confused.

Changbin has always been touchy, and you don't mind, but the absence of a quick shower has you squirming away from him.

You ask what he wants, leaving the snack choice up for debate as he presses into you.

“Just you..” he murmurs so low you aren't sure if he even spoke, to begin with, but he did, and that much is evident by the heat his breath leaves on the shell of your ear.

It's distracting, his heavy breathing, the subtle grind of his hips as you gasp in shock, and the gentle grip his hands impose on your ass.

“Not now..” you whisper stubbornly, a half-hearted attempt to pry him off your body, but Changbin doesn't hear a word you say.

He's busy slamming the fridge shut, lips trailing your neck for a specific spot as he does, and he finds it in seconds.

You stiffen as his tongue runs over a healing mark, a tender spot he abused on the regular, and you crumble at it.

He bit down a tender nip that roused a high-pitched moan from you.

That lingering adrenaline from the gym surges back, intensifying as his tongue lapped at your surface wound.

You shudder as the wet muscle collects your sweat, lathering his tongue and adding to the thrill you wanted to hide.

“You're disgusting..” you huff defiantly, smiling despite the harsh observation, but Changbin seems to take it to heart.

A sharp slap is given to your backside, unforgiving and completely petrifying.

Your head whipped to the side to glare at him, mouth open to curse him, but you didn't get a chance to.

Changbin takes his time then, exploring your open mouth with care, tongue diving deeper with each lick, luring yours in with sloppy intent.

Drool trickles down your chin, mixing with salty skin and dampening the exchange.

He pushes, and you pull.

One rough movement on his part has you pinned between him and the steel door, chest to chest, eye to eye.

You take a breath, gasping for air as he tears away to mark your neck again, hungry for the taste of you.

In shock, you mewl and writhe, forgetting the desire to freshen up as his hands slip down the underside of your thighs.

One solid tap from him is all you need to jump; legs secure on his waist and hands clasped around his nape.

Changbin steps back twice, turning a heel to lay you down on a countertop.

“Cold!” you hiss, mildly alarmed by the sudden temperature change, but your worries vanish as he tugs at the zipper keeping your cropped athletic shirt together.

You watch as his eyes drift upwards, never leaving yours as the silver zip comes undone above your navel.

Cool air surrounds your breasts, nipples peaking high and remnants of sweat glistening on them.

He stops to admire, smiling wide as your chest rises and falls from slow breaths.

You tug a tuft of his hair, begging him to get a closer view of them, even better taste.

Changbin concedes immediately, warm mouth sinking on your left breast first, suckling slow and harsh before his tongue found a strategic pattern to entertain your bud.

He switched with vigor, going from one mound to the next with a grateful grin.

You shuddered after each menstruation, back arching from the solid counter to meet his firm weight.

He smiled against your skin, purposefully spitting down the valley of your breasts to lick it up with a proud smile.

“You're sick..” you moan wantonly, running your hands through his hair and fisting the dark strands tight as he chuckled.

“And you're aren't?” his rhetorical response earns a blush from you, a rare bashful look in your eyes as his hands tugged at your bottoms.

“M’ not..” you deny out of habit, knowing full well you were lying through your teeth and that the moment your cunt was exposed to him, the red be evidence.

“I doubt that..” Changbin cooed playfully, sweet words contrasting the nearly brash way he pulled your shorts and panties off.

The articles of clothing settled on the floor at his feet, his shirt joining soon after, and you shifted to add your top to the pile but stopped as he shook his head.

“Leave it be. You look cute this way.”

His compliment makes you blank out for a second; it is honest but straightforward.

You attempt to thank him, lips parted to speak gratitude, but all that rushes out is a satisfied whimper as his head nestles between your legs.

How he knelt so fast to get a taste from your cunt wasn't a concern as your focus lingered on his tongue passing through your folds.

One should feel disturbed by the ordeal, being eaten out so vigorously, but you're not allowed to be.

Changbin negates it with pleasure, lapping at your clit religiously, alternating his focus on the bundle of nerves and your heated walls.

His hands keep your thighs apart, forcing them wide open and leveraging that access for all its worth.

You pant physically, losing concentration as he suckles your clit and applies delicate intrusion into your seat heat.

The taste is different to him, more addictive and intoxicating.

He goes back in for more, selfish with his goal to make you come, and thoroughly enjoying the shy screams you let out as your high ramps up.

Changbin eyes your reactions, not stopping you from sitting up on your elbows to watch him devour you.

“Fuck..is it that good?..” you tease him through a string of broken moans, tangling a hand in his hair to push him in closer.

He doesn't fight you, smiling as your walls contract around his tongue.

A rigid shudder through you follows, your smile widening as he moans against your mound, and your toes curl at the primal sound and vibration it imbues.

The gentle swirl of his tongue along your folds and clit is electrifying, dizzying even, and your knees go weak at the feeling.

Was he that deprived of you?

That morbidly starved from your cunt?

You could only assume that was the case with the way he drooled on your entrance, a gentle hiss of approval leaving his slick lips as a mixture of cum and spit slithered down your folds and onto the countertop.

A bit stunned by the vulgar sight, you made a move to hop off the edge out of embarrassment, but Changbin imposed himself on you again, holding you hostage with his clothed cock prodding your cut through his shorts.

His tip twitched at your entrance, the overt action rendering you speechless as he ground his hips harder into you.

Sensitive, you were ever so sensitive as he edged you to delirium.

You glanced downward, getting impatient with him but thrilled by the sight of his erection.

Changbin followed your gaze, smirking as he halted his movements, not minding the pout on your face as he did.

If your stomach wasn't already full of butterflies, it was the moment his bare cock came into view.

You couldn’t look away as he gently pumped his length, precum leaking from his tip in steady drops, and you nearly frowned, seeing the liquid go to waste.

Changbin watched you eyeing him, biting back a grin as your breaths grew heavier with every jut of his fist, “My eyes are up here, baby doll.”

He inches closer, satisfied with how slick his cock is and not hesitating to pass it up and down your folds.

The sensation is a literal adrenaline rush, with wet and soft skin meshing together at the most sensitive point, and your head spins from it.

“C-can’t help it,” you hiss quietly, eyes rolling as they flutter shut.

Changbin steadies himself with a hold on your thighs, grounding you both before he presses forward into your cunt.

The blatant intrusion of his cock makes you weak all over, not a painfully long penetration, but a pleasurable thick one.

In your opinion, Changbin was a perfect fit for you; it was just the right amount of sweet and sultry.

The juxtaposition of his lips pecking at yours softly while his hips snap at an even pace between your trembling thighs is mind-numbing.

All your worries seem to fade when he’s delving inside you so passionately, eyes fixated on your face, hands planted on your waist.

You keep him in place with a lock of your legs around his waist, fingers tousling his hair, and your chest pasted to his with slivers of sweat running down both your bodies.

He’s in no rush, muttering words only deprived lovers share, testing resolve to cum early with rougher thrusts.

“Should’ve fucked you at the gym…let everyone hear how pretty you sound working out on my cock, hm?”

Changbin taunts you through a groan, subconsciously prepared for the vice grip your walls inflict whenever he speaks so explicitly with no hesitation.

You nod lazily, mouth agape as the sloppy rut of your hips creates an exciting rhythm with his, practically drooling, feeling a puddle of cum form on the counter.

Changbin glances down to where you two connect, breath catching in his throat as the skin-on-skin contact presents a sight for sore eyes.

“It kills me how long you make me wait to have you like this. I finally get you all to myself, and you wanna run off…” he pauses, thrusts, taking a faster pace, and one you scream out for.

“It’s not my fault- oh god..” you shudder violently as he pins your hips down, hyperfocused on overstimulating you, and it’s working too well.

The knot in your core winds faster, pulling in on itself with every passing second, and you scramble to hold it at bay with a weak attempt to push his hands off your waist for freedom to move.

You fail, wrists now pinned on the counter with his fists, leaving you helpless.

Changbin readjusts his hold, intertwining your fingers with his, sliding your conjoined hands up above your head.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

He refutes your point, breathing in your moans as your noses brush against each other.

You have more to say; try to tell them, but the impending end of your control nears faster than your will to speak.

It’s a building pressure in your chest that spreads to your cunt in heat waves, flustering you into a fit of cries.

“Fine, it is! It’s my fucking fault! Please don’t stop!..”

Changbin passes his lips over yours, barely hushing your pants as his hands squeeze your fingers gently.

The tenderness of your inner walls baring down him harder and harder the closer you got to an end.

Your agreeable nature infects his ego, a cocky glint in his gaze as he kisses you tenderly.

The swirl of his tongue past yours is comforting, a subtle shove your body accepts before the knot in your core snaps, and arousal pools from your slit.

“Mhm,” he cheekily hums as you come undone against his mouth, lazily gliding his tongue to capture whatever bit of release you had left before kissing your trembling thighs.

“I can’t believe you…” a dramatic groan leaves you as Changbin stands up and leans over to flash a satisfied smirk your way.

“Couldn’t help myself…you know how I get after a workout…”

You scoff, masking a shy smile with a roll of your eyes, “Then remind me to never go workout with you again.”

“Sorry, what’d you say, sweetheart?” He feigns a confused expression, helping you hop off the counter with ease, and you slap his bicep in return.

“Suddenly you’re deaf…”

Changbin laughs, following close behind as you head for a shower, taking the chance of your back being turned to slap your ass.

You yelp, face turning shades of red as he drags you into a back hug.

“I’m not deaf. I just know you’d never pass up a chance to work out with me and I’d never pass on fucking you after…”

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It’s like I’m a ghost of my own page atp. I appear to haunt you guys and then disappear without a trace…🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]