#the selfie on the top screen is a real photo of me that i took on my dsi when i had neckgear in elementary school lol

[spirithotline]

My baby blue DSi - online version of a zine i made for sfzinefest

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: live laugh love nanami kento!!

“where is the list?”

“i think i took a picture of it before throwing it in the trash. can you look for it? i gotta change real quick.” you point at your phone on the table and once again disappear into your shared room. “you remember the password?”

“yes, darling.” nanami nods, more to himself, and makes his way to your phone, taking it carefully.

your lockscreen is always something that makes him smile. while he himself prefers to not have anything on his lockscreen, just for the sake of some kind of privacy when he is at his work — you don’t care about anything and a perfect picture of you both taken by someone else is proudly chosen to represent your lockscreen.

nanami finds it very very sweet. can’t even fight off the tremble in the corner of his lips every time he sees it.

he opens your gallery, quickly finding the picture of a messily scribbled grocery list, but as he goes to leave his eye catches on something more interesting.

an album named “nami <3”.

intrigued, he taps on it, getting greeted with hundreds of pictures of himself he didn’t even know were being taken.

he taps on one, eyes instantly recognising the place and the day it was taken on. that cute and cosy cafe down the street you chose to go to for a little date before his work was about to steal him away from you. on the frame, nanami is caught frowning down at the coffee spot on his tie that he had no idea he just got; the confused pinch between his eyebrows and displeased purse of his lips that only disappeared when he heard your bubbly laughter.

swiping to the left, he sees another frame with himself. in the grocery store, two packs of something in both of his hands as he inspects them with a very focused look, as if he’s going through his mission reports. nanami faintly recalls reading the labels of cookies he wanted for the tiramisu he was planning on making for you since you whined about craving them for a while then.

a different picture, a selfie, your eyes and the top of your head peeking into the lens while nanami and yuuji stand in the background. a thoughtful yet peaceful expression on his face as he seemingly listened carefully whilst yuuji looked up at him with a smile brighter than the sun itself. he briefly remembers the teenager telling him a story from his most recent mission, hands waving around energetically and eyes shining youthfully. he can’t help the smile that spreads on his lips as he stares at the picture for a little too long before tapping on another one.

a photo of him standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom, focused eyes looking at his reflection, right where his hands were tying his tie. you were standing behind him, but he was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you snapping the picture. nanami can see the cute smirk you had on your face behind the phone, though.

as he jumps through the different moments with himself captured with the camera by you, nanami finds himself confused with how many emotions you manage to capture on his usually stern face.

the thought of you always feeling the need to take a picture of him whenever you find the moment suitable is a very welcome one for him.

he also sees the pictures where he smiles favourited. that warms his heart very quickly ;))

“kento? i’m ready, let’s go— huh?” your eye catches onto the screen, quickly realising that he’s found out about the album. nanami watches as your cheeks start dusting with the prettiest shade of pink, looking at him expectantly as you await his answer.

“how come i never notice you taking a picture of me?” he asks with a small smile, putting the phone in your hand in favour of wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you closer.

you giggle, gazing up at him lovingly, “i dunno, baby, you just look so cute sometimes i can’t help myself.”

nanami doesn’t respond, just gives you a knowing look before he shakes his head fondly and makes a note of using his own camera more to take pictures of you.

[garoujo]

roommates to lovers in which nagi doesn’t want to move in with any of his friends bc he doesn’t trust them one bit to not accidentally kill his beloved choki, so he posts a very lazy “looking for a roommate. qualifications: can take care of plants & will mostly leave me alone” on this house hunting social forum on a whim. (to his surprise lol) the post doesn’t get a lot of traction, most people thinking it a prank bc nagi didn’t even set a normal pfp, but you think it’s pretty funny when you come across it, so to feed the joke you snap a pic of your plants – green and thriving in your windowsill – and reply to him with a “can the fam come along?”

you get a dm in 5 minutes tops and the stranger’s like the room is yours and you’re like?? my brother in christ i don’t even know who you are or if you even have an apartment, which you tell him as such, more or less exactly like that, and suddenly you’re sent 20+ pictures, most of them of the (very nice, spacious looking) apartment, but your dumb, frozen finger can’t even swipe away from the first photo, bc it’s of him, of strange house hunting green thumb dude, who clearly just took a quick selfie of himself, white haired tussled from the hoodie over his head, big, teddybear eyes lit up from his phone screen and god fucking damnit he’s real and he’s fucking hot.

you move in two weeks later with your plant family (and then pine over each other for MONTHS before he dicks you down so good emmie i am in shambles)

why’d my stomach flip at the description of him. why does my body betray me like this. RIVER! RIVERRRRR!!!! FUCK! i want him so bad, the first time he opens the door to you + he’s a MESS! he’s like oh shit, pretty and knows he’s fucked. but i’m about to switch this around real quick, perv roommate nagi. who always somehow ends up accidentally sneaking back to his room with a pair of your panties after he offered to do your laundry. who makes sure his bed meets the other side of the wall yours does so he can hear your sweet little moans every night, stroking his cock to the sound of your vibrator — he didn’t tell you the walls were so thin. who always seems to coincidentally be out of his room, roaming the halls as soon as you’re finished your shower — tiny towel wrapped around your figure as he tries not to let his sleepy, lidded gaze drop to the swell of your tits and the way the water trails down your thighs wishing he could follow the trails with his tongue.

[neotaissong]

Film screening went really well. B was sitting next to me laughing at every joke, which was nice cos her pen game goes craaaazy and I pray I can work to that level and standard, like she’s been in the game for 30, can choose her projects, is supported but most importantly is a solid soul. Here’s to solid souls in a dunya filled with sold souls and flip flopping, dishonourable weaklings lol. The q&a was wicked, I was nervous as fck, took the mic and all of a sudden another part of me emerged. The part that is always shining, beaming eloquence and confidently in command. Talked about the film with people in the foyer which was lovely and then went for a walk to clear my head and walk off my film crazy wide eyed energy. I was soooo high off this movie ish and yet before the screening, no, that’s a lie lol, all weekend I felt my imposter syndrome lingering on the edge of the frame. I questioned everything, people treating me so so well (I’ve never been asked so many times if I’m ok or need anything) and people looking after me with such care and consideration, preempting my ish. (It almost felt excessive in such oppressive times) Met C who is an amazing writer who wrote a killer movie (the kind of award winner I’d usually avoid tbh I only came across it for research but it turned out to be dope and not so traditional either) it was so good and revealed a reality so instantly recognisable to me that I called my mum to see it, cos the main character was sick the same as my pops was. I swear the film was literally about my pops, except, played by one of the best and most charismatic actors to ever do it. C was kind and encouraging, somewhat flustered by the print of his movie not being in great quality. B told me about her new forthcoming film, she worked with one of my favourite actresses at the moment. I’m hyped for them, even though I know she’s low cos the funders were lukewarm about the ting. Fck em, it’ll find its people. We all find our people and places, sometimes in the most strangest of times and spaces and not at all how we’d initially envisioned. It’s mad when community doesn’t quite look like how you imagined it but nourishes you all the same. Met some solid souls this weekend. Mostly the sea the sun and meeting myself again tbh. Lol randoms: I wonder what the sea’s soul looks like? Woke up and the stained glass window pane in my hotel room was glowing. You have to be twice as good for half as much as a non white in this place but what if you’re twice as tired and twice as much fed da fck up? Showers are wicked but baths are the ish, music on, drink by ya side. Sheeesh. Top tier tings. A good walk does wonders. When was the last time you saw the sea or jumped in the sea? There were some rocks/stones on that beach that looked and felt incredible. I miss watching movies with my childhood homie Alex we’d just sit and laugh at everything. I wanna go watch some movies in Peckham, the best audience ever. Partynextdoor came on when the train stopped by a farm and I couldn’t stop laughing. I observed so many animals horny af, kept cracking up and asking myself am I the only one seeing this ish and that boi stroking like a mofo lol. Some people are so freaking generous. But so many are on some crabs in the barrel ish it’s sad af. What you give you really do get back. Tenfold. And isn’t it a blessing to be able to give whatever you can if you can? Outside the city centre people are nicer. Was pissed cos I’m not a selfie person and I wanted to take a photo of my fit (not the one pictured lol) and I didn’t have time but pls believe me the levels were levelling my g. A trendy 30 something black woman in yellow walked past, came back and then dropped the: I like your style line and dipped. I was so gassed cos the fit did indeed go braazy lol and I wanted evidence. Frieren and Jujutsu Kaisen are sooooo freakin good and I don’t know anyone who watches em in real life which sucks cos I wanna talk about them sooo freakin bad. Let’s smile again soon. Let’s laugh again soon. DJ Screw Sade is a whole nother gravity, floaty and heavy

[dearclem]

𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑶𝑵𝑬

— a look at clem's mobile device & social media ( ft. kage, montez, candy, aranya, finley, dae-eun ).

THE BASICS:

brand of phone:

apple iphone 14 pro max 1TB²

color:

deep purple.

case:

phone case: plain, matte black. popsocket: a ghostface call me, visual here

locked or unlocked:

locked with both a passcode and face ID. face ID is the preferred method, of course, but her passcode is her mother's birthday in the order of DDMMYR ( so it's 230373 ).

wallpaper:

THIS piece of artwork that she finds very cute ( pastel panting of ghosts sitting on a grassy hill with a crescent moon, clouds, and rainbow in the sky ).

lockscreen:

THIS photo of dao, her cat ( siamese kitten sleeping on its back in her lap with view of adorable toe beans ).

USAGE:

time spent on device:

it depends. on the days of her uploads, she's probably on it more than usual because of engagement. otherwise, she's only on it whenever she's reaching out to someone, when she's playing her games before trying to sleep, or she's looking up something and doesn't have her ipad or computer handy.

five most used apps:

spotify. kindle. webtoon. classic words. animal restaurant.

web tabs:

none are open. whenever she's done using one, she closes it.

last thing googled:

probably when she was looking for a new story, so something like japanese urban legends.

last text message received:

an update regarding a delivery of something she ordered for monty's upcoming birthday.

last voicemail:

probably a spam call and no, her voicemail is never full. she always cleans them out after listening to them, only saving the ones that are really special.

last thing on camera reel & what image was last saved:

last picture taken: THIS selfie. last image saved: THIS photo that she emailed to herself, which was taken for a previous concept to post on her company's instagram for httpfear. ( tw: fake blood ).

extra tidbits:

this is mainly just a section i wanted to add because these were things that came to me as i was doing this, but there was no real place to put them, so you're getting them here. as is true for her regular life, she keeps her phone very tidy and there is a place & reason for everything: all of her apps are organised in folders---e.g., daily, socials, entertainment, games, shopping, etc.---and she only has four folders on each page so the majority of her background is visible; like with her voicemails, she doesn't keep texts directly on her phone unless they're special and she cleans her call history regularly; if you're in her phone, trust she has you saved under a nickname, even if she doesn't ever address you using said nickname; she always closes both web tabs and apps on her phone the second she's finished using them; she is constantly sanatising it; physically CANNOT STAND having the red notification bubbles on anything and when some apps glitch and those things don't always go away immediately when they should is when you get to see angy clem; and she uses one of those privacy screen protectors so you have to be sitting at the right angle to see what she's doing.

SOCIAL MEDIA:

handles:

personal handles: dearclem. handles where she posts all podcast related things: BLKBoxStudios

instagram, latest post:

snapchat, latest sent:

using the mini tripod she has when going on adventures, she took this photo and sent it to monty, rubbing it in that she has goodies and he doesn't 😌

dating apps:

doesn't partake in the thing, no. has no desire and people can be creepy.

spotify:

top three songs of '22: fall in lust ╱ EDEN, jiselle {xx}

❝ we should ride this wave, until the sun comes up baby kiss me harder, make me feel the rush i don't wanna be alone tonight, so why don't we just fall in lust.. ❞

boomerang ╱ the summer set {xx}

❝ let's pop champagne, fake like we're billionaires just you and me, ain't much but we don't care you look so good, i love when people stare you on my arm, tryna keep you there.. ❞

call me back ╱ chase atlantic {xx}

❝ if you get a minute, call me back i'm so lonely and you're the only one that knows me and if you're busy, then i understand it it's bad timing, and i'm probably gonna end up crying.. ❞

last listened to: killer on the drive home ╱ kaiyko {xx}

❝ stop your crying it's not the end of the world but no one listens to a quiet little girl i wanna talk about it, don't wanna shout about it left me alone made me the killer on the drive home.. ❞

tiktok:

she has the app downloaded, but that's only because she gets sent tiktoks and it's just easier to have it downloaded than not. it's never something she finds herself scrolling on.

facebook:

this is another social media app that she wants no part of. she's never had one, nor will she ever because she has no family to keep in contact with and all her friends are nearby.

others:

has youtube, pinterest, reddit, & tumblr.

youtube is where she posts the videos she creates of her two podcasts.

ADVICE PODCAST. HORROR PODCAST. ( tw: horror images, fake blood, creepy eye drawing?, knife ).

pinterest is mostly a private thing ( as in most of her boards are hidden ) because she pins things for aesthetic purposes regarding different ideas she has and may wish to explore in the future. the only boards that are public are her own personal board ( about herself and things she likes ) and a board she's created for the book series she's already published and within that board, each book has it's own section with things like how she pictures the main characters, their connection, the aesthetic of the location & mystery, etc. reddit is something she uses as a way of connecting with some of her listeners and giving them a place to post their own stories and things they may want her to read/cover because whereas she gets some of her inspiration from r/nosleep sometimes, she also likes involving her listeners and that's a wee bit easier to manage in comparison to emails, especially considering she does everything all on her own save for someone she has help her with the editing of her youtube vids. tumblr is where she posts writings, something like a diary of sorts ( think like inkskinned & sue zhao ), though it's completely anonymous and she'd likely throw herself into the void if anyone found out it was her.

[limitlessgojo]

Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help. 

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes. 

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him. 

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him). 

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.” 

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts. 

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips. 

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip." 

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then." 

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public. 

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin. 

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him. 

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day. 

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn." 

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining. 

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this." 

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn. 

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband. 

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself. 

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him. 

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear. 

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head. 

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined. 

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes. 

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact. 

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly. 

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time. 

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it. 

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once. 

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there. 

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke. 

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit. 

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm. 

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut. 

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow. 

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up. 

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out. 

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms. 

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power. 

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside. 

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed. 

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep. 

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn. 

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

All rights reserved to Limitlessgojo.

[t0shii]

ღ — sneaking selfies on their phone

.! timeskip! suna, oikawa, kyotani, (sep) x gn!r

.! flluff/ not proofread

.! uuuuhh this has been sitting in my drafts for some time now 🏃🏻‍♀️ also this is my first real writing for kyo so let's celebrate

suna

the two of you lay on the couch together watching a movie when he looks at you, "i have to pee- you dont have to pause it." you sigh and remove yourself from his body. you mutter a 'hurry' and he makes his way to the bathroom with a "yeah yeah."

while waiting you notice a small cellular device laying on the carpet, immediately you smirk and pick up the object, "perfect." you whisper. you know you need to make your mission quick so you slide over to the camera app and begin take selfies rapidly, silly, cute, ugly, all kinds. hearing the bathroom door click open, you quickly shut off the phone and carefully put it back where you found it. he lays back on the couch and you follow, laying on top of him just as you were before he left. "miss me?" he asks rubbing the small of your back with his hand. "nope"

he doesn't find the pictures until about an hour later, and you've already fallen asleep 10 minutes into your second movie. he reaches down for his phone and scrolls through his socials only when he clicks on his camera to take pictures of you he notices a particular smile in the bottom left corner. intrigued, he clicks on it only to reveal hundreds more of ones just like it others exactly the opposite. "what a brat." he grumbles but really he can't hide the smile on his face as he makes one his homescreen.

oikawa

the two of you lay in a comfortable silence on his bed the both if you scrolling through your phones every now and then showing each other something you found entertaining. "hey i'm gonna go get a snack, do you want anything?" he asks starting to get up, you pout at the loss of warmth but answer 'no' "okay you big baby, i'll be back." he gives you a kiss on the forehead and exits the room humming a familiar song.

at first you continue scrolling on your own phone that is, until you see his in the corner of your eye. you grin wide and snatch it, you don't even have to think about what you're doing as you slide over to the camera app and begin taking hundreds of pictures of yourself, many of which you are scrunching your nose or sticking your tongue out playfully. you continue you take selfies until you hear his footsteps in the hallway, you quickly place the phone back where you found it and slap an innocent pout on your face. "i'm back angel" he sings, sliding back into his previous spot next to you on the bed.

he doesn't see the pictures until later when you've gone to use the bathroom. "what a little devil..." he scoffs, scrolling through the literal hundreds of photos of you now in his camera roll. he smiles as he favorites the, in his opinion, best ones.

kyotani

the two of you were laying on the couch, "get off i'm gonna go get a blanket." you sigh and do as told, "h-" "i'll hurry." he says before you can even get a word out which makes you chuckle. when he's out of sight, you realize he's left his phone and your first instinct is to take pictures of yourself, and you do just that.

you reach for the device and open the camera app, a mischievous smirk on your face, and spam his phone with hundreds of silly pictures. you're so caught up in the moment you don't even notice him walking back into the living room. "what are you doing?" he looks at you, frown written on his face. you freeze, "uhhhh taking pictures, duh." you try to play it cool but he wasn't buying it. "on my phone?" "yeah!" he shakes his head as you hand the phone to him, mumbling a "please dont be mad." "why would i be mad over that? you're so weird." he lays back down and pulls you with him.

it's only when you fall asleep around 20 minutes later he finally decides to loom at all the pictures you took, favoriting his favorite ones, making one his lock screen, resisting the smile that's fighting its way onto your face. he looks back to you and sighs, "you're lucky you're cute, little brat." he swipes a strand of hair away from your face, eyes softened, lips curled up into a grin, "too cute."

[live-the-fangirl-life]

fixing their jacket collar or hood for anyone :) congratulations on 700 again and i hope u have the loveliest of lovely days

You Better Beleaf It

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre - Autumn Leaves

Elide drags Lorcan out to look at the changing leaves. He’ll deny it if you ask, but he enjoyed himself.

I know it took me a while to answer this but I thought it'd be a perfect little autumn fic 🍁 I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

Warnings: Language

1898 words

*******

“Remind me again why we’re out here?” Lorcan drawled from beside her.

Elide rolled her eyes but continued to take pictures of the trees.

They’d both had the day off and she insisted they drive over to the nature reserve to look at the changing leaves. They’d parked on the side of a quiet road and had spent the last twenty minutes enjoying the views and the breeze.

She knew that as much as he was complaining, her boyfriend was just as happy to be out here with her. Okay, maybe not as happy, Autumn was her favorite season after all and she would admit that maybe, possibly she something went a little overboard in her obsession with the season.

But how could she not love the way all the coffee shops started smelling like pumpkin and caramel, or how she could wear her (and Lorcan’s) flannel and leather as much as she wanted, or how the leaves on the trees became such beautiful, bright colors.

Not to mention being able to deck their entire apartment out in Halloween décor. She’d lost count of how many bats, pumpkins, and ghosts now littered their walls and rooms.

And a lot of it was black, so Lorcan felt right at home.

“We’re out here,” she told him again, “because the leaves are changing color and it’s a beautiful day.”

He rolled his eyes but kept her hand snug in his. “But why are you taking so many pictures?” he asked as she lifted her phone to get a better angle of a canopy of trees. He waved his free hand around at the leaves. “This happens every year, are your thousands of pictures today going to look different form the thousands you took last year? Or yesterday?”

Elide halted and used her grip on Lorcan’s hand to pull him to a stop. “First of all, its magical so shut up.” She ginned as he loosed a long-suffering sigh. “Second of all,” she pressed herself closer to Lorcan and spun the phone around as she reached out a hand and attempted to take a selfie of the two of them, “it is different because this particular picture isn’t in my batch from last year. Or yesterday.”

She flicked through her phone to see the photo she just took and frowned.

“What?” Lorcan asked, stepping behind her to rest his chin on top of her head. “not up to your postable standards?”

She laughed and leaned farther back into his warm chest. “Look at it,” she showed him the photo. “The top of your head is cut off and the part of your face that I can see is frowning. And the lighting wasn’t great.”

She felt more than heard his chest rumble as he chuckled. “That’s what happens, El, when you try to use your tiny arm to get us both in the photo.”

She huffed and pressed her phone into his hand. “It’s not my fault you’re a giant.”

“No,” he brought his mouth down towards her ear and she shivered as his breath caressed her skin. “But you love it.” She could feel him smirking.

She was grinning but squeezed his arms as she said, “I’d love it even more you used your obscenely long arms to take a picture of the two of us.”

Lorcan nipped at her ear but took the phone from her and opened the camera. He took a sweet photo of the two of them, Elide pressed against his chest with one arm wrapped around her and the other holding the phone, with the brilliant reds and golds of the leaves behind them.

“Come on, Lor, smile for the camera!” She watched him roll his eyes through the camera screen, but his lips lifted to form a small half-smile. He clicked the button a few more times.

Just as Elide was ready to take her phone back, she caught a wicked gleam in his eye. She narrowed her eyes, but he’d already used his grip around her waist to hoist her in the air and up into his arms. She squealed at the sudden movement and felt him laugh at her reaction. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she sheard the click of her phone again.

Lorcan grinned as he set her back on her feet and handed her the phone.

“Babe, these are perfect,” she beamed before gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

“Good,” he muttered while draping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “Now can we just walk without taking a picture every two steps?”

Elide rolled her eyes but wrapped her arm around Lorcan's waist and letting her hand slide into his back pocket. “I’ll put it away for now, but I won’t promise I won’t be taking any more.”

They followed the pavement until it ended, then continued through the grass-covered path. The sun was moving across the sky and beams of sunlight filtered through the colorful leaves. At one point, Lorcan helped her over a particular tall log before they found a stream weaving through the reserve.

“Hang on a minute, I want to wash some of this gunk off my hands.” She told him as she approached the water. She’d tried pushing a branch out of her way only to get a handful of wet mud probably left by some animal scampering up the tree.

Elide quickly rinsed her hands off, hissing at how icy the water felt. As hastily as she could, she plucked her hands out and dried them on her sweater.

Unfortunately, the frigid water only made her realize how chilly the evening had become. She and Lorcan had been walking long enough that the sun was starting to set, and the wind had picked up, leaving her still-damp hands to freeze.

Lorcan was sitting on the edge of a large rock and looked up from his phone as she walked back towards him. “Better?”

“Mhmm.” She agreed, stepping in between his spread legs. “But I think we should head back.”

He smirked and gripped her hips, pulling her closer. “Oh really? Have you finally had enough of the trees?”

“Don’t mock me.” She glared at him, but it lacked any real anger. An involuntary shiver racked through her body and she clenched her teeth as she said, “It’s cold, let's go back. It’s gonna take us a while to walk to the car.”

She made to step out of his grip, but he held her tighter, frowning as she kept shivering. His hands left her hips and started rubbing up and down her arms, trying to help her warm up. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve turned back a while ago.”

She reached up and brushed a finger over the furrowed skin at his brow, loving the feeling of his large hands roaming over her body. “I didn’t notice it before.” She said, rolling her eyes.

He pulled his phone out and glanced at the clock. His frown deepened. “We’ve got at least an hour of walking if we don’t stop for anymore pictures.” He told her and raised a brow in question.

She huffed but nodded. “Fine, no more pictures.”

Lorcan put his phone back in his pocket and chuckled. “You’re the one who’s cold, if you want to stop it’ll just take longer to get back to the car.”

She hummed in agreement. “I’m looking forward to those heated seats.”

He flashed her a small grin before nudging her backward so he could stand from the rock. The second his hands left her body, she started shivering again which only brought Lorcan’s frown back in full force.

“Here.” He unzipped and shrugged off his jacket and before she could protest and swung it around to hang off her shoulders.

“Lor, I don’t want to take your jacket.” She protested, but it came out weak as she already felt the warmth seep back into her.

He raised a brow and his lips quirked up at her half-assed refusal. “I think I can survive the chill,” he held the coat as she maneuvered each of her arms into the far-too-long sleeves. “You, on the other hand, are already shaking so hard I can hear your teeth chattering.”

Lorcan waited until she got the jacket zipped before helping her roll up the sleeves. It was almost comical how much longer his arms were then here, and she told him as much. He just rolled his eyes.

Finally, his hands traced up her arms and over her shoulders to flip down the collar of the jacket that had gotten rumpled.

Lorcan met her stare, his hands still clutching the edges of the collar, and used his grip to pull her closer towards him. Their lips crashed together and Elide moved her hands to wrap around his middle, pulling him flush against her.

One of his hands moved to her hair, weaving his fingers through it to help tilt her head to a better angle. Her hands came to rest of his ass and he smirked into the kiss as she gave a squeeze.

He laughed as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “Really, Lochan?”

Elide grinned and squeezed again. “Get me back home and I’ll let you do more than that to me.” She winked as his smirk widened.

“You think you can wait that long?” he snaked a hand down her back until it rested over her ass. She opened her mouth to reply but he brought his hand down in a light slap that made her choke on her words. He grinned even wider.

She pulled away and smirked as she held out her hand for him. “Come on, Salvaterre. Before I freeze and you end up with an icicle for a girlfriend.”

Lorcan huffed a laugh but grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his side as they started to walk towards their car.

“An icicle would spend less time taking pictures.” He teased.

She gasped. “I’m going to do you a favor and pretend you didn’t say that.”

Once they got back on the paved path Lorcan asked, “So, did the leaves live up to your expectations? Or do I have another scenic tour to dread.”

“Oh hush,” she poked his stomach. “don’t pretend like you didn’t have a good time. You can tell everyone else that you spent the afternoon brooding as your girlfriend selfishly dragged you through a horrendous afternoon,” she rolled her eyes, “but I have proof that you enjoyed yourself.”

“Proof? Is that right?” he raised a brow but grinned down at her.

“See!” She pointed at his grin. “That right there. I have proof of that.”

Lorcan grunted but squeezed her a little tighter. “Oh?”

Elide patted the pocket of her—Lorcan’s—jacket that held her phone. “I have photographic evidence that the mean, grumpy, brutish Lorcan Salvaterre,’ she paused dramatically, “smiles.”

He shook his head and laughed at her excited grin.

“Not only that,” she went on, “but proof that he had fun while looking at autumn leaves.” She gasped mockingly.

“Ha ha.” he deadpanned. “You’re hilarious.”

Her grin turned feline, and her eyes twinkled before she said, “You better beleaf it.”

His groan and her laughter echoed through the trees as they finally got back to their car.

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @themoonthestarsthesuriel @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @angelic-voice-1997 @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash @annejulianneh111

[foenixs]

Skz reaction to accidentally seeing a sext from one of their members s/o

note: this was inspired by one of @lavenderbexlatte 's posts

includes- sub!Stray Kids, dom!f!reader, strap on, pegging, lingerie, pet names

if you like my works please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bang Chan

He had only wanted to get back at Felix for the many times he stole his phone when unfortunate timing made a picture of you in a sexy lingerie piece pop up on screen.

Y/N: Don’t forget about me while you’re practicing 😉

He quickly shuts off the phone, handing it back to Felix and apologizing for having taken it. He tries to forget about the photo, watching porn and jerking off in the shower, but your body always comes back on his mind. He cums into his hand, moaning your name, quickly turning the power of the shower hose up to drown out the sounds.

He couldn’t look you in the eye for a month after the incident, worried he would undress you with his eyes.

Felix finally confronts him about his weird behaviour, since he used to be very good friends with you.

“Yeah, she can have that affect on you.”, Felix laughs when Chan admits to what had happened and how the image didn’t want to leave his head, “maybe you should join us sometime so you can see how much more beautiful she is in real life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minho

Jisung’s phone kept buzzing while Minho was trying to sleep, he tried to call for Sung to turn off his damn phone but to no effect. Getting up to take matters into his own hands, he picks up the phone to see who was texting him at such an early hour.

Noona: *dick pic*

Noona: How about this one?

Opening the quick answer function, he starts to type “you guys are weird…” when a thought comes to his mind. He deletes what he wrote, shutting the phone off like he was planning to, before taking out his own device. He searches for that secret picture he took last week, pressing send in your chat with a smirk across his face.

Minho: How about this one?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Changbin

Hyunjin was practicing a new choreo and had asked Chang to record him with his phone when a message popped up at the top of the screen. He tried to brush the pop-up window away but accidently opened the message instead.

He was greeted by a video clip of you stroking what looked like a silicone dick, strapped to your body. He was so enthralled by the visual, trying to figure out what you were grabbing onto, that he didn’t notice Hyunjin finishing the dance and walking towards him to take back his phone.

As soon as Hyunjin’s eyes fell upon the screen his face turned beat red, slapping the phone out of his hyung’s hand.

“What is that?”, Changbin’s genuine confusion was too cute, making Hyunjin proud that he seemed to be more mature than his hyung.

“Oh, just my dinner”, he winks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hyunjin

Never in a million years did he expect to see his hyung get fucked.

It was a simple mistake, he had taken the wrong phone home after a concert, but by the time he realised what he had done it was already too late.

He had saved his finger recognition in Minho’s phone before, more as a joke, but now that he had easily opened the phone, looking at the recent messages to see a video of Minho bent over a bed, getting fucked by his girlfriend, the reality hit him like a truck.

There was no way he could explain to Minho what had happened without getting his head chopped off, so he decided to lie.

“I accidentally took your phone instead of mine, but I realised my mistake instantly and came here to give it back to you.”

His arms were shaking as he handed back the phone, making Minho raise an eyebrow but he just quickly ran away, trying to delete the mental image as best as he could. But Minho wasn’t the only one that would remember the ‘Memories of last night’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisung

Mommy: How’s my Babyboy doing? If you come home for dinner, I’ll let you eat me for dessert.

The messages flickered on the screen, Jeongin’s phone resting on the table during one of their lives. Jisung quickly takes the phone, putting it in the maknaes Hoodie pocket so the viewers wouldn’t get the shock of their life’s. 

He couldn’t say he was surprised; he had once walked in on Jeongin masturbating in the shower, moaning out your title. If anything, he was a little jealous.

“You need to be more careful where you place your phone”, was all he said he to Jeongin after the live, trying to suppress a laugh as the maknae’s eyes shot wide open when he saw his recent messages.

“You- did you-…”

“Did I see your girlfriend sexting you? Nah, but you might want to hurry home 😉”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Felix

He had asked Chan for sex advice before, not wanting to mess up his first time, so he knew that his hyung wasn’t an innocent angel. But what he was greeted with on Chan’s screen when he stole his phone was different from anything they had ever talked about.

The older boy was tied to the bed, his legs pushed to his chest as his girlfriend was gliding a toy into him.

Felix could feel himself getting hard at the mere sight, one hand coming down to his ass to duplicate the feeling his hyung must’ve felt. He kept pressing play on the short video, needing to see it again and again.

He felt disgusted with himself that he was doing something so naughty and all behind his hyung’s back, but he couldn’t help the growing desire to be put in Chan’s place.

After handing back the phone, he patiently waited in the living room until Chan’s girlfriend came over later that day. Counting down in his head he made his way over to Chan’s room, bursting in in hopes of catching them in the middle of the act.

And so, a long night had begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seungmin

He dropped Changbin’s phone as quickly as he had picked it up, hands shooting up to his face to cover his blushing cheeks.

As Changbin walks back out of the bathroom, drying his hands against his jeans, he notices the curled-up figure that was hiding it’s face in shame.

“Uhm, Is everything okay Seungmin?”

But the younger boy quickly shakes his head, turning so it looked like he was getting swallowed by the couch.

A loud sigh makes Seungmin shiver in fear.

“Did you steal my phone again?”

Changbin had seen the seductive picture you had sent, putting together the puzzle’s pieces on why his usually chipper bandmate suddenly felt shy in front of him.

“At least you learned your lesson…” and with that he turned and left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeongin

Jealousy was the only thing that tainted his mind as your messages popped up on Seungmin’s screen. He had stolen the older boy’s phone to set a quirky selfie of himself as the background, when curiosity made him the messenger app.

Just a quick look, was what he had promised himself, but your seductive messages glued his eyes to the screen, unable to finish his original task.

Y/N: Is you tail still in place? You must’ve been blushing so hard during practice, having the tiny toy stretch you out in front of your unsuspecting bandmates.

Staring at Seungmin’s ass for the rest of the day his mouth was watering with drool, why couldn’t he be someone’s good puppy?!

Y/N: Be a good puppy and send me a picture of your pretty tail.

-

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masterlist

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taglist:  @vanillaknj, @mingiibabieee, @sub-hoshi-enthusiast, @soya-zz, @coeurbreak, @mellowriting, @submissive-bangtan

[francescameronwriter]

ScamNotSam

A few weeks ago I decided to play with a #scamnotsam  account AKA one of those fake Sam’s who try to friend and chat with fans. Well remarkably the story goes on and I've learned a lot about the scams being used.

To be absolutely clear, the images below are from a FAKE Sam.. not the real Sam and I am in no way implying he has anything to do with this. 

Fake Sam contacted me via Instagram. Now I knew straight away what the deal was, no blue check etc. But I  had nothing to do and figured while he was talking to me he wasn’t scamming someone who is perhaps more vulnerable. So I went along with it. Soon he had me move the conversation to Google Hangouts, I used a google account I keep purely for suspected spammers so no real info attached. I’ve started conversations with a few others since, they almost all want to move to Hangouts ASAP (they expect their Insta account to be reported and banned I guess), some are now trying to get you to move to use Telegram. I will never download Telegram it’s sketchy as hell and run by Russians.  

Fake Sam told me how he really valued his fans etc but his management ran his official SM accounts. He then asked questions, lots of them. Where do I live? What is my job? What company do I work for? Am I married? Have kids? Age? Where have I travelled? Do I have Pets?

I gave bogus info but realistic enough to keep him off the scent. Basically I reckon the info was needed either for identity fraud or password hacking.  I asked for a selfie, so I could be sure it was really him.

Within that same conversation he started telling me that he was feeling something for me and basically trying to play on my emotions. I went along, playing the adoring fan who'd always known she shared a special connection with him. 

I was waiting for the drop a few days in, surely he would ask for money? No this guy plays a long game. When the MPC Instagram account was hacked, he was just as upset as you might expect Sam to be. 

So, after a few days, to spice things up I challenged him, used something he said and told him it proved he was a fraud.  Told him how upset I was and what a bad person he was.

I was not ready for the response. 

I have to admit for a second my mind actually considered he could be the real thing. Why? He initiated a video call with me through Hangouts!!

I admit I panicked and declined but he persisted and when I accepted the call, there was Sam, looking hot as hell in a tank top at the gym. Yes my heart nearly stopped until I realised, he was talking but no sound, then 10 seconds later the call ended.

My logical brain kicked into gear immediately, what I had seen was a video Sam took back in 2019. I've since found it again to verify. This guy was good I had to give him that. How he made it look like a actual video call I don’t know... filming another screen showing the vid maybe?

So I pretended I was convinced, begged forgiveness and as he's such a kind soul I was forgiven. 

All the while he couldn’t share exactly where he was or what he was doing because his management forbade it. Just he was in NZ making MIK, which of course was readily available info on his real Insta account. After a few days of this he suddenly backed up, said he wanted to tell me everything about himself but was afraid of blackmail. His solution, we should do things formally and I was instructed to email his 'booking agent' and request a meet. 

So i used my fake account to email the address he gave and the response asked for my name, address, nearest airport and a copy of my photo id.  I gave fake info and bluffed that for various reasons I didn't currently have a photo id.  Fake Sam continued to message me. I've not had another email but he still messages and asks what I've heard. When Sam posted the picture standing in front of the Agave Fake Sam sent me the picture and told me he was in Mexico (doesn't understand concept of latergram). I'm now trying to convince him that I'll come to London and we can meet before the premiere. LOL suddenly he was busy and had to go... let's see what's next.

I fully expect the 'booking agent' to demand a fee eventually. Just wondering how long I can continue to counter-catfish this dude.  Lessons learned so far... they do some basic research into their character but anyone who knows more than the basics can easily catch them out. They are not afraid to mess with your feelings, the manipulation is very real.  They are after info and no doubt money too. I've seen a huge increase in fake Sams following my accounts in recent days. I’ve had  conversations with a few, most follow the same pattern. I’ve blocked and reported after a short spell though, just keeping this one guy on the hook. Be careful out there folks, it’s not just one scammer, one thing I noticed, they follow the same pattern but the way they speak/write English is very different. We all would love to talk with our favourite big Scottish guy but remember just a little info about you to the wrong person can do a LOT of damage.  I'll keep you posted.

[mxchellesworld]

Attraction and Repulsion 

Harry Styles x Reader

Synopsis; Where Harry is too much of an asshole for a proper relationship but too good in bed for you to leave 

Warnings; mean!harry, arguments, name calling, smut, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, impact play, choking, 

a/n; harry styles fans come get yall juice!! ok i wont lie this kinda seems all over the place but i like it anyways. hope yall enjoy and please send some feedback:)

***

You thought it was real funny. It was absolutely hilarious how the whole world saw Harry as a sweet lad who wears big trousers and has fun nails. But you saw him for who he really was. Harry Styles was mean. Plain and simple. 

But you loved it. 

And as much as you tried to deny it, you both knew it was true. You were like magnets. When you weren’t absolutely repulsed by one another, starting an argument, you were wrapped up in each others sheets feeling the strongest attraction you’d ever felt for another person. 

You were always stuck in a limbo of back and forth. Arguments and name calling over the phone leading to quick hang ups and the eventual knock on the door signaling he was there to deal with you the only way he knew how to put you in your place. 

You were drawn to him like a moth to flame. And just like you, he was also too stubborn to admit that he’d want anyone else but you. No matter how cocky he got flaunting the fact that he could get any person in the world with just a smile and wink, he knew he’d never actually do it. 

Under all the petty acts and insults there was the smallest bit of adoration he held for you and you only. 

_ 

You had been lounging around your apartment when your phone chimed. It was one of your girlfriends sending you a link to a newspaper article. You hadn’t bothered to look at the title on the message before clicking on it and seeing the large cover photo on your screen. 

Right there Harry and some model getting cozy after his last show. Big bold letters on the teen magazine reading ‘HARRY STYLES AND NEW BAE???’. You audibly scoffed. 

It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend so you couldn’t really do much about it, you thought ignoring the small sting in your chest. Shaking off the feeling you skimmed the rest of the article then replied to the message, “she is kinda hot, maybe he’ll give me her number lol” 

With that you threw your phone on the other side of the couch and started to get up. It was 3pm a little too early in your book to start drinking at home and especially too early to start letting him ruin your day. 

Maybe it was time to start looking at other people. You were hot and single, living in a big city with other hot singles, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone to get in a stable relationship with or at the bare minimum a good fuck for the night. 

So you did what anyone else does and picked up your phone once again, going straight to the app store. Right on the front page was tinder and just for good measure you added bumble. Making the accounts were easy enough but selecting the pictures for your profile was tricky. You wanted a good amount of selfies and body shots. Cute pictures but also something risky enough to catch the eye. 

Soon enough you were already swiping and giggling to yourself about the future prospects you had lined up. Meanwhile in a city about a few hundred miles from you Harry was sitting with a frown on his scowl on his face in the same predicament you were in earlier that day. 

He was in his hotel room packing up and getting ready to head back home when his phone chimed. He looked over to see if it was his manager or someone from crew with any updates on departure times however it was one of his close friends. 

At first he was expecting a sports update or an invitation to go to a bar when he got back but instead it was a screenshot of your tinder profile. When had you gotten that? he thought to himself. 

It wasn’t like he could get mad since he knew he didn’t treat you the best. But that was just your dynamic, deep down you both cared for each other and even then it made for the best sex of his life. 

Looking back down at the glowing screen he swiped through the few screenshots he was sent. Various pictures of you out with friends. The one that got him was a picture of you in the bathtub, your body was covered by the porcelain yet just enough of your chest just was showing in the mirror as you gave the camera your best sultry look. 

Yet the real kicker was the bio where you included him in your top artists. He scoffed and shook his head, biting his lip as he clicked out from the messages app. Instead he called up his manager to get him on the fastest plane back home. If the blood wasn’t rushing to his face he knew he’d be hard as a rock but for now he’d save that frustration for when he saw you. 

_

You knew tinder hookups were easy to get but you didn’t know just how easy. After spending the day scrolling away, putting your phone down for food and subtle chores you landed a ‘date’, which you really knew was ‘lets get tacos before we fuck on my couch’. 

You had planned to meet at 8pm at some restaurant by your house. At 6:30 you started to get ready slowly, taking your time in the shower, shaving, the works. You had your music connected to a speaker getting yourself excited for the night. 

Who wouldn’t be? You needed this. This was your time to get all dolled up and get to cum from someone other than yourself or the man who makes the vein in your forehead pop when you think about him. 

You put on your sweet smelling lotion and head to your closet looking for an outfit. It was starting to get warm so you settled for a black t-shirt dress that fell to mid thigh with tan heeled booties. You pulled out a jean jacket to put on top in case it was windy.

After finishing your hair and makeup, it was nearing 7:30 and you were back on your couch fixing up the pillows and picking up any misplaced items in case the night led you back to your place. Suddenly you heard a knock on your door, the same hard 3 rasps which only meant one person. 

Your heels clicked on the hard wood as you made your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it halfway, “What do you want Harold,” you said unamused. 

“You look pretty,” he said pushing past you, ignoring the annoyance in your tone. 

“Wish I could say the same about you. Now what do you want? I’m busy and I have to leave soon,” you said rolling your eyes. 

He took a seat on your previously neat couch, spreading his legs and putting his arms up on the back. The way he looked you up and down sent chills up your spine, “What did you get a date that quick? The internet works wonders doesn’t it love”, he said rolling his neck. 

“How did you know abo- actually I don’t care. As a matter of fact I do have a date and I’m meeting him soon so if you don’t mind leaving,” you said picking up your jacket and purse, “Why don’t you call that one girl from your show? She probably misses you.” 

He let out a short laugh before pushed on his knees to stand back up, “Ah I see what this is. You’re jealous and you think going on a little date with some nobody would hurt me.” The cockiness was just seeping out of him. 

“Pull your head out of your a-,” you started before he cut you off. 

“No no you’re gonna listen to me angel. We may not be together but you belong to me. No one else can ever touch you or fuck you as well as I can,” he said leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

It was almost sad how easily he could have you crumbling. Just then your phone dinged. It was a message from the guy, Danny? You couldn’t remember at this point. 

“Answer it sweatpea, tell him you can’t make it.” 

You were really debating it. On one side this could be your chance to finally tell Harry to fuck off but on the other you knew it would be hard to replace him and you weren’t even sure you completely wanted to. That was a whole other layer of emotions to dig through. 

You looked back up at Harry, one of his curls falling into his eyes which were filled with lust. The way his tongue peeked out to slip over his pink lips gave you the answer you needed. 

“Fuck,” you whispered unlocking your phone. Quickly you typed out a half ass apology about your sister needing you to babysit, even though she lived out of state, he didn’t need to know. 

After you hit send your phone was quickly plucked from your grasp and pushed into Harry’s pocket. You didn’t think much about it when his lips pressing onto yours was acting as a great distraction. 

He pulled away lightly mumbling a “taste like strawberries”. If you weren’t so turned on you would’ve giggled. 

You moaned into his mouth pulling him by his loose button up shirt into your bedroom. It was a routine you had almost perfected at this point with little stumbling or need to grab onto the walls as a guide to make sure neither of you hit any corners. 

Your lips never left each others in the feverish mess of kisses. Each one making you grow needier and needier. Your fingers worked quickly in trying to get the buttons on his shirt undone. You felt his warm ones wrap around yours halting your movements. 

“Not so fast, you think I’m gonna let you off easy for what you did today?” 

You huffed out, “You did the same-”, again he cut you off. 

“I get to do whatever I want because you know who I am,” he finished trailing his thumb over your bottom lip, slowly tugging it down. All you could do was nod. 

“Say it then.” 

“Harry Styles,” you whispered out. 

You could see his pupils get bigger with each syllable. It was his favorite thing, the power, the dominance. He got off on his own name. But so did you, the thought alone made you clench your thighs as you were in the moment. 

His hand came up and tapped on your cheek, a small implication of what you knew he could do, “You’re gonna have to be louder than that lovie. Don’t worry though I’ll let you try again later.”

He backed you up until your legs hit the bed, pushing you down. You slowly crawled back, pulling your jacket and dress off as he worked on his belt and pants. You made quick work of kicking off your boots and settled into the plush sheets. 

“Hurry up Styles. I think Danny could’ve made me cum at least twice now,” you said sliding a hand down to your panties. That move would bite you in the ass but the risk was worth it. 

You let out gasps at the touch of your fingertips, moving your hips, doing anything to put on a show and hopefully have him give you what you wanted quicker. 

He eagerly got on the bed, trapping you under his knees. His hands quickly ripped yours away from where you needed them most, pinning them over your head. He leaned down, face inches from yours until you shared the same breathe. 

“You just want to be punished don’t you? Don’t worry I’ll help you get it through that stupid little slutty brain of yours,” he finished with a sadistic smile. 

You nodded frantically moaning out pleases. His hand came down on your cheek, the chill of his rings pressed against the now warm skin on your face. His nails raked down until his hand was snuggly hugging your neck. 

You tilted your head back giving him more room to squeeze and mark as he pleased, “Please Harry, want you to fuck me already.” 

He tutted his lips giving your neck one last squeeze before he pulled away. “I think we should work on your patience,” he said moving down to your spread legs. 

His warm hands pulled on the lace fabric on your hips, scoffing at the visible wet patch, “Don’t tell me this was all for old Danny-boy.” 

“No Harry its all for you,” you mewled as he let his fingers swipe through your folds. It was evil how he was leisurely propped up between your legs teasingly circling your aching bud, switching between blowing on it and nipping at it. 

You already felt the tears springing in the corners of your eyes. So little was doing so much. Just a little more and you could cum right then and there. And he knew it too. 

“Oh you better not cum. I’m not gonna be very forgiving if you do,” he trailed off almost laughing. He never let up, quick circles on your bud making your body tense up. 

“Ple- no.. oh god Harry,” you whined out. You felt your juices gushing out of you as you reached your peak. He never let up on his motions, going even faster on your overstimulated clit. 

“God you’re so pathetic. Such a whore you just had to cum,” he punctuated with a slap right on your pussy. 

At this point you were sobbing. Your head was swimming in the pleasure. You tried to apologize but the words weren’t coming together, just broken whimpers and mixes of sorry’s. 

His hand came down on your sensitive cunt two more times, each one had you trying to close your legs but he was quick to keep them open with a bruising grip. 

“Please.. Harry.”

“Please what?” he said taking in your shivering frame.

“Please fuck me! Want you to cum inside me, mark me so everyone knows i’m yours!” you spoke out breathlessly.

Quickly he flipped your over, pulling your hips up so that your pussy was on display for him. He groaned as he swiped the tip of his weeping pink cock over your already puffy folds.

With a long stroke he filled you completely. Your nerves were on fire and he hadn’t even started. His rough hands grabbed onto your hips for leverage on his thrusts.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Such a good little whore just for me to ruin,” he gritted out. He kept a steady pace, quick and deep making sure to hit your sweet spot each time.

Your nails were digging into the pillows for dear life. Eyes shut closed as your mouth fell in silent screams and jumbled phrases of pleasure. The only thing on your mind was HarryHarryHarry.

“Wanna cum again.. oh my god.. Plesse Harry fill me up! I need to feel it,” you said arching your back further. You felt each vein slide along your spongy walls making sure to clench around him and milk him for all he was worth.

His grip on your never let up. He let his hand come down on your ass cheek. Once again the rings contrasting the heat radiating off of you, “That’s it cum for me baby. I want you to scream my name when you do. Can you do that love? Shit , tell me who fucks you this good? Who’s cum do you want spilling inside you?”

You all but screamed a “Harry Styles” letting your neighbors know just who was with you that night, nights before, and nights to come.

The sweet noises and screams of his name had Harry’s cock pulsing inside you, ready to burst at any moment.

One look down at where you connected and he was sent right to heaven. Your cute little pussy creaming right on his cock had him shooting his load deep inside you.

You both gasped and groaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim. He stilled his motions and you all but collapsed onto your bed.

You felt him lean down once again, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear before whispering, “You think Danny could’ve done that?”

[stargirlwnchstr]

I have a visual to share with y'all. Say welcome to my long ass 'The Foxes + tiktok' headcanon

@ nickythefox_es (part 1???)

Basically Nicky gets tiktok but all of the foxes show up eventually and just use his profile.

• Most of the videos are with nicky and allison, also matt and dan and occasionally neil.

• Allison and nicky learn so many dances.

• Their duet of make his pockets hurt with Mariah and Zane from the vlog squad is the first one to go v i r a l.

• Yeah most of their followers know them but some and a lot of the comments are non exy fans that just watch them because they're cool

• So many of the "what is exy" "stickball game??" "dont even bother explaining to me what is the sport they play I dont care I'm just here for neil." And related comments get a liked from creator (andrew told nicky to like them)

•The "Oh my god she's coming." "I'm so afraid of her." Audio are the twinyards and nicky shows up, he had to bribe them to be a part of that one.

• They post another version but it's Kevin that enters and Allison and Nicky talking

• So many comments thirsting over them and calling matt and dan parents

• "the real bisexual struggle is simping for matt and dan in the same tiktok." -> liked from creator nickythefox_es commented/replied: ASDGFKSSDWADKWB

• Someone makes a 'put a finger down: Neil Josten edition' and nicky drags him to do it. They both smile as they listen to the prompts and Neil obviously puts all his fingers down but they're like "put a finger down if you clapbacked/if you bad mouthed someone (bonus points if it was on national tv)" "put a finger down if you're under 6 feet" "put a finger down if you love exy" and the last one just says "put a finger down if andrew minyard." Neil does and smiles at someone off camera. Needless to say it goes viral as well. A few weeks after nicky gets verified.

• Allison becomes friends with thenavarose and wisdom sorry I dont make the rules (they're fashion tiktokers)

• They make a series of rating each of the foxes throughout the day, including one of Wymack.

• They do receive bad comments, from bitter ravens fans or just recalling their pasts and nicky sits down and makes a video telling everyone about how they do this videos for fun they dont need hate and negative comments on their videos and all that

• Then another one posted minutes after, neil comes in and nicky says "okay neil you have one minute. Rant off." And neil goes on this rant like how they already hit Rock bottom a single comment is not gonna hurt them and "do you get how insignificant and meaningless your lives must be? You took the time to write and post a comment that you thought was gonna cause an impact and failed. Also thanks for the comments though it helps nicky stay on the algorithm." NICKY SCREECHES AND THE VIDEO ENDS WITH THEM SMILING

• Allison vlogs neil and her going shopping or thrifting also cutting Neil's hair

• *neil walks into the room wearing his orange bandana* *camera moves and zooms on Andrew's face* he doesnt lip sync but the song sings "oh noo I think I'm catching feelings" andrew tells him to delete it "but it already has thousands of likes andrew"

• They post some of their work out routines per request

• One of them is the fast and "I'm spinning like a ballerina" chill of neil just running on the treadmill and doing sprints and squats and leg stuff while it cuts to allison doing a bit of everything but looking like a queen on a matching set.

• A fun one that goes viral for "vine energy" is: it's very quiet on the court and Kevin, very in the zone, throws the ball to the goal, which Andre's catches easily and almost without moving. The camera goes back to kevin as he screeches and let's himself fall on the ground. Neil is standing beside him shaking his head and looking at the goal with a smile on his face.

• They try to teach neil the dances but while filming one of them he just leaves. They post it either way.

• They're in the bus, nicky is on selfie mode and says "it is game day my dudes" he turns and shows the whole bus S C R E A M S, in the corner Wymack is covering his face.

• The iconic "they say drunk thoughts are sober words" or something like that and it cuts to a series of videos of the foxes drunk af. Example: Nicky grabbing Allison's face and saying 'Remember. Bread. Head. Leave.' And allison nodding.

• Nicky films kevin standing up and put the "do you ever wonder what is going on inside their head?" And it cuts to pictures of racquets and exy and Jeremy Knox and one that says history stuff.

• Another one that goes viral is kevin very seriously and p e r f o r m i n g, rapping Jefferson's side of the cabinet battle #1 from Hamilton then towards the end andrew stands up in front of him and with his iconic bored expression he starts rapping Hamilton's part. Behind the camera there's a soft "...oh my gOD" and kevin is shocked eyes widen open and then the camera zooms on Neil who's mouth is open in shock but GRINNING and ~impressed~

• Dan and matt do The challenge, you know the one that like has to flip them over and all that and they ace it, nicky points the camera to where andrew and neil are stating and Andrew says no.

• A few minutes later another video of the challenge is posted only this time is matt and neil.

• Nicky and allison are in full gear filming a dance video (maybe savage or captain hook) on the court and someone films them filming that and then Wymack looking at them SO disappointed cut to Wymack with nicky's phone, having confiscated it and nicky besides him "coach, it's cardio!"

• Hours spent trying trick shots

• Foxes: "get back! Move!" Ravens: "Let me in! I be the I g g y!" Trojans: "Oh my God do no let her in" Foxes: "I am trying!"

• Nicky lying down: "okay but someone needs to tell me how old is the shirtless pottery guy. I can't be part of another controversy. It's for science c'mon. *debby Ryan's*"

• Someone comments "he's eighteen. Simp away, nicky." And he makes a video with his feet swinging and smiling. Aaron gets on the frame and says "we are deeply in need of some bowls." The caption: hi @ papapots

• They are verified so obviously he gains a couple of thousands followers and he duets smiling and with a package in his arms. Text: thanks for the support (and hi new followers from sport side of tiktok hope you enjoy my pots) caption: hi @ nickthefox_es I got you aaron.

• After the package comes they duet it with nicky screaming and showing off the goods and then he moves stop show andrew eating ice cream out of one of them. Caption: AJSNEPWLDKSS THANK YOU DAX

• Allison and nicky do the "I love you!" "No you dont topper! You love the idea of me. You love being seen with me but you dont love me." But nicky is Sarah and allison is topper. Next day the obx ig page reposted it "we stan the psu foxes pogues for life." And chase stokes posts it on Twitter saying "yoo the palmetto foxes watch??? my show???" Nicky takes a screenshot and on green screen he says "hi chase!! We do! The whole team binged it. Currently we've been debating who of us is going to dress up as pogues for Halloween." A lot of voices start arguing and as nicky is gonna enter the debate the video cuts.

• Allison does the facetime *deep male voice says hey* prank on them. Neil doesnt react. Nicky doesnt look up from his phone but does the finger thing and says "get that d, allison!" Dan and renee look at each other and then at allison and she bursts out laughing.

• aaron studying to be a doctor: *two plus two is four etc sound* andrew (eating pretzels from the bag while watching a game show lying down in a bean bag) and his eiditic memory [basically not needing to study]: *three is a magic number sound*

• Nicky runs through the court and enters the lounge beside the photo wall there's a poster he shows the camera as the sounds says it "alive ahaha fuck"

• Somehow they convince all of them to show up and do the wipe it down trend that ends up with wymack throwing the towel at the mirror.

• Comment: so how many members of the team listen to girl in red or sweater weather? Nicky stands there with the color filter: 👁👄👁👉👈 caption: yes❤

• He gets neil to duet to the whole "british people be like". "Neil I'm not british." "Part of you is so just read the tweets." He does and the comments are all thirst and simping

• Comment: raise your hand if you've been victimized by neil josten. Where my fellow Simps at? (The comment gets hundreds of thousands of likes) they make a video, everyone on the team except aaron who walks out raises their hand as the sound says "welcome to simp nation" kevin rolls his eyes but raises his, says something that nicky captions "i simp over his exy skills". andrew doesn't at first, but next to him neil whispers something and after andrew says yes, neil grabs Andrew's forearm and raises it. Andrew looks away and neil smiles.

• Nicky lying down: okay but what if Jean moreau traded places with the french guy from here you know who, david.

• Comment "ugh your mind nicky" reply video: right? Big brain, many thoughts, head full all the time. But like actually the idea of david playing exy and Jean hanging out with ducks and making viral tiktoks just-

• Comment "i feel you and @ austincantdrive would make the best chaotic duo" reply: we would be too powerful together. Austin replies too: agree.

• Allison makes a sports jersey/comfy wear but make it fashion and she styles herself. Everyone on the comments d i e s for her.

• Comment "okay but what about the boys. help allison." She makes a video too with matt and nicky and at the end neil wears an orange crop top and the internet b r e a k s

• Comment "allison do you listen to girl in red?" video reply: her winking at the camera and lip syncing as sweater weather plays. The comments a lot of them liked by creator: a win for the girls (and the boys)

• Upperclassmen Back in 2003: okay but hey do we always have to be involved? Can we do normal stuff that normal people do, like, go for brunch? Us (aaron, andrew, kevin and me): what the fuck is brunch?

• Of course they do the mr blue sky trend. Nicky: drunkenly goes to flirt with a guy. Aaron: drunkenly follows to get away from kevin. Kevin: drunk on pure vodka reminds us we have practice in the morning.

• Or another one all of them. Neil: ready to insult a reporter. Dan: tries not to laugh on camera. Matt: gets ready to hug him afterwards Allison and Nicky: Filming everything. Wymack: the only one trying to stop it from happening and failing.

• Dan and matt duet their reactions to every video edit of them, smiling and saying "your parents love you guys!".

• Comment "literally what is wrong with the ravens/ravens fans?The foxes are such a nice group of people and they're doing great in the sport y'all worship just shut up you cult-y athletic hype house." video reply: "ladies and gentlemen. The volume inside of this bus is A S T R O N O M I C A L."

• comment video reply: okay so we're not gonna talk about nicky at the gym?? Bc C A K E. nicky lip syncing "I'm glad you brung it up because I've been dying to talk about this for a fucking hot minute. First of all-"

• Colin uses one of Neil's or Andrew's interviews replies as one of his sounds and nicky fanboys a lot

• Allison and nicky do the Kardashian sound compilation.

• Nicky with a picture of Erik on green screen: "hi I just wanna say if you look anything like this please contact me. Thank you." Caption: miss u baby. And Erik watches his tiktoks and he facetimes him immediately. Nicky takes a screenshot and duets his own video crying with the screenshot caption: SKALSBSKAJSL Erik comments: stop making tiktoks and answer the phone, hemmick. Nicky replies: yessir everyone below comments keyboard smashes and you got a good one. Goals. Lmao kids that's what we call bottom panic. We stan one healthy long distance relationship and after that a bunch of long distance relationship questions that he makes another video on.

• A video of Katelyn and neil chatting and it pans to the twins watching them with the *when worlds collide sound*

• He reposts a snippet of one of his interviews post game where he grabs the mic from the reporter and nicky: can I say something? Reporter: sure, go ahead. Nicky: thank you. *looks straight into the camera* all the birds died in 1986 due to Reagan killing them and replacing them with spies that are now watching us. The birds work for the bourgeoisie. Thank you." And leaves. IT GOES VIRAL INSTANTLY.

• Comment "is everyone else gonna forget that tiktok where he said he was already part of a controversy? We stan a problematic icon?" Video reply: guys I might have been part of a whole Twitter beef thing against my little hoodie and Bruce hallway but c'mon, like, c'mon you can't blame me.

• Comment "for neil: does the carpet match the drapes 👅😍?" Video reply: neil on selfie mode. "Allison gave me her phone, told me to answer this and ran away so umm." He reads the box on the screen and frowns he walks and stands next to the window, where Andrew is sitting down and is barely seen on frame. "uhmm, the internet is confusing. Our carpet is like this" he turns the phone and shows the floor (grayish carpet) and then back at him "but we don't have drapes so, technically they don't match, I dont know." Andrew's head goes up and simply says "Neil." Neil turns "what?" And the video ends.

• of course nicky and allison do the WAP dance, on the court, when they should be running drills.

[aio-rya]

Tower of Terror Headcanons

『Anon says: Can I ask for some fluffy headcanons for Silver, Vil, Cater, and Jack being convinced to go on the Tower of Terror by their fem s/o please?』

・"A... A spooky ride?", he will ask as you drag him to the outside of the Twilight Zone. The sun was setting on the horizon, giving a truly mysterious aura to the peach-colored building; fortunately for you, there were just a few people approaching to the entrance, the line must have been very short too.

・You stopped right outside of the building and looked at the aurora eyed boy. He was frowning as he analysed the construction in front of you, from top to bottom; he was just about to refuse, in fact not because of he was scared at all but it was getting dark, it was late and you must look for Lilia and the group, but when he saw your puppy eyes, well...

・He was hugging you from behind, his arms around your shoulders as you both entered to the pre-show room. You were excited, listening to the mysterious voice of the speakers and watching the lights going on and off when you felt an increase on the weight over your shoulders, you turned your head and realised he had fall asleep —with a tender smile, you shook Silver's arms to awake him again avoiding to startle him.

・During the walk over the line to enter the main attraction, you both tried to talk a bit to keep him awake; sometimes you ran to the handrail and leaned forward to look down, to the machinery stuff that decorated the enormous hall. That was when Silver's heart almost jumped out of his chest —you may fall and get hurt, so he ran to hold you against his chest and didn't let you go until you both arrived to the lift door. You smirked; now he was more than awake.

・At first, he took it as an easy matter as the very beginning of the ride was relatively calm, just a deep voice telling a horror story as you abruptly stopped in front of a room... Or what apparently was a screen, he thought. Then, he truly got startled when the ride started once more and you all, everyone in the car, screamed.

・"Bad idea", he thought at first, he wasn't used to that kind of sudden changes. But when he saw you were not screaming in fear or pain, he could finally relax; he held your hand as you laughed and hugged his arm, when the ride had small pauses, you even gave him one or two kisses on the cheek. He enjoyed not only the ride but your company.

・You got out of there smiling, he giggled as he heard your voice making a recap on your favourite moments of the ride —that was the moment when he realised it was the best idea you could have had. He placed his arm around your waist and continued walking by your side.

・Night had already fallen over the sky as you walked by, holding hands, surrounded by the few people that wandered around looking for the last ride of the day. It was more comfortable than noon, since the darkness only broke by the few lampposts wouldn't allow almost anyone to recognise him —which meant he wouldn't need the hat and the sunglasses anymore.

・Where were you bringing him... Hotel Hightower, wasn't it? As far as he knew, that specific attraction had a different story from the other parks; of course, he could have asked Adela to make some research but what would be the pleasure on being prepared for the unexpected? He will just walk by your side, sharing the enigmatic aura with you.

・You both scanned your bracelets and a young boy on the entrance greeted you, signaling the way getting suddenly petrified —his jaw fell and his eyes were wide open when he realised that he was, actually, talking to the Vil Schoenheit himself. Your blonde boyfriend took a finger to his lips as he made a silent "Shhh~" and winked to the excited boy.

・With a smile, he accepted your hugs and pampers while you made the tour of the inside of the tower, occasionally stopping you from messing his hair too much and fixing your clothes —you laughed, what would he do if he knew what's waiting for him next?

・"This is not possi-BLEEEE!!", he screamed at you after the very beginning of the ride, being interrupted by the second and longest ride. His hair became a mess, his shirt wrinkled, he started to sweat and you bursted in laugh between the screams, sometimes letting go of the handrail, sometimes teasing him until he joined your cheerfulness.

・Not necessary to say how he complained about how you didn't advertised him about the attraction —yes, he loved speed ridings but you could have told him first so he could have tied his hair and fold his sleeves a bit. He was so immersed on his lecture until he realised you were actually making fun of him right on his face.

・"You are a very bad potato", he warned in dangerous voice. That was the signal; in the blink of an eye you were sprinting to get as far as possible from him and he was of course, chasing you; both of you laughing as you made your way out of the park. In the end, he caught you and messed up your hair, took a pic as his payback and kissed you.

・He has been enthusiastically following you all the evening, taking photos of the entire place, posting a couple of selfies when you made sudden stops to buy some food, candies or at any souvenirs store of your interest. Dawn reached you and a brilliant idea popped in your head: The Twilight Zone —he bend under curiosity, following you trying to remember that name.

・"Please, please, please. Where are you taking me this time, my beloved Jewel?", in response you just laughed and made him run faster. He stopped asking when he realised you meant the infamous Tower of Terror building, the hotel ride where you'd be up to lose your heart —not literally, though he was truly scared. He was the type of being scared by stories, not the guy of scary stories.

・He practically stopped you at each turn on the line, trying to delay you as much as possible to get the line full so you could desperate and leave. You were aware of his purpose but that was not stopping you anyway; you promised, swore him it wouldn't be that bad and that you'll be there to make of it an enjoyable experience.

・His body was stiff, even when you tangled your fingers with his he couldn't relax! So, with the sudden first movement, you heard loud and clear Cater's scream —he froze when you stopped again and you swear to god you thought you had killed him from the impression. Great was your surprise when he started laughing.

・The whole way he was laughing, screaming, shaking your arms as he pointed out to the holographic , he even let go of the handrail! "Look, look over there!" and "This is amazing!" was everything you could hear him saying —and for real, he was having the time of his life; to be honest, you enjoyed most his happiness than the ride.

・When it finished and you were supposed to get down of the lift, he was reluctant to leave! He begged to get another ride and he was so convincing that everything you could do was kissing his cheek, clinging onto his arm and letting Cater drag you this time.

・There you were, when the sky was already dark and the lights on the avenue were on, walking to the main entrance of the building once more while Cater, enthusiastically, spoke about recording the ride. Filling your face on kisses and thanking you for taking the fear away from him.

・The best part of it was that the entire visit was a surprise. Jack wasn't convinced at all when he arrived with you at the park but withiia few hours and a couple of rides and eating some hamburgers, he gave in. That was your signal~ it was time to take him to the ride you've always wanted to take.

・His tail swung furiously and his ears moved from one side to the other, trying to decipher where we're you dragging him again —because you were literally dragging him from an arm, in calm voice repeating "it's a surprise" as an answer to his multiple questionings.

・You had barely stepped inside the building when his ears twitched and his instinct felt danger around the corner. He got nervous as you both got near the lift, it's enough to say that he didn't even pay attention during the introduction to the ride. So, great was his surprise when the young lady greeted you all with a "Welcome, once again, to the Twilight Zone".

・«That's why they were so cheerful...», he thought when he finally understood the mischievous insistance of Ruggie and Leona about letting you guide him through the park. His senses were taken to the edge when he felt the sudden movement; it was not the big deal for him, at least not with the common rides which had not flashy lights and sudden sounds.

・You started to laugh when you realised his hair was bristled and his tail had just, unconsciously, tangled around your waist. You felt a bit guilty for giving him such an impression so you tenderly held his hand and started caressing the back of it to calm him down.

・It worked perfectly as you got down the ride and he was laughing, a bit blushed by the thought of being transparent enough with you to make you getting concerned about the fear or panic he could've felt. "It was not that bad, puppy~", you teased since he hated with his soul that nickname —goodbye to your good boy.

・"Let me go!", you were, both, laughing and screaming as he lifted you and started walking to the kid's zone, threatening you with taking you to one of the slower and boring rides you could think of. He was simply adorable, and the dawn gave you the perfect romantic atmosphere to tease him once again and again.

[santigarcia]

Phone 📲

Human Touch Part Two

a nathan bateman x f!reader series

Part One 

word count: 2.9k

rating: M/E for sexual themes, smut (pls only read if youre 18+)

summary: You send Nathan accidental nudes and that turns into something else...

a/n: thank you so much for the response from part one!! be sure to read that one before this one!! and as always thank you to @punkpascal and @sergeantkane for making this moodboard for me! let me know what yall think!

That morning when you wake up there’s a stack of paper, your phone, and a breakfast tray on the table in your room. You didn’t even hear Kyoko come in. You can only assume Nathan is working, and you don’t want to bother him this early.

You still can’t believe last night was even real. Even when you wake up it takes you a moment to remember where you are.

With a stretch and a sigh, you climb out of bed. You reach for your phone immediately and see a text from Nathan on the home screen. He put his number in your phone and you flush at the mere thought of having a text relationship with him.

The text from him says that he is working, but you’re welcome to come ask him any questions you may have about the thesis. That’s what’s on the table. It’s a heavy stack of paper. The text also tells you that you don’t have to read the entire thing, but enough to see if any of it makes sense.

You’ll read in a moment, first you want to eat some of that breakfast. It’s an assortment of fruit and oatmeal. There’s also some toast and a glass of milk, water, and orange juice. It’s all so good and you’re happy to eat something so fresh.

You also notice nearby is a stack of your clothes from yesterday, they’ve been washed and dried. You get up to pull on your underwear only, you like feeling Nathan’s shirt on your skin.

Once you’ve finished eating, you reach for the papers. You begin to thumb through them and it’s almost impossible to read. Hardly any of it makes sense to you, and you don’t know if you should feel dumb that he thinks you could read it, or dumb that he’s so smart to write something of this scale.

A text alert causes you to jump while you’re deep in this thesis. It’s from your cousin.

‘Where are you?’

‘You’ll never guess! I’m a Nathan Bateman’s!’

You text back and forth for a while. You catch her up on all that’s happened in the last few hours. You stop texting her to take a couple selfies showing her where you are. You playfully take a couple nudes; you lift his shirt and take some aesthetic looking photos of yourself.

You send one of the normal selfies to her. But then joke that you took nudes.

‘You should send them to him!’ she teased back.

You’re about to send her another photo when Nathan texts you and ask how it’s going. But you don’t register it’s from him and before you know if you’ve sent him one of your nudes.

You drop your phone in a panic and burst out the door. You have no idea where he even is, but you bolt down the hall to find him. You remember him pointing out his work area on the tour last night.

You turn the corner quickly and see him sitting quietly at his desk. There are several screens in front of him, and behind that is a wall covered in sticky notes.

He glances up at you, but you can’t tell if he saw it or not. His expression is blank. He seems confused now that you’ve sprinted into his office.

“Something wrong?”

“Please tell me you didn’t look at them.”

A slow smirk appears on his face. He saw it.

“So… who was that meant for if not me?” he scoots back in his chair to look at you better.

“Look, I was sending it to my friend to uh, hype me up. And I accidentally sent it to you.” Your heart is pounding in your chest. From the running, but also the thought of him seeing the photo. Ok yes, he saw you naked yesterday, but not like THIS. “Did you look at it?”

“Of course, I looked,” he shrugs and licks his lips. “And I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. But I kinda get the feeling you wanna hear my thoughts,” his smirk is plastered to his face.

“Just tell me, you're dying to say something. You have been since you saw me last night,” you blush hard.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous and I’d kill to touch your tits,” he states without so much as blinking. “But hey, it’s fine,” another shrug. “We can forget about this. No harm done.” He rolls back up to his screens.

“Wait,” you speak up, and he turns to face you again. You sigh heavily before you speak again, “ok so the picture was for you, sort of. I wanted to send it to you whenever I got the guts to make a move. So, I sent them to my friend to get her opinion, but I sent it to you instead by mistake.”

He sits quietly, his mouth quirks up in a soft smile.

“Is that you making the first move?” he asks referring to the ‘conversation’ last night.

You nod, biting your lip.

“Alright then,” he stands and cracks his neck.

“Right now?”

“Why not? You got somewhere you’d rather be?”

“I suppose now is the time I tell you that I'm, uh…. virgin,” you look down at your feet.

His expression softens and he takes a few steps forward. He puts a warm hand on your neck, just under your jaw and ear, “I’ve got you, okay? We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, but if you are… I’ll take good care of you. I promise.”

He lowers his hand to your hip, and it all comes spilling out. “I want this. I want you. You’ll just have to show me how.” You blink at him, “you really liked my tits?”

He brushes his thumb along your hip, his skin burns through the fabric of his shirt.

“I wouldn’t waste my breath on it if I didn’t,” he leans closer to you. His body heat warms you in an entirely different way than last night. “Is my room ok?” he whispers. All you can do is nod, but you smile. He does too and grabs your hand.

“I can't believe that one picture of me did all this,” you lean into his shoulder as you walk over to his bedroom.

“Yeah? Well, you have some pretty powerful tits,” he chuckles. “Right in here,” his hand moves to your lower back pointing you towards his room.

“Look,” you start to talk while he sits down on the bed. He’s watching your every move. You know he knows you’re nervous. “I know this is probably going to be meaningless sex to you, but it’s not to me ok?”

“Kitten,” he frowns, “this is not meaningless to me. I told you last night, you’re exactly my fuckin’ type and I’d be a dumbass if I let you go. I mean if you want to leave, Kyoko will show you the door.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Really. I wanna get to know you. Every bit of you.”

“So, we’re starting with sex first,” you bite your lip, and he shrugs.

“What better way to get acquainted?”

“We haven’t even kissed yet…”

“You have to come closer if you want me to touch you, kitten.”

Each step closer to him makes your knees shake. You come to stand in between his spread legs and his hands grab your lower back. He pulls you onto his lap and goes right for your lips. His tongue slips between your lips and you moan. You grind yourself down on him and feel him harden between your legs and you gasp.

“Sure, you’ve never done this before?” he murmurs into your neck. “I got you,” he reminds you.

“Don’t say you won’t bite unless I want you to. Because I do. I do want you to,” you whine a little.

“Noted.”

He nibbles under your ear gently and you squeak. He squeezes you tighter and chuckles, his grip is tight.

“We need to get you out of those clothes,” he repeats his phrase from last night. This time it’s even scarier, but more exciting. He tugs on the hem of your shirt asking permission, which you give. He peels off the shirt revealing your bare chest underneath.

You wriggle under his gaze as his eyes rake over your body. You can feel him growing harder still beneath you.

“Please say something,” you whisper.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I wanna…,” he clears his throat, “can I touch you, baby?”

You nod and his thumbs brush against your nipples first. His touch is soft, he traces all around your breasts with his fingers. Then he palms your breasts and squeezes. He bounces them, feeling the weight in his strong hands.

“Kitten,” he mouths at your neck. “I haven’t seen an actual person in months, and I haven’t touched a woman in well over a year. You’re gonna kill me.”

“In a good way I hope?” you moan a little. “Because you’re killing me.”

“Good?” he asks squeezing a little harder. “Fuck… fucking perfect. You seriously have the best tits I’ve ever seen, baby.”

When he lowers his head to your nipple, that’s when you really cry out. He hums happily and sucks harder. You buck your hips and he only seems to encourage it. He likes you wanting him. And he needs you, you can feel his need.

His beard brushes against your soft flesh and you shudder. He files that away with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Nathan-“ you whine. “Please.”

“Please what kitten? Use your words baby.”

“Lay me down?” you writhe again in his lap.

“Good girl.” He pats your ass and stands with your legs wrapped around him. He lays you down, then spreads his body on top of yours. He kisses your lips over and over. He thrusts himself onto your thigh and groans into your cheek. “Are you real?” he sighs happily with a soft groan.

“I keep asking myself that,” you laugh.

He chuckles deep in his chest and sits up, pulling off his shirt. You reach for him right away and he shivers under your hands.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, tracing his skin. He’s toned, but still has a softness to him. It’s perfect. And he’s warm, so warm.

He moves down between your legs, giving you another look asking for permission. You hesitate this time, and he waits patiently for you to nod. He doesn’t budge until you do.

His fingers dance along the hem of your panties and he slides them down. He whistles softly when he sees you’re wet and needy for him.

“All that for me, kitten?” he looks up at you. He leans up to kiss your lips and he murmurs against you again. “You ever use that vibrator and think about me? Want me to go get it? Let me make your fantasies real kitten.”

You can only blink at him and you open your mouth trying to speak.

“Baby, I can’t make your dreams come true if you don’t open that pretty mouth,” he chuckles. “Where do you want me? C’mon. It’s just me, no need to be shy.”

“But- you’re you!” you laugh. “Just, please, touch me.” You grab his hand and guide him to touch between your legs. “I want you here.”

“Good girl,” he praises again and kisses your hip. He slips a finger inside with ease and he delights in that. His thumb brushes your clit and when you shiver, he smirks. He knows he’s on the right track with you. “Can I add another?” he asks.

“Please!” you cry, and he obliges. The second finger is a pinch, but a welcome one. His thumb presses harder on your clit and rubs in tight circles.

“Feel good?” he asks though he knows the answer. He can read your body like all the code he works on. You clench around him, and he continues his touch. His fingers curl deep inside and you let out a loud moan. “There it is,” he hums and kisses your thigh. “You’re doing so good, kitten.”

You moan his name when you find your release, and he works you through it. His voice is soft but commanding and full of praises.

“You did so good baby. So, so good. Ready for more?”

“Please,” you buck your hips up. “Can I touch you?”

He climbs off the bed to pull off his shorts, his hard dick springs free. He pumps himself a few times and sits down next to you on the bed.

“Have you ever touched one before?” he asks, there’s no jest in his tone but he really, really is turned on that his dick is going to be the first one you’ve touched. And he wants to hear you say it.

“No,” you reach for him and he puts your hand on him.

“The tip is the most sensitive part,” he breathes, your hand already feeling good. “Fuck, yeah just like that.”

“You’re…big. Are you going to fit?”

He wants to moan, but he holds back. He’s so turned on from your shyness.

“I’ll fit kitten,” he chuckles warmly. “Fuck, squeeze harder-“

You squeeze him and enjoy the warmth and weight of him in your hand. He looks perfect, just like you imagined he would.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes what?” he chokes out a gasp and pushes you off him.

“Yes, I used my vibrator and thought about you.”

“Thought so,” he winks and positions himself between your legs. “You ready for me? I’ll go slow.”

“Wait-“ you stop him before he does anything else. He pauses, he’s about to ask if you want to stop when you gently pull off his glasses. You get a better look at his soft brown eyes, and he seems almost shy when you look at him. He clears this throat. He reaches for your hands; he pins your wrists above your head and kisses you deeply while he pushes inside slowly. You moan together and he checks your face for any pain or apprehension. Your eyes are closed, and your mouth is open, and he hums kissing your cheeks.

“You with me kitten?”

“Push in more,” you gasp, and he chuckles darkly doing as you ask. He shudders, your warmth feels so good to him. He buries his face in your neck and tells you so.

“You have the best pussy,” he grunts as he pushes in all the way.

“You better not just be saying that” you gasp.

“Kitten, are you ever going to believe me when I say I don’t mince words? I mean what I fuckin’ say,” he purrs. He’s straining, he wants to move so badly. “Please, kitten- tell me how you feel. Use those words baby.”

“It’s good, it’s so good. Tight. But, oh shit, please- move.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He lets go of your hands and he starts to move. You grab his head and hold on for dear life while he snaps his hips into yours. You know he’s still holding back and if you told him to, he’d unleash his full power on you.

You wrap your legs around him, and while the feeling of him is new and foreign it feels good. There’s a dull ache, but it’s wonderful. Wonderful because it’s him.

“Nathan,” you moan, “let go. Manhandle me. Fuck me hard.”

He makes a strangled sound between a gasp and a laugh and starts to push into you hard. He holds your body close to his and he sits up, pushing deep into you. His face buries into your tits and he moans, he fucking moans into your skin.

You reach between your bodies to touch yourself, but he shoves your hand away. He rubs you tight until you’re clenching around him. You’re both covered in sweat and breathing heavily when he nears his end.

“Fuck, fuck. Where do you want me to come? Tell me now,” he growls. His thrusts are sloppy, his dick jumps inside you and he squeezes you tight.

“In me,” you moan, and no sooner did the words leave your lips did he spill himself inside of you.

“Holy fucking shit,” he sighs with a soft laugh. He cradles your head and lays you back down. He pulls out with a shudder as he kisses your forehead. “Fuck that was amazing. You were amazing.”

“I feel amazing,” you look up at him. Your body is humming.

“Can I run you a bath?”

“Will you join me?”

“Well, that was the plan…”

You shove his chest playfully. “Your thesis sucks by the way.”

“Ouch!” he puts his hand over his heart.

“I didn’t understand any of it!”

“I didn’t think you would. Really it was just an excuse for you to stay a little longer.”

Oh.

OH.

“Well why didn’t you just say so?” you smile warmly.

“Cuz I’m a dumbass when it comes to women.” He gives you a genuine smile.  “And I didn’t want to scare you anymore than you already were last night. I wanted you to want to come to me on your own terms. And I knew that if you didn’t understand the thesis that meant you really are here for me. And not my secrets.”

“So why did you give me the money?”

“Wanted to.”

“What am I going to do with you?” you laugh.

“Hopefully, a lot,” he nips at your chin.

��Nathan!” You shake your head laughing, but inside you feel it. That pull. You’re already falling for him and he is too. “I think I’m going to tell my cousin I’m going to stay-“

“Forever?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “Maybe I will.”

“We’ll get your things tomorrow. I want to meet my future cousin-in-law.”

// 

tagging: @pascal-isaac, @wasicskosgirl, @velvetmel0n, @huliabitch, @shadow-assassin-blix, @writefightandflightclub, @aellynera, @softboywriting, @veuliee2, @spider-starry, @mylifeliterally, @millllenniawrites, @ntlmundy, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire, @mandoplease​, @anetteaneta​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @artsymaddie​, @shakespeareanwannabe​, @thevalentinowhitebag​, @deanfanatic​, @magicsuperheroes​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @that-one-weird-one​, @mariesackler​

[yoonjinkooked]

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien | Jimin

moodboard by the lovely and amazing @flajka, who was also my #1 helper and support through the torturous 10 month journey that this story was. 

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Strangers to lovers, smut, romcom

Warnings: explicit sex, slight exhibitionism (fingering, out in the open but not in public, boat sex, oral (f and m receiving) brief but gory painting description, a lot of cursing, Jimin will end you Word Count: 19k+  Summary: You keep meeting a handsome stranger in Paris. One coincidence after another leads to the most amazing trip of your life A/N: This shit took 10 months to write. Thank @flajka, Kehlani and Jimin’s sexy Paris photos.  Spotify playlists for this fic are: 1 / 2 / 3  - I had to separate them because you can’t put Edith Piaf on the same playlist as Ace Of Base.  Hope you enjoy! 

Looking up from the screen of your phone, you blink once, twice, three times – you are not where you are supposed to be and Google maps are the stupidest invention ever.

It took you two hours to find your Airbnb apartment yesterday, all because Google maps were not quite user friendly. Not to mention that your sense of direction was utterly pathetic.

Yet despite all of that, you were absolutely positive that finding ‘Shakespeare and company’ would be an easy task – after all, you were so close to it, having just spent 10 minutes mourning the fact that the Notre-Dame was still very much unapproachable. From there to the bookstore, the route should have been easy to follow but alas, it was not. Somehow, you have managed to confuse yourself even further.

Looking around in place, you breathe a sigh of relief when you see the green doors and a sign that tells you that perhaps your sense of direction isn’t as bad as you think it is – ‘Shakespeare and Company’.

There it is, the bookstore with such rich history, one of your must-see places in Paris, something that the ‘Midnight in Paris’ lover in you had to tick off the list – there it is, right before you and very much closed. You check the time, finding that it is almost nine – a quick Google search, which is something you should have done before leaving your apartment – tells you that it opens up at half past nine.

You don’t have time, you absolutely don’t have time to sit around and wait for it to open. It’s going to take you some time to reach the 7th Arrondissement and once you do get there, two museums await. Wasting time, waiting for a bookstore to open is not a luxury you can afford right now.

Perhaps you will have time before you leave. After all, you still have a week to spend in the city of light and although your plans are pretty strict and well-organized, you are aware that some changes are bound to happen. But you will leave that for the last day – right now, you only have a few minutes of your life to offer to a closed bookstore.

As you take photos of the famed location, you recall the comments your mother made before you left, about how a young woman shouldn’t travel alone in a foreign country. She had a point – one shouldn’t travel alone if they want to have at least one photo of themselves on the memory card. It sucks a bit but you don’t let it dampen your mood – you don’t need photos to preserve the memories. A selfie stick was always an option but it was also beneath you – something you’ve decided when they first appeared.

“Is it closed?” a voice asks from behind you, making you jump a bit, as you weren’t aware that you had company. The man looking at you seems to be about your age and a tourist, if the camera around his neck is anything to go by. The brief once-over you give him lets you know he is also unnaturally attractive.

“Yeah,” you tell him, offering him a compassionate smile when you see his expression sour. “It should open soon though – about half an hour, if Google is correct.”

“Thanks for the info,” he smiles, before he lifts up his camera and starts taking photos. You realize that the chit-chat is over, so you resume taking photos as well. Just a few seconds later, his presence gave you an idea.

“Hey, would you mind taking a photo of me?” you ask sheepishly, smiling when he nods his head at once. “I’m travelling alone and I just want at least one photo of me in the folder, you know?”

“I can relate,” he chuckles as he takes the camera from you. “How do you want to take it? Casually touristy, right in front of it or artsy, with you looking up at the sign in awe?”

“Artsy,” he laughs at your immediate response, to which you simply shrug. “When will I be artsy if not in Paris?”

“Touché,” he agrees, before directing you so that he can take a decent shot. “Turn a bit to the left.”

A few seconds later, it’s his turn. After settling your own camera around your neck, you take his and take a few photos of him as he stands in the same spot you did, looking up at the sign in fake awe. This gives you a chance to properly look at him for the first time. He is indeed handsome, insanely so. Dark brown hair swept away from his face, insanely clear skin and a jaw that could cut right through glass. Looking right at him is almost blinding and you rush to take the photos.

“All done,” you smile as you return the camera to him. “I think you have a few decent shots there.”

“Thanks,” he smiles as you adjust your backpack, ready to take your leave – Shakespeare will have to enjoy your company some other day. “Enjoy the rest of Paris.”

“Yeah, you too,” you smile back at the man, mumbling under your breath as you leave because it serves you right to meet the most handsome man ever half-way across the world.

By the time you finally escape the Parisian metro, you are dead tired. Musée Rodin was just as beautiful as ‘Midnight in Paris’ made it seem to be. You’ve spent the good part of the morning roaming it’s gardens, before finally moving onto Les Invalides, which housed the tomb of the oh so great Napoleon Bonaparte. That was arguably less exciting than Musée Rodin, with you actually giving up on it completely as soon as you saw his tomb. The comments you thought of while admiring the size of the tomb and him obviously carrying his complexes into afterlife were left to you alone, making you chuckle at random times and earning a few curious looks from your fellow tourists.

Your tourist escapades ended at Champ de Mars, with an impromptu picnic which included sitting on your jacket and eating a marvelous French feast made up from pre-packaged Starbucks caramel macchiato and salt&vinegar chips – mmm, so French it hurts. Originally, you wanted to wait for the infamous light show to start but after just an hour, you have already given up and made your leave, hoping not to get lost in the metro yet again.

Luckily, you didn’t. You were so tired by the time you got to the place you rented in the outskirts of Paris that you barely had the energy to shower. And tomorrow, with Versailles being your top priority, your day was bound to be even more tiring.

You are fuming, absolutely fuming, wanting nothing more than to curse out loud and stomp on the ground. You have been tricked and that was just the drop that made the glass overflow.

You woke up with a massive headache and after forcing yourself to eat a bit, you could finally drink medication. By the time you were ready to leave your rental apartment, the timetable you made for today was already long forgotten – you’re at least an hour late.

But that isn’t a problem. It’s not even the ever confusing metro, because somehow, with a lot of help from locals, you’ve managed to figure out where you should wait for the right ride to Versailles. All of it was a bit stress inducing but definitely not a problem. The real problem occurred when you were in front of the magnificent golden gates, which you couldn’t even see because of the massive line.

Clutching your fast pass ticket, you approach a smaller line leading to the entrance, hoping and praying that you weren’t wasting your time waiting there instead of in the massive crowd, hoping that your fast pass can actually let you pass, fast.

You were mistaken. Apparently, every single human being waiting in the long ass line also had the fast pass ticket. How long do people without a fast pass have to wait is a question you don’t even want to know the answer to. With a few huffs and puffs, you took your place in line, annoyed at anything and everything, starting from the stupid agency who sold you this worthless ticket, right down to your best friend who suggested taking this trip together, only to bail on you to let her boyfriend take her to Ibiza.

As if all of that was not enough to ruin your mood, rain had started to fall, damping your clothes enough so that they match your mood.  At least you were ready for it, having read up about the unpredictable early summer rains of Paris and making sure to never leave the apartment without your hideously yellow umbrella.

An hour and a half later, you finally put the damn fast pass into use and enter the extravagant home of some Louis – you’re not ashamed to admit to not know which one. After all, you were about to learn.

The inside of the magnificent palace left you with mixed emotions, in all honesty. On one hand, it truly is as grand and striking as you had always imagined it to be. On the other hand, the crowd was killing you. Teens running around and touching things they shouldn’t be touching, people looking at everything through the screen of their phones and cameras instead of actually looking… It all left you feeling a bit on edge and wishing you had a chance to attend a private tour or something. Knowing that you will probably experience the same thing later today in the Louvre wasn’t helping either.

Every time you would pass a window, you found yourself wanting to be outside and after an hour of torture and not being able to enjoy anything, you have finally given up – fuck the rain, fuck it all – most people are still inside to avoid the rain after all and you do have your trusted umbrella with you.

Stepping into the gardens of Versailles was the best decision you could have made and you regretted not making it sooner. There were very few people outside and even the light drizzle could not ruin the experience of such a beautiful place. It’s fascinating, really, to look from the balcony above and to not see the end to all the gardens, green labyrinths, with many fountains and statues placed at nearly every corner.

It was almost impossible for you to decide where to start, so you just decided to roam freely, with no end goal in mind. You don’t even bother with your camera much, once you reach the seemingly endless green maze. The view from higher ground is magnificent but as you walk around, all you see is green hedges, incredibly tall green hedges – a very literal maze of plants. The smell is comforting – a mixture of the familiar smell of rain and of plants – more specifically, grass.

You wander around, enjoying the peace and quiet. There are more people in the maze but they are far from you and compared to the crowd you were in just minutes ago, they are ignorable, unless they are heading directly in your direction.

You recognize him instantly – other than a few locals you’ve asked for directions, he is the only person you exchanged more than one sentence with – it’s the guy from ‘Shakespeare and Company’, walking towards you. Your fear of awkwardness makes you lower the umbrella so that you can pretend that you simply didn’t see him. You only lift the umbrella up when you see his feet walk by you.

It would be weird and awkward. What do you say to someone you recognize but don’t really know? Hey? What if he doesn’t remember you and you embarrass yourself for no good reason? No, this was completely ignorable, luckily for you.

You are not fast enough the second time. The next crossroad in the maze leaves you making eye contact with him, as he is standing parallel to you, with a solid distance in-between. Solid enough for you to still pretend you do not recognized him. The eye contact made you feel a bit uneasy because what if he remembers you too? The awkwardness you’ve wanted to avoid might have just doubled.

So you walk on, taking a left turn as soon as you find one, finding the first ‘hidden room’ of the maze and a breathtaking, extravagant fountain that all but begs for you to take photos of it. Consciously steering away from the direction he seemed to have been taking, you walk along.

Left, straight, left again, straight, a bit to the right – you even manage to lose track of your surroundings, hoping that you are heading towards the gigantic fountain you’ve seen from the upper balcony.

Yet somehow, you still manage to see him again and much to your dismay, make direct eye contact. He is standing parallel from you and before you turned around and started walking, you could see what looked like mild confusion on his face.

Crap. He must have recognized you to a certain extent and now you’re making it painfully obvious that you are running away from him. For no good reason, too. You could have simply said “Oh hey, I remember you from yesterday, enjoy Versailles” or something along that line and made your exit but no, god no, you just had to make a fool of yourself.

You’ve never taken pride in your title of awkward social potato and this little mishap has to rank pretty high on your list of embarrassing moments. Sure, weird eye contact isn’t that big of a deal but the fact that it could have been easily avoid it and wasn’t only makes it 10 times worse.

Surprisingly enough, as soon as you realize that you’re being ridiculous, you have a chance for a do-over.

By the time you’ve reached the grand fountain, with a very confusing yet majestic statue of horses in the middle of it, you see him again, standing right on the edge of it, luckily not looking your way. Once again you are reminded of just how good looking he is and it’s not helping you with what you are about to do, since insanely attractive men tend to make you nervous and tongue tied.

“Well, at least the Versailles was open,” you try to sound as casual as possible as you stand a few feet away from him, watching as confusion disappears from his face as he puts two and two together.

“I thought I recognized you,” he laughs and you realize that his laughter is as melodic as his voice. Damn him. “They opened yesterday minutes after you left,” he tells you and to that you shrug.

“Nine days in Paris aren’t enough – I had museums to see,” you tell him, watching as he nods in understanding, still smiling at you. “I hope you enjoyed it, though.”

“I did,” he tells you. “Since you’re here, would you mind taking a photo of me?” he sounds as sheepish as you did yesterday. “You’re the only stranger I’d trust with my camera,” he adds. He makes a simple sentence like that hit you like a full force flirt and by the time you actually take the camera from his hands, you are positive you are blushing.

You take a few photos of him, his insanely good profile in particular, hoping that you are not drooling all over yourself. “Return the favor?” you ask, lifting your own camera, to which he laughs and extends his hand to you.

Posing is always awkward, period. Posing to a hot stranger is borderline traumatic. You do it anyways, looking away from the camera because you’ve had enough “eye contact” with him to last you a lifetime. Awkwardly standing in front of him, you wait as he checks the photos before smiling up at you and offering the camera back to you. “Perfect.”

“Thanks. Enjoy the rest of Versailles,” you casually announce your departure, feeling relieved and regretful at the same time as you walk away from him, backwards. In all honesty, the kind smile on your face made you want to stick around for a while longer.

“Thanks, you too.”

You turn around and walk away, taking a deep breath to relax yourself. The Louvre awaits – hot strangers will have their turn some other time.  

Four days in Paris were enough for you to start your own list of unpopular, maybe even popular, opinions about the city. You were always interested in the city but never obsessed with it, like many are, so you’d say that your opinions are unbiased, at least to a certain extent.

For example, Parisians are nice and they actually do make an effort to speak English if you ask them something. Of course, not everyone has the same experience but the urban myth of them being condescending, rude and downright ignoring people who speak English was proven to be false.

Yes, the city is gorgeous but it has so much to offer beside a fairly tall tower.

And last, but certainly not least – the Louvre is overrated.

After waiting in rain, again (not the museum’s fault, obviously), you finally got inside, only to proceed and get lost four times. Actual four times, you had no idea where you were and where you were supposed to go next. You were nearly trampled in front of the Mona Lisa, all while watching in shock as the people were pushing each other to try and take a selfie with the iconic painting behind them. That was the first instance when you thought how much you hate people. The next one was when you saw a grown adult, a man in his 30s, grabbing an antique Greek statue by the balls.

It was at that point that the museum walking became torture to you. Paired with its confusing layout and the employees who either truly had no idea how to help you or simply didn’t want to bother with helping a pesky tourist, you ended up wandering aimlessly, looking at everything and nothing at all, wondering how much it would cost to get an exclusive, chaperoned, after-hours tour of the Louvre. Probably too much for someone who’s keeping cheap ramen in their rented apartment.

Muse d’Orsay, your present location, is something else entirely. It is painfully obvious that at least a third of the yesterday’s crowd only went to the Luvre because someone told them they should, you overheard a few say as much, and compared to that, the visitors of Muse d’Orsay came here on their own accord. It is decently full, but not crowded. The only place where you actually had to wait in line was in front of Van Gogh’s artwork, which was to be expected.

The entire place is casual, yet sophisticated, far less confusing compared to the gigantic mess that is The Louvre. You can take your time and go wherever, without having to consult a map and pray that you’re not confusing yourself even further. You can also sit and relax for a little while, which is something your tired feet are extremely grateful for but in a very unusual way, the people around you are making you feel uncomfortable. Most of them are casually sitting and sketching the gigantic clock, the centerpiece of Muse d’Orsay and while observing that is beautiful, it also remindes you that you are, to put it nicely, talentless in the same field.

So you keep on roaming, until you find your place on a bench set before an enormous painting. Definitely three times, if not four, your height, The Women of Gaul has your full attention. The piece is as eerie and hauntingly beautiful as it is confusing – like many times over the last couple of days, you’re not sure where to look first. What catches your attention, bizarrely, is the center character – a woman, standing tall and proud with an angry look on her face and holding a dead baby by the arm.

It appears as if she has killed the baby on her own accord – she’d rather lose everything she has than surrender. Admirable and scary at the same time. With all due respect to the masterpiece, she looks ready to bitchslap some soldiers.

“We meet again, stranger,” you only realize someone is talking to you when they sit a few feet away from you and you nearly choke on dry air when you realize it’s him – the Shakespeare guy, the Versailles guy, your unofficial photographer, in all of his ripped jeans glory.

“Wow,” you laugh. How big is Paris? How many people live here, how many tourists roam the streets every day? And yet three days in a row, you see him. “We keep bumping into each other.”

“Looks like our travel itineraries keep overlapping,” he chuckles. “I’m Jimin, by the way,” he adds, before the silence turns awkward. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” he offers you his hand, which you accept instantly.

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. “So, how’s Paris working out for you?”

“I love it,” he admits, looking away from you to focus on the much less friendlier woman in the painting in front of you. “I like it more than I thought I would, in all honesty.”

“Same here,” you admit, finding it quite easy to talk to him, given that you are usually definitely more apprehensive when it comes to people you don’t know. But hey, you know his name now – that counts, right? “From word of mouth alone, I thought it was a bit overrated but it has its charms. Plenty of them, actually.”

“Museums or city streets?” he asks, turning to look at you again. He has striking, dark eyes that have no trouble looking directly at yours – you, on the other hand, swallow a lump. “Which do you enjoy more?”

“A bit of both, depends on the day,” you sound way more casual than you feel. “You?”

“City streets,” he answers, focusing on the painting again. “Art is amazing but art is art, wherever you are. While cities… they’re all different. Each city has its own thing and as much as I enjoy looking at artwork, I’d rather pick… exploring the city, breathing it in. Polluted air and all.”

“Makes sense,” you agree, knowing just how right he is. A museum is a museum, whether it’s in Paris or the tiniest of towns. It’s fascinating but it’s still a building with four walls and a roof – outside, the streets, the people, the charm distinct to each city – that’s where all the fun is at.

“Have you seen the impressionism area?” he asks.

“Not yet, why?”

“Me neither,” he laughs, confusing you a bit. “Travelling alone is fun but at times it can get painfully dull. I thought maybe you’d want to look around the museum a bit more and then we can go somewhere?”

Oh. Okay. He wants your company. Surprising, yet flattering.

“I’d love to,” you find yourself answering, ignoring all the possible red flags you probably should have not ignored – after all, this is fairly similar to the plot of Taken, and you don’t have a Liam Neeson waiting to rescue you. Mr. Ripped Jeans Jimin has a point – travelling alone can be very dull. With how the two of you have been running into each other for days now, it seems like the universe wants you to have someone to talk to for a while. “Anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

“Montmartre?” he suggests after considering your question for a few seconds. “The stairs in front of Sacré-Cœur are always a good idea?”

He isn’t wrong - Sacré-Cœur is very much on your bucket list – scheduled for tomorrow, right on time to see the sunset. But at the same time, you have no specific plans for this afternoon and Jimin does seem like he could be good company.

Why not?

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, feeling a metaphorical punch to your gut when his face lights up once you agree with his idea. “Let’s see those impressionists first, shall we?”

The language barrier is quite something. Despite knowing a few basic French words and phrases, your pronunciation is so damn tragic, no transaction was possible without the use of English and sometimes, like right now, lots of waving and pointing.

Jimin was looking at you in amusement while you desperately tried to explain that you need one chocolate croissant. By the point the lady behind the counter understood what you wanted, you were more than happy to leave with whatever the hell she’d give you, even if it’s not your precious croissant.

“Do you want something? Are you hungry?” you ask, wanting to treat him to some food since he insisted on paying for the bottle of wine that is currently in his backpack.

He nods, proceeding to speak to state his order in what sounds like fluent French. “I got some for you too,” he tells you as he elegantly stands in front of you, taking out his wallet and smiling as he sees that you are about to protest. “No way,” he shakes his head. “I’m paying – I ordered more. Besides, if you are buying the chocolate croissant, you obviously have no idea what you’re doing.”

A comment like that could have sounded extremely condescending coming from anyone else, but from Jimin, with his kind smile? No way. “You did not just diss a chocolate croissant!”

“Oh, yes I did,” he chuckles as he rushes to offer money before you can – defeated, but a little glad, you return your wallet into the bag, thinking how maybe you will treat yourself to more than instant ramen for your lunch tomorrow. “I love chocolate as much as the next guy but the raisin one? Hell, even the plain one – much better,” he tells as he takes the bag and exits the bakery, leaving you to follow him.

“I’m all for experimenting but come on – it’s a chocolate croissant. It can’t be bad.”

“I’ve never said it was bad,” he laughs at you as you finally catch up with him and the two of you walk side by side. “I’ve just said others were better, which you will confirm once you try them. Now – do we walk or do we waste money on the lift?”

How can a question so simple be so complicated? Your feet hurt, you’ve walked more since you landed in Paris than you have the whole last month – of course you want to take the lift and avoid unnecessary stairs. On the other hand, stairs pretty much guarantee that you will have more time to spend with Jimin and so far, he’s been a decent companion.

“How about… we take the lift to go up and we walk on our way down?” you suggest.

“Deal.”

He didn’t have a chance to see Montmarte either, he tells you on your way up. Much like you, he had a schedule and he kept to it. Until today, when he spontaneously dropped his plans and invited you to spend the rest of the day with him. You did not have solid plans to begin with, so it wasn’t much of a change, save from the fact that you were in good company.

And good company he was – surprisingly, there weren’t many moments of awkward silence as the two of you tried to find a place that fits you both – that was a challenge, seeing as many people have gathered to enjoy the view, a nice drink and an impromptu performance by buskers. In the corner of the stairs, a little bit away from the crowd, the two of you sit and it’s a matter of seconds before Jimin is opening the bottle of wine with a swiss knife he pulled out of his bag – a bag that looks like it costs more than your monthly rent – not that you were paying any attention to it.

“So…” he starts, pausing to smile at you as he gives you your cup, before moving on to fill his own. “Tell me something about yourself. I only know your name and that we live in the same city.”

“And yet somehow we’ve met on a different continent,” you add, smiling when he ‘clinks’ his plastic cup against yours. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugs, nodding in approval at the taste of the wine. “Why Paris? Why alone? What’s your favorite color? An actor you hate but can’t explain why? Tell me anything.”

“Why Paris? Why not Paris? There are so many places I want to see, cities I want to explore and it all had to start somewhere. My friend had wanted to see Paris while I was pretty much up for anything. Of course, she then decided that Ibiza with her boytoy sounds like a better idea than Paris with her friend,” you add, sounding just a little bitter. It’s not the nicest thing she has done but you’ll get over it.

“And your boyfriend was not interested in the beauty of France?”

Now you are confused. His raised eyebrow and tiny, barely there smile, tell you that he is absolutely asking about your boyfriend for no other reason but to confirm whether or not you have one. However, this wouldn’t be the first time for you to completely misread signs and confuse flirting with casual conversation. You decide to play it safe and not waste time on reading between the lines.

“Don’t have one,” you shrug, looking away from him and focusing on the buskers. “It does get quite boring after a while. It would be nice to have a travel partner.”

“And if you don’t, you can always ask a random, kind stranger to take your photos for you?” you join in on his laugh, glad that you spoke up that day in front of ‘Shakespeare and Company’. If you hadn’t, chances are you wouldn’t have a conversation in Versailles, which then would not continue today.

If he can do it, so can you – the can of worms is wide open. “And what does your girlfriend say about you traveling without her?” you asks, before backtracking quickly. “Or boyfriend. Or one of each, really,” you add, making him laugh.

God, there really is no smooth way to ask about the relationship status of someone you barely know, someone you’re not even completely sure you like. If two are at a club, where the music is loud and they can’t even keep a conversation, ‘are you single’ is completely acceptable. And that setting is perfect for a rejection – if they say no, you just dance away to your drink or to the next person.

This? It’s a warm day in Paris and you are surrounded by people of all ages, families even. You have been talking about the city, travelling, art and now what, ‘are you single’ or ‘would you be interested in sleeping with me’ is the next topic of conversation? No, it doesn’t work that way. Especially when you’re not even sure what you want, much less what he wants.

“Well, I don’t have either of the two so I can’t really answer that,” is that a hint of a smirk you see on his face? Okay, you may not be a champion at flirting but it looks like things are heading that way.

“Interesting,” you mumble, earning an eyebrow raise from him. Shit. You panic and focus on the plastic cup full of wine, hoping that if you drink enough of it fast, the blush that is taking over your face can be attributed to the alcohol. It doesn’t help – you move the cup away and meet his eyes, only to find him obviously waiting for you to explain your comment.

“Are you going to explain why that’s interesting on your own or should I ask about it and force you to elaborate?” he asks and you immediately turn to your cup, making him laugh, loudly, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle and his whole body move.

“I’m awkward, please don’t make it any worse,” you tell him, a part of you hoping he won’t hear you.

“As you wish,” he is still laughing and you still want to die of embarrassment. That being said, him teasing you is a good sign, you think. Now, you’re fairly certain that you absolutely are in the flirting territory and while that doesn’t make things easier for you one bit, at least now you know you perhaps won’t make a fool of yourself if you are more straightforward. Or maybe you will. Who knows?! “Y/N, do you believe in destiny?” he asks and while you’re glad the topic is changed… really?

“That’s such a broad question,” you chuckle, pausing to think about it for a second. “I suppose I do, but you’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. What kind of destiny?”

“Okay… first, do you believe that it’s all planned out? Like, your entire life?” he asks.

“Hardly,” you answer immediately, having thought about that already, many times in your life. “I suppose that to a certain extent, it is destiny. Like… the situations that you will be put in. But your reactions to said situations are your own. Destiny can’t control how you, or the people in your life, react to something. So I guess… no?” you try to sum it up, laughing at your own rant.

“Makes sense,” he agrees as he leans back, now almost lying down on the staircase, propped on his elbow as he looks away from you and towards the magnificent view of Paris. You realize once again that he looks like a full course meal, skinny jeans and all, and you reach for your plastic cup for solace, again. “Some things are set in stone… like where you’re born, who your parents are, maybe even who you’re going to be in life. But not the tiny details… like what kind of friend you are, if you can cook or not, who will be your first kiss and so on… Is that what you meant?” he asks, suddenly turning his eyes on you and faced with them, you nearly choke on the drink you’ve been hiding behind.

Damn him and his eyes. And his smirk. And yes, his ripped skinny jeans too.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“And what about us?” he asks, smirking your way again. “We’ve been running into each other all over Paris… that’s why I thought that there has to be a reason behind it… don’t you agree?”

“Could be,” you agree, knowing that no matter how skeptical you might be about the concept of destiny, even you have to admit that the amount of times the two of you have crossed paths this week is something unusual. “You think it was destined for two of us to meet and hang out on these stairs?”

“Why not?” he laughs, sensing the trace of skepticism behind your words, even though you mostly agreed with him. “I can accept that not every cute girl I meet is destiny playing its tune but we couldn’t have avoided each other even if we tried, could we?”

You’re cute. Okay. You can live with that. You can definitely live with that.

“What else does destiny want us to do?”

You’ll admit it, you feel bolder now, knowing how shamelessly he had admitted that he obviously thinks you’re cute. Sure, you’re not nearly as bold as you wish you were but… step by step?

“Well, there’s this party down at the 8th Arrondissement that I thought of going to. Nothing huge, just a regular club. We don’t have to, if you don’t feel like partying. If you do, we can sit here for a while longer and then take a cab down there or something?” he suggests.

First he thinks you’re cute. Then he wants you to go clubbing. Sure, he isn’t hitting on you per se, but he obviously wants to spend more time with you and knowing that makes you feel like you’ve won the lottery. Maybe it’s the butterflies that you’re feeling now, after ages of them being MIA, maybe it’s the way Jimin looks at you, with the tiniest of smirks gracing his face, or maybe it’s just Jimin himself – you’re not sure and frankly, it doesn’t matter. Bottom line is, he wants to spend more time with you and despite you not really giving a shit about destiny, you do want to spend more time with him too.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

And then he goes and bites his lip, mid-smile.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell you’ll survive clubbing with him. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try.

It didn’t take you long to realize that Jimin is a piece of work, in the best ways.

He is confident when approaching strangers, whether it was you, earlier today, or a random person to ask if the two of you could join their table. He can handle his drink and he does, in fact, drink quite a bit. His behavior doesn’t change – he’s still smiley, friendly, his words never slurring, his walk as perfect and sexy as it was when he was 100% sober – the only real change in his appearance is that three tequila shots in, he’s red in the face.

You? You’ve stopped drinking one shot ago, not wanting to push yourself into the state of ‘please fuck me in the alley behind this park, Mr. Stranger’ because you do tend to turn clingy after drinking a bit too much. No, this time around, you’ve kept yourself tipsy enough to throw away some inhibitions but sober enough to not jump on the guy in the middle of a crowded club.

And lord almighty, it is crowded.

You would have never thought that Parisians and a couple of tourists would be this into 90s trash music but here you are, dancing the night away with a hot as hell stranger to the tune of ‘Be My Lover’. You’ve been dancing nonstop for what feels like hours, the only break happening when he goes to the bar to get the two of you drinks and you take that chance to lean against the wall to catch your breath.

You want to chastise yourself for trusting a stranger with your drink but after debating it while you were still sober, you’ve come to the conclusion that you’re going to trust said stranger. 

Taking a deep breath, you rummage through your bag, trying to find something to cool yourself down with, settling for a brochure you had picked up in Musée d'Orsay earlier today. You fan yourself, staying comfortably away from the crowd that’s dancing like their life depends on it.

It’s hot, it’s crowded, you’re tipsy and if you’re being completely honest, you’re turned on. Yes, in a tiny, dark, hole of a club, with a 90s eurodance song in Spanish blasting through the speakers, you can still manage to feel that way and it’s solely because of him.

For the past two hours, he has been flirting with you in ways that make you wonder if he’s actually flirting of he’s a hallucination of your deranged mind.

He hasn’t stopped touching you all night, but he does so in ways that are not… obvious. He holds your hand while you are walking through the crowd. He puts his hands on your waist while you’re dancing, but they’re positioned in a way that makes you think he just enjoys having a dance partner, not that he wants to fuck your brains out. He is close, but not close enough to make you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wants to kiss you. It’s driving you insane and you’re feeling hot – literally and metaphorically.

The song changed to something a bit more bearable for listening, but still trashy enough, when you finally felt your body relaxing and calming down after the onslaught of senses it has been through in the last two hours. However, the moment you think you’ll manage to cool your head, you see him.

It’s not that he is hot. Sure, he is hot as hell and nice on the eyes, which is something you see others noticing, as they turn their heads while he walks past them, drinks in hand. It’s not that he is so damn charming, although that plays a part too. What’s really getting to you is simply the way he looks at you.

Even now, in the crowd, as he makes his way to your little makeshift hideaway, his eyes are directly on you. He’s not even paying attention on if he’s spilling your drinks or not – nope, he is looking right at you. And despite the feeling of panic that causes, you can’t look away. You can’t hide from it, you can’t fight it – you just have to keep eye contact with him, even though you feel like weak prey.

You’d lie if you say that there weren’t moments when his eyes would look… elsewhere. Your lips, your neck or at the tiny trace of cleavage your shirt lets him see (is that one a blessing or a curse?)…  That you could deal with, as much as you were figuratively on fire. But a man with confidence to look you directly in the eyes, all the time? Yeah, you’ve kind of wanted die.

Especially now, with him sliding through the cracks between people, smiling your way, eyes burning into yours. With mere seconds to get yourself ready for him, you take a deep breath, thanking your lucky stars that he looked away, enough to put your drinks on the table next to you.

“I know you didn’t want anything, but I got you a cocktail in case you change your mind later,” he tells you and the only reason you actually understand every word he is saying is because you are staring at his lips. The music is loud, loud enough to make you want to come closer to him and ask him to repeat his words but at this point, you are a certified lip reader because good god, his lips.

“That’s okay.”

You wanted to say more, you really did, but the moment he put those drinks down, his hands were on your waist and he was close now, closer than he was before, with just an inch of space between your face and his. And even this close, even with a damn inch between the two of you, he stares into your eyes, directly into your eyes, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. And frankly, he most likely does.

“Let’s dance, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You let him take you down into the crowd again, not even noticing the loss of your precious brochure you’ve used as a makeshift fan. You let him stay close to you and you let him keep his hands on you at all times. You let him take over your entire mind, knowing that at this point, you can’t think of anything that isn’t him.

Where? Where are guys like these? Where are guys who are confident, funny, charming and sexy, without trying to get into your pants like desperate teenagers? He has the right amount of everything and a part of you wonders where are others like him? But with him in front of you, directly in front of you, with barely an inch of thin air between you, does it really matter?

You’ve given up, totally and completely. You let him eat you up with his eyes, sway your hips to the beats of bad music in any direction he wants, smiling back at him when he smiles at you.

He is closer now, even closer than before, your noses brushing against each other every other moment. He is closer and you feel like you’re going to faint if he doesn’t do something, anything really.

It’s a weird feeling to describe. You don’t know what you want but you want it, bad. And while in theory, it would be easy to take the last step and just kiss him, you can’t do it. What’s stopping you – you don’t know, you really don’t. Yes, he hasn’t explicitly said that he wants you to do anything but his actions speak enough on their own. You could close the space between the two of you and end the misery but you can’t. Something is stopping you and at this point, it feels suffocating.

All of it. Him, the crowd, the sweaty bodies all around you – it’s too much. You need fresh air. Right now.

“What time is it?” you yell at him and you can see he’s surprised – you’ve mostly been quiet, overcome with everything else to form rational thoughts. Not only that, but you’re asking about time, of all things.

“Almost 1:30AM,” he tells you, after glancing on his wristwatch, before returning the hand back on your waist. “Why? Do you want to leave?” he asks and for one second, one damn second, you see a trace of something other than pure confidence on his face. It’s not insecurity or worry, not even disappointment. It looks like a mix of all three and something else, but it’s all very faint and lasts for barely a second before he smiles at you. “It’s okay if you do. Truly.”

“It’s not that I want to leave,” you mumble, before remembering you’re in a damn club. So, you close the space between the two of you and put your lips to his ear, brushing his skin as you speak. “It’s not that I want to leave. But I need some fresh air. We can come back if you want to.”

“You want me to go with you?” he asks as you pull away and you nod. “You sure?” he asks, looking at you with worry in his eyes. He’s questioning it, if only a little bit, probably worried that you’re running away and he’s being pushy. Which isn’t the truth. You are running away, but not from him, not exactly.

“Yes,” you laugh, taking his hand, as if to show that you mean it. He smiles back at you and leads the way. You think he’d go back to your borrowed table, so that he can finish his drink but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he leads the way to the area where you left your bags in exchange for 5 euros.

Seeing as you are the only ones leaving this early, the exchange for your stuff is quick and by the time you are breathing in the cool Paris air, it hasn’t been more than a few minutes since you’ve expressed your desire to leave. And the cool air helps. Well, it’s either the cool air or the fact that Jimin isn’t attached to you at this moment. With a bit of distance between you, you can actually use your brain.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he watches you take deep breaths. “We can walk it off if you’ve had too much to drink? I can walk you back to your place if you want to leave?” he suggests.

“No,” you smile at him, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by how helpful he is, as well as worried. “I’m not wasted. I don’t even know if I’m tipsy anymore,” you tell him. Sure, you might not be tipsy from the alcohol but he is a different story – you are very much drunk on him. But you won’t tell him that. “I just needed a bit of air. Maybe we can walk? Then come back or something?”

“Sure, yeah,” he nods and you lead the way. “You know, we don’t have to come back here because of me. I’m perfectly fine with just walking around. We can go somewhere else or find a bench to sit on. I can call a cab for you if you want to go back to your place.”

“I’m enjoying tonight very much,” you reassure him. There are… so many other things that you’d like to say, about him and the way he makes you feel, but you just… don’t have the balls to do so. So you simply settle with reassuring him that you’re enjoying the night. “Let’s just walk around and then figure out what we want to do next. The same goes for you – I’m fine with doing whatever you want to do.”

“You know, the last light show of the night is at 2AM,” he tells you, glancing at his watch quickly. “We can still catch it, if you’d like to. Maybe we even have time to go to the tower itself but we can definitely make it to Trocadéro on time?” he suggests and even though you normally refuse to be such a basic tourist, a huge part of you is excited at the thought of seeing the tower light up.

“I haven’t seen it yet. You want to go?” you ask, continuing with the tradition he had started of questioning everything for whatever reason.

“Sure, let’s go.”

There are people roaming around the area – of course there are, it’s Paris, there are tourists in every nook and cranny of the damn city. However, the numbers are smaller than they were when you went here the other day. You were definitely not alone but you did manage to find a section of the fence where no one was waiting with their cameras ready. Which is exactly what the two of you are doing now, waiting to capture the perfect moment of the tower lighting up.

You’ve been fairly quiet since you’ve left the club but it wasn’t the negative kind of silence, not at all. It was the silence that comes after a slightly overwhelming moment. You’re not sure if Jimin feels the same and if he does, he sure didn’t show it, but he was quiet along with you, speaking up only when you do, smiling your way whenever you’ve felt brave enough to make direct eye contact. It was comfortable and it made you realize just how much you have let this total stranger get under your skin.

“Doesn’t this feel a bit like the New Year’s countdown?” you ask, adjusting your camera so that the tower is right in the center of it – as much as Jimin is overwhelming, you still want to capture a decent photograph. It’s a once in a lifetime event. At least for us, non-Parisian commoners.

“It does,” he chuckles. “Ah, here we go!”

It’s impossible not to laugh at all the sighs of wonder you hear coming from around you. Yes, it’s a beautiful sight but… come on! It’s not a natural phenomenon; it’s a tower with lights on it! You sense Jimin reacting to it the same way you do, laughing a bit at the amazement of everyone around you but still taking a photo and enjoying the moment.

“Wait, let me take a photo of you,” he tells you and to your surprise, he doesn’t ask for your camera – he simply steps back with his. You don’t say anything and you try not to think too much of it but at the very least you are now expecting an exchange of social media or emails, knowing that you now have a perfect excuse of contacting him. Unable to hide a smile at the realization, you try to strike a casual pose, all while feeling like a complete idiot because he is looking at you again. “Wait,” he suddenly says and walks back up to you, reaching his hand closer to your face. “May I?”

You nod, not even sure what exactly you’re agreeing to here. Gently, he runs his hand through your hair, similar to the way he runs it through his own hair a few times a minute, messing it up a little bit. You don’t exactly have a mirror on you right now, but you imagine it’s the cute kind of messy, not the messy kind of messy. Why would he want you to look like shit for the photo? So, you let him, trying to ignore the way your pulse races because of him being so close. “There,” he steps away from you, smiling.

“Messy enough?” you joke, laughing when he does.

“It’s not messy, it’s sexy,” he tells you and yeah, your stupid heart is in overdrive, the butterflies in your stomach wilding and your face absolutely blushing. “It’s cute, natural. It’s more you than the preppy pose you’ve just tried to pull off,” and now he kind of insulted you.

“Hey!” you snap back, unable to keep a straight face when he starts laughing again. “You’ve known me for a few hours, how do you know preppy poses aren’t my thing?”

“I just know,” he shrugs. “Now act natural. Smile.”

You wanted to fight him back in a passive aggressive way and remain preppy but you just can’t – not with him making you smile. So you smile and giggle, pretending like he doesn’t have a camera in front of his face. If he wants you to be natural, you’re going to be natural.

After a few shots, he moves the camera away from his face and gives you the most blinding smile he had given you so far.

“Your turn,” you order him, unsure how you can even talk anymore. You feel like jelly on the inside and it’s actually quite worrying, seeing as you haven’t felt like this many times in your life. Of course, you liked people, you dated people, hell you’ve even loved a guy or two! But god good, they’re not Jimin. The guy has it all and all of it is affecting you in ways you didn’t know you could be affected.

You swallow a few lumps as you try to focus on the tower too, and not just him, because yes, it kind of needs to be in the picture too and that is the whole point of this, isn’t it? It takes you a few tries but you end up with a good shot. No matter how tonight ends, you’ll have a palpable memory of Jimin saved in your camera and you’d be lying to yourself if you say that doesn’t make you feel a bit more at ease.

“How can something be so tacky and so breathtakingly beautiful at the same time?” you ask while walking back towards the fence, letting the camera dangle around your neck as you stand next to Jimin.

“It really is amazing, isn’t it?” he chuckles. This time around, you are the one shamelessly staring – he is too preoccupied with looking at the tower. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if it’s Paris, or just tonight or maybe even you, but everything feels so… I don’t know, honestly,” he laughs, shaking his head as if he’s in disbelief. “I guess I’m just… really enjoying tonight.”

Here he is, this… beautiful, hot, kind, charming stranger, right next to you. Just a few days ago, he was no more than a fellow tourist. Just a few days ago, you didn’t think much of him. Today was a different story. Today, he didn’t let you push him into the back of your mind. Today he had made himself the focus of your day, night and quite frankly, this whole damn trip.

You don’t have to see him ever again if you don’t want to. If destiny keeps messing with you, you might run into him back home but by then, enough time would have passed for you to be able to keep your cool. If it goes good… it’ll go good. And if it goes bad, you can go back to pretending like none of this ever happened, and that your whole Parisian escapade was not Jimin centric. It might be easier said than done but you’re a tough cookie. You can do it.

Why not go for it? Seriously Y/N, why not go for it?

So you do.

You step closer to him and reach your hand out, putting it on his cheek and turning him to face you – he doesn’t have enough time to react properly but you can see the flash of surprise on his face. There is no time for him to say or do anything, because you lean in and press your lips to his.

Fuck it. Seriously, just fuck it. You’re here, he’s here and with doing practically nothing, he’d made you feel more than you’ve felt in months. As tacky as it is, you truly do only live once and you know yourself well enough to know you’d end up regretting not doing this.

You might regret it anyways, who knows. But you’d eat yourself away if you hadn’t gone for it.

You’d be lying if you said that the kiss is magical. Really, it’s awkward. Your lips are not much in comparison to his beautifully plump ones and while that could be overpowering, he technically isn’t moving. What you thought would be a kiss that would rock your world, ends up being nothing more than one slightly longer peck because he isn’t moving.

You can feel it – you’ve fucked up. You went for it and in hindsight, you shouldn’t have. Feeling absolutely mortified by his lack of response, you pull away, feeling even worse when you see the way he’s looking at you – no awe, no surprise, no excitement. He doesn’t look pissed either, or confused. It’s difficult to describe it but he’s almost… scowling at you.

You’ve fucked it up. But that’s okay. At least you won’t wonder about the ‘what ifs’.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away from him quickly. As much as you’re trying to reassure yourself that it’s better to know than to wonder, you’re absolutely dying on the inside. If there’s a hole near here in which you could hide, right this second, you’d go there. Alas, you’re out in the open and have to deal with the mess you’ve made. “I guess I’ve misread the signals. I-“

With his hand on your back, he pulls you smack into his chest, not leaving any room between the two of you whatsoever. All that you see is him leaning into you with his eyes closed.

It’s not a peck – it’s anything but a peck. His lips guide yours to open and not even a second later, you feel his tongue moving against yours. He pulls you even closer to him, your bodies practically stuck together, with your hands squished between you. You feel him run his other hand through your hair, turning your head a bit towards the side so that he can have more access to you, as if he hadn’t had enough to begin with. His tongue is relentless and you’re absolutely sure that you’re about to faint, knees barely managing to keep your body standing.

You have never been kissed like this. Definitely not in public.

He pulls away slowly, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he goes. He’s not scowling like he was moments ago, but he’s also not the cute, smiley Jimin he was for the better part of the day.

And you? You’re honestly struggling to breathe. A kiss is a surprise itself but a kiss like that is not something that’s easy to survive. You’re well aware that you’re practically panting because of him but it’s hardly something you can hide. You’re affected and you’re going to be affected, no matter how embarrassed you are about it.

“If you’re going to kiss me,” his voice is low, much lower than before and it’s not helping your situation at all. “You should kiss me like you mean it.”

Fuck everything.

You grab his shirt and pull him towards you once again.

Life works in mysterious ways. Just this morning, you were a regular tourist, doing regular tourist things, sticking to your itinerary as you try to cram all of Paris into one week. And now? Now you’re pressed up against a wall of a random building in a part of town you haven’t ventured into before, making out with the hottest guy you have ever met, who is also pretty much still a stranger.

You don’t even care about how uncomfortable you are in this position – him kissing you makes it all better, very literally. He is a marvelous kisser – hungry, but not overpowering, with lips for days. He smells of cologne you have never smelt before but somehow know you won’t be able to forget anytime soon. Even the soft cotton of his white shirt that your hand is digging into feels heavenly.

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. All you can focus on is Jimin, to the point of even almost managing to ignore a whistle directed towards the two of you.

You’ve had it coming, really – almost dry humping in the middle of the street. When Jimin starts to pull away, probably because of the wolf whistle, you still chase after him, desperately trying to keep your lips stuck together. He still moves away but not too far – he nuzzles into your neck, leaving you gasping for air at the feel of his lips attacking your neck.

Is it too far? Maybe. But too far is the exact direction in which you want to go.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” you suggest. You’ve never directly propositioned sex to someone you weren’t in a relationship with and while you were internally panicking, you also know he probably won’t refuse you. Unless the thing you’re feeling against your thigh is his phone and not him being happy to see you. “My airnbn is a bit far but we can go there?” you suggest, not wanting to be too direct and invite yourself to his place. Honestly, you’d even go into a public toilet at this point, but you’ll keep that bit of information to yourself.

He doesn’t respond immediately and you would have worried about it, if he wasn’t preoccupied with biting your neck, with enough force to leave marks and make you want to crumble. You shudder, actually shudder with pleasure as you feel his tongue run over your skin. “The place I’m staying at is just a few minutes away,” he finally speaks up, stepping away from you for the first time in what feels like forever. “Do you want to go there?” he asks.

The way he looks at you tells you he’s asking you more than to just go over to the place he’s staying at. You know it, he knows it. Even though it was your suggestion, he is still checking in with you, despite probably already knowing that you’d agree to pretty much anything. You laugh at his question.

“Jimin… I’m… I’m more than fine with going to your place, yeah,” you settled for that. Letting him know that you’d let him fuck you in the middle of the street, right here, right now, might be a bit too forward of you. Incredibly accurate but perhaps too forward.

The beaming smile you get from him when you agree serves like a confirmation to yourself that no, this is absolutely not a bad idea. This is everything you’ve hoped for but didn’t think would happen. This is the brief romance that novels are written about, a story you might remember when 30 years from now, your 20something-year-old daughter goes on her first trip to Paris and you remember him. Jimin will be your story, one that you might revisit often, depending on how the night ends.

Taking your hand in his, he leads the way and you follow blindly, enjoying his touch even during simple handholding. You want to do more, so much more, but if you do, you’ll never get to your end destination. Jimin must have sensed that, because the two of you are walking faster than you did this whole day – now you actually have a goal in mind. And what a goal that will be.

“Not to bring the mood down but we could have been going to your place a lot sooner if you’d kissed me back in the club,” you admit. Maybe that was a little bit unnecessary but you want to break the silence between you – and if you can compliment him in the process, why not?

“Hmm, maybe,” he sighs, suddenly letting go of your hand, only to hug you around the waist and pull you into his side, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re not the only one that was worried about misreading some signals. I wanted to be sure, so I consciously waited for you to do something.”

“Thank fuck I did because that was a close one,” you laugh in disbelief, amazed to know how close you were to this simply never happening.

“Not gonna lie, I was worried,” he laughs too, giving you another quick peck. You’re positive that you’re blushing again. Every time he kisses you, your stomach does somersaults, excited at the thought of him wanting to kiss you as much as you want to kiss him. Which is a lot. More than a lot. “I’m glad you mustered the courage to kiss a guy that’s quite obviously wanted to kiss you all afternoon.”

“For future notice – be more direct,” you warn him through laughter. The lucky girl who gets to experience him next deserves to be spared the inner turmoil you’ve went through. He spent the entire night dancing on the line between being very direct and not direct enough. One step in either direction would have settled your dilemma, so hopefully the next person will have more luck.

“I’m a bit preoccupied with you right now, thanks,” he chuckles as he sneaks his hand down to your ass and squeezes it shamelessly. You jump up in surprise but don’t feel particularly troubled about being in public, seeing as there is no public around you, at all. It’s just the two of you, walking along the river, the boats moored along the way seemingly empty. Feeling brave, braver than you ever remember feeling, you’re the one who initiates the kiss this time, making sure to show him how much you want this. You move slowly, enjoy the feeling of taking the lead and the lazy movements of your tongues, interrupted only when you feel the need to bite his bottom lip, which is way more often than you’d be willing to admit. Somehow, you once again end up being sandwiched between him and the half wall behind you. Seizing the opportunity, you sit on the half wall, pulling Jimin towards you by the belt – his hands find their way to your waist as he situates himself between your legs. This time around you’re sure it’s not his phone you’re feeling. It’s a very prominent bulge, noticeable enough to make you salivate at the very thought of what’s hidden. You’re not the only one acting braver – for the first time tonight, Jimin’s hands find their way under your shirt, eliciting goosebumps on your back almost immediately.

It’s when his fingers move to the front and graze your bra that you remember the two of you are still very much out in the open. And while at this point you wouldn’t particularly mind letting him have you here and now, the last thing you want to add to your Paris story is being arrested for indecent exposure.

“If you keep kissing me like this, we’ll never get to your place,” you warn him and contradict yourself immediately, attacking his neck with bites that make him sigh and shudder.

“Thank fuck we’re already here.”

You reluctantly detach yourself from his neck, looking around in confusion – you don’t see a house around you, at all. There’s nothing but the walkway and the park across the street. And as much as you like Jimin, you’re not going to fuck him on a bench which he sleeps on. He sees your confusion and nods towards the river. It takes you a bit too long to connect the dots.

“You’ve rented a houseboat?!” you ask in surprise and he gives you a quick kiss, pulling away with a smile.

“Of course,” he chuckles. “Hotels are boring. Boats are awesome.”

“Who even rents a boathouse?” you ask in wonder, all the while feeling slightly pissed at yourself because why the hell didn’t you think of that? It sure would beat your tiny airbnb, with a building that has no damn stairs – nothing but an elevator. Why would you be locked in such a claustrophobic space when you can have a damn boat? Lesson learned.

“I do,” he smirks at you. “And tonight, I’m going to fuck a very beautiful girl on that boat. So I guess it was a good call. Don’t you agree?”

“Yep. Wholeheartedly. You win.”

You know you’re going to die of embarrassment when he realizes just how wet he’s made you but you’re past the point of caring. With the words he says and the way he kisses you, you and your pussy never stood a chance.

Before you can kiss him again and prolong the wait, he takes your hand and leads the way, first down a set of concrete stairs and then towards the second houseboat in a row; it’s close to the ones on its side, but not too close for comfort. Climbing up the stairs that lead to the impromptu balcony on the boat, you immediately realize the appeal of choosing housing like this – once you can take your eyes away from Jimin’s ass, that is. No, once you are not looking at it, you can appreciate the view the boat has – you can even see the Eiffel tower, a bit down the river. The deck has a huge table, a few chairs and way more plants that a boat deck needs. It looks comfortable, beautiful and with how easily accessible it is, just a bit dangerous. All the words you can use to describe the man who is now kissing your neck, standing behind you as you reach and lean yourself on the boat rail, hoping it is safe.

“I see you’re an exhibitionist,” you laugh when he pulls you back so that your ass is right against his crotch and good god, you can feel how hard he is as he rolls his hips against you.

“No. Maybe just a little,” he chuckles. You laugh too, until you feel one of his hands leave your hips and reach for the button on your jeans. You gulp, eyes widening and as if he can sense your alert, he doesn’t unbutton them immediately. “You?” he asks. God, consent is so fucking sexy.

You’ve never dabbled in it, never really thought about it either but now, in this predicament? “Maybe just a little,” your voice is low as you give him permission. You weren’t joking when you thought that he can do anything he wants, were you? It doesn’t matter, because you said yes and holy fuck, his hand is going down your pants.

You jolt immediately and how could you not, when he went straight for your clit, right off the bat. Jimin does not play around, that much is obvious. You can only pray the fence is secure enough to keep you out of the water.

“Didn’t think you’d be this turned on by foreplay in public,” he laughs directly in your ear because the moment he ran his fingers against your slit, you threw your head back to lean onto him more, afraid of your legs actually turning into jelly because of him. “I’m proven wrong.”

“You don’t know me well enough to assume my sexual preferences,” somehow, you manage to laugh and remain sassy, thought that is cut short the moment he returns his attention to your clit, circling it very, very slowly. “But I suppose you found out some.”

“And I have the whole night to learn, don’t I, Y/N?”

“You do,” you bite your lip to hold back a moan because he started rubbing his fingers against you, the sudden change from slow to fast catching you off guard.

“You don’t have to keep quiet baby,” he presses a quick kiss against your neck, pushing you more into the rail as he rubs himself against your ass in a manner that almost has you begging for more. You are, internally, but not aloud. Not yet, at least. “I don’t think anyone could hear you down here. And I know I want to.”

“Duly noted,” you moan out because he presses his fingers into you harder – with the pressure and the speed, you know you’re going to fall apart way sooner than you’d though.

There has to be some flaw, right? He cannot be this perfect, no human being can be this perfect. If you were to stick around long enough, maybe you’d find a personality trait of his that makes him less perfect than what he is now, in your eyes, but you won’t be staying long enough to find out. For tonight, you’re more than fine with letting him be your little perfection.

“Let’s go inside?” he suggests as he drags his hand away from you and that is by far the worst thing he had done the whole night. You never want him to stop touching you, but that can be arranged at a more appropriate location. You nod, or so you think you do, unsure of your movements and thoughts, and you let him pull you by the hand and towards the door, pausing to fumble with the keys.

He opens the door and you stumble inside as he puts his bag on a hallway table – you choose to throw yours on the ground, waiting for him to turn on the lights. The moment you can see him clearly, the passion takes over you.

Driven by it, you all but slam him into the wall, almost laughing as his eyes widen in surprise. You don’t though – you don’t laugh, you don’t say anything. You simply reach for the hem of his shirt and lift it up slowly, making sure that your fingers cross every inch of skin you uncover. Seeing him shiver is worth the torture you’re putting yourself through, because a part of you wants to drop to the floor and start unbuckling his belt. You fight your own instincts, wanting and hoping to give him at least a fraction of the pleasure he had given you just moments ago.

Soft to the touch but very well defined, his body is a work of art that could rival those that you have spent the last few days observing. The tattoo you discover on his ribs serves as a perfect imperfection, a blemish on the canvas that somehow looks so right. Gulping, you let him take off his shirt and as soon as he does, you’re against him, kissing those lips of his again.

You don’t stay there long – slowly traveling under his chin, down his neck and all over his chest, staying there long enough, pressing soft kisses and licks until he is properly panting. When his hips roll, subconsciously looking for any kind of friction, you decide to move further down, slowly kissing a trail down his stomach, looking up at him, enjoying the sight of him so visibly… distraught. The moment your eyes meet, he closes his. And now you know you’re doing it right, if for the first time he is the one afraid of eye contact and how deadly it can be.

“You’re killing me,” he chuckles nervously, his voice breathless. And you simply smile, slowly unbuckling his belt and pushing the pants down to his knees as slow as you possibly can. You want to offer a remark about how he’s clearly enjoying it but his cock is one major distraction, in the best way possible.

He’s hard and ready, the sight filling you with instant pride because you know that you did that. You made him like this. A little bit pliant, a little bit breathless and very much not ready for what’s about to come. He’s hard, twitching under your gaze, making your mouth water. You still take it slow, enjoying the pace set to tease him – slowly licking the tip of his dick, smiling as you watch his Adam’s apple bob from above you – he still can’t look at you.

“I love how you’ve been staring me down the whole night and now you can’t handle looking at me,” you admit as you slowly drag your hand up and down his cock. Of course, now he opens his eyes and looks down on you but the lump he swallows shows you that even though he responed to your challenge, he is still very much affected and you’re living for it.

“I see you like to tease,” is what he says, making you smile.

“Very much,” you nod, giving him a quick lick that is followed by another muffled curse coming from him. “But I can be kind too,” you conclude, before finally taking him into your mouth properly.

It’s a bit of a challenge but you are more than happy to take it, slowly sinking your mouth up and down his dick, enjoying the symphony of noises that is coming from him. Every sigh, every curse, every moan – it all just makes you even more adamant to give him the best head of his life.

“Fuck Y/N,” he barely manages to say, moaning as you speed up your movements. He gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly starts guiding you faster, eyeing your reaction, despite being momentarily distracted by the sight of you taking all of him into your mouth. “Fuck, you look so… You’re gonna make me come,” he lets out a slightly panicked laughter, gently pushing you away from him, to which you pout. Despite not being that big on blowjobs, giving one to Jimin felt somewhat like a privilege and you wouldn’t admit that lightly. Not wanting to stop completely, you squeeze him in your hand, slowly moving up and down, watching as he goes through another crisis. “Y/N,” he laughs in warning, making you stop, albeit reluctantly.

“Isn’t it the point to make you come?” you ask but still stand up when his hands grab yours by the elbows and he lifts you up to stand next to him.

“Absolutely,” his eyes don’t leave your lips and he gives you a quick kiss, biting into your bottom lip hard enough to earn a moan. “But not like that, not before I fuck you. Not before I have my way with you.”

The smile on his face looks sinister enough to make you even wetter than you were moments ago. He doesn’t sound like a man who makes promises lightly and you get your confirmation as he puts his hands on your hips and starts pushing you back towards the room behind you. You’re too fucked out to notice anything other than the fairly modern design of the furniture around you. Before you can notice anything in particular, your ass slams into a hard surface and you jump up, letting him settle between your legs again and kiss you even harder than he did all night.

You’re the target now, and good god, you’re loving it. His lips alter between being gentle and harsh, kissing you with so much passion before biting, as if he wants to show you that he’s the one in charge. And you let him. By god, you let him.

He takes your shirt and bra off quickly, not wanting to drag it out like you did, but the moment you’re half naked before his eyes, he slows down. If him staring you down made you feel nervous before, you are positively burning right now because he is eating you up. He doesn’t even have to touch you – just the sight of him, looking like he’s about to ruin you is enough to cause goosebumps to form all over your body. He comes closer, attaching his lips to your chest. You are losing your mind because he is purposely slow, kissing you all over before finally attaching his lips to your nipple, taking it into his mouth and slowly rolling his tongue against it. You swear you can feel him smiling, but you’re too far gone to check – especially not when his hand reaches for your other breast, squeezing it shamelessly. You’ve been able to control your noises for a little while, but the moment his teeth come out to play, you’re a goner. With his fingers and lips moving at the same time, you can only moan, reaching towards something, anything to hold and settling for his hair. You grip it, perhaps a bit too harshly if his moan is anything to go by – but he doesn’t stop you. In fact, he simply sucks harder, making you arch your back towards him.

He’ll ruin you. He will absolutely ruin you and you are perfectly fine with it.

After what feels like an eternity, he detaches his mouth away from you and your eyes meet. He truly is a sight for sore eyes, especially now when he looks so blissfully fucked out. His hair is a mess, his lips red from all the kissing and sucking, his torso a work of art. He looks so fucking hot, you moan. At the very sight of him, you moan. He’s not touching you, he’s not teasing you, he’s not doing anything but looking at you and that is enough to make you moan, moan and rut your hips in his direction, looking for friction which you find in the form of his thigh. He lets you, he lets you move against him. Your moment of pleasure doesn’t last long, because he steps back, fumbling to unbutton your jeans. You lay down, ignoring the cold of the table against your naked back, lifting your hips to help him undress you completely. Unlike the slow, sensual moves that you used on him, he is quick, taking them off as fast as he possibly can. When you’re left in nothing but your underwear, that is when he slows down again, crouching down out of your sight.

“Fuck!” you gasp in surprise when you feel him nuzzling his nose against your clothed center – you can feel how wet you are and you know, you know he can smell it, feel it, see it and you absolutely do not care. In fact, you’re even more turned on by the thought of it – he clearly is enjoying it and you want nothing more than to let him know how good he’s making you feel.

He doesn’t torture you for too long and other than a muffled curse, he doesn’t comment on how wet you are for him. Instead, he goes right down to business, using his fingers to move your underwear to the side and he immediately attaches himself to your clit, sucking on it harshly, with the same fervor as when he was sucking on your nipples.  

“Fuck, Jimin!” you moan out, gripping his hair with all the strength you have, knowing that that must have hurt – again, he shows no signs of having a problem with it. Fuck, he probably even likes it.

“What is it baby?” he asks, not waiting for your response and instead choosing to lick up your center. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you manage to reply, momentarily distracted by the feel of his finger sinking into you.

“If you let me, I’ll eat you out for hours tomorrow morning,” he tells you, pausing to bite on your thigh, a bite that you know will leave teeth marks, but you don’t protest. “As much as I’d be willing to do it for hours right now, I really need you on my cock.”

“Yeah, okay,” you laugh, biting your lip at the feel of him sinking another finger into you, slowly dragging them in and out as he stands up, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. You say nothing more – you couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You move your hips in time with his fingers, riding them like you would, and hopefully will, ride his dick in a matter of moments.

“Bedroom?” he suggests as he stops his assault on you. You nod, somehow managing to sit up, nearly laughing at the sight of him. Half naked, with his jeans still hanging right above his knees, his member standing up proudly. How he could wobble you towards the table in that state is beyond you. You don’t have a chance to ask, too distracted with the sight of him licking his fingers, all while looking directly into your eyes. He’ll be the death of you, that’s for sure.

You stand up, leaning against the table as he loses the last articles of his clothing – you barely have the time to take a few deep breaths before he starts kissing you again, his tongue overpowering yours as you moan at the taste of him. You don’t bother opening your eyes, letting him lead you towards the bedroom, trusting him that you won’t end up overboard, hoping that if you do, you wouldn’t be too turned on to notice. You hit a wall and a door on your way there, giggling by the time he is pushing you onto a bed, finally letting you breathe. Standing above you, he somehow manages to look both menacing and hot at the same time. His eyes tell you to wait, which you gladly do, watching him as you settle yourself on top of the covers. You choke on your own breath when you notice his ass, for the first time without the barrier of skintight jeans – it’s a sight, alright. You watch as he fumbles through his suitcase, smiling at him when he turns around, waving a condom at you.

No matter how much you’re into him, there’s no way he’s fucking you without protection. You’re glad he’s on the same page, not even stopping to suggest going bare. While you’d like that and you’re guessing so would he, it’s simply not happening. He walks towards you, not putting the condom on immediately, instead choosing to give his member a few strokes, enjoying the view of you on his bed, naked and waiting. Though your lip bite was an unconscious reaction at the sight before you, he is affected, grunting at the sight – the moment the condom is covering his dick, he is rushing to get on top of you, finally letting you feel his whole body against your own.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you before kissing you passionately, flicking his tongue slowly as he settles between your legs. He doesn’t enter you immediately, instead choosing to grind onto you, making the both of you moan into the kiss. You’re the one who pulls away, if only for a moment.

“Please,” you moan out, enjoying the feel of his dick rubbing against you, pushing you closer to the edge – too close, considering you didn’t even have a chance to feel him inside of you. “Please just fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he gives you a quick kiss before finally sliding into you. Slowly and with ease, he fills you up in a way that makes you moan – louder than you did the whole night, feeling absolutely shameless. You don’t care, you don’t care where you are or who can hear you, if anyone – he feels that damn good.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you gasp, taken by surprise with him slowly rolling his hips into you. It’s as if he can tell you need no more time to adjust to him, he starts moving a bit faster with each roll of his hips, making you curse out as you grab onto him, your fingers digging into his skin. It seems he enjoys you being rough with him, showing him how good he’s making you feel because he isn’t complaining and you know it has to hurt. He wastes no time, dipping down to take your nipple into his mouth, never stopping his dick from moving in and out of you in the best of ways.

“God,you’re so tight baby!” he grunts as his thrusts become harder and faster, so much so that you faintly notice the sound of the bed thumping into something, most likely the wall. You don’t care, you really don’t – you pull him closer to you, blindly reaching for his lips, enjoying the way he overpowers your senses, even smell - he smells like sex and expensive cologne, the most mouthwatering scent you’ve ever had the pleasure of smelling. The moment your lips touch, you feel his hand graze your clit, eliciting a particularly loud moan for you. Unable to focus on anything, you give into pleasure and let him do whatever he wants with you, the onslaught on your senses killing the little sanity you had left.

You dare and think it can’t get any better than this and right as you do, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, pinching your clit between his fingers at the same time. You weren’t ready – you weren’t ready for it at all and with his actions catching you by surprise, you lose the little control you’ve had, coming hard. The orgasm washes over you stronger than any orgasm in your recent memory, making you gasp and moan, holding onto him with all the strength your body has left. He is losing his cool too – his hands give in and he’s pressed up against you completely, lips grazing your ear. “Just like that, come all over my cock,” he urges you through your high, his words making it even harder for you to calm down.

Body shivering, you somehow calm down your breathing – it’s a challenge, seeing as he still hasn’t stopped moving completely. He slowed down enough not to send you in complete overdrive too soon. Even his consideration is a turn on – almost as strong of a turn on as him using your body to pleasure himself, still rolling his hips into you and moaning softly, directly into your ear, the moan turning more high pitched when he feels your nails running up and down his back.

Turning your head towards him, you search for his lips. He kisses you eagerly, stilling himself inside of you for a moment, as if he wants to focus on the kiss and kiss alone. Slowly, he moves away from you and leans back, running his hand up your thigh. He raises his eyebrows as he pushes your leg up, asking you for permission. You nod, moaning as he moves your leg towards the side. Quickly, you turn to your side completely and judging by the moan he lets out, that’s exactly what he needed you to do.

You want to do more, you do. You want to ride him till you can no longer move but he is so damn overwhelming, all you can do right now is just… take it. And you’re not complaining. Slowly but surely, the pleasure builds up again and you realize there’s a strong chance you’ll come again. Suddenly brave again, you look at him, directly at him, as you put a hand between your legs and start rubbing yourself. The moment he realizes what you’re doing, he looks down, lifting your leg up so that he can have a better view. “Fuck,” is all he says, followed by the sexiest groan you have ever heard a man make.

“I’m so close,” you warn him, wanting to feel all of it again but somehow not wanting it to end.

“Come on baby, come for me again,” he urges you on. As much as you want to, you really don’t want it to be over anytime soon - the buildup was so damn hot and you simply don’t want to stop. Thinking about his earlier promise about eating you out for hours is what pushes you over the edge. Feeling Jimin and think of the dirty words he whispered in your ear is enough for you to come again, your entire body shivering with pure pleasure. Looking up at him, you notice the way his face scrunches, the way his voice is deeper and his moans never stopping… he takes over you again.

“I’m going to come,” he warns you, making you remember that he can’t come inside of you and fill you up, which is something you would really, really like. You settle for the next best thing.

“Come on me,” you tell him, moving your leg out of his still firm grip, and spreading your legs as much as possible, now having a perfect view of him slamming into you, much faster than he did before. “Come anywhere you want,” you urge him, biting your lip as his hips lose rhythm at your suggestion. In the speed of light, he slips out of you, leaving you empty and wanting more, more of him, more of his dick, more of anything he’d be willing to give you. You watch as he takes the condom off in the speed of light, still rubbing yourself and ignoring the overstimulation you are feeling, absolutely urged by the hottest sight you have seen in your entire life: Jimin, stroking himself with a firm grip, moaning loudly as he closes his eyes, his face scrunched in pleasure.

You watch in awe as he finishes all over you, the streaks of his cum reaching all the way up to your breasts. You have never, never in your entire life, experienced anything hotter than this. You know now, there is nothing hotter than watching Jimin orgasm. And you have never in your miserable life had sex nearly as good as the one you had now.

Jimin’s body gives up and he falls directly on top of you, making you chuckle. Your hands roam his back, as if you are comforting him through the aftermath, completely ignoring the fact that his now softening member is still rubbing against you. Both of you are sweaty, your bodies covered in his cum but you don’t care and neither does he. Once he is finally able to move, he simply leans a bit to the side, just so that he can look at you. And he does. With the brightest, sweetest smile that shouldn’t belong to a man who fucked you as hard as he just did.

“Hi,” you speak up first, shocked at how rough your voice sounds. Perhaps you were a bit louder than you thought you were. He smiles and you feel yourself melting again, accepting that you are whipped for him, way more whipped than you should be for someone you barely know. He doesn’t make it any easier on you when he leans in for a kiss, his lips slow and lazy and yours following suit, ignoring the butterflies that are going berserk in your stomach again. You ignore it all, shutting your brain off and enjoying the post sex glow that he is radiating with.

He pulls away but not before caressing your face and pushing hair behind your ear – a very sweet action for someone whose mouth can do all those dirty, lovely things.

“That was… wow,” he admits and for the first time since you’ve met him, you think you see a blush on his face – a blush that isn’t caused by alcohol, that is. Is he suddenly shy? Is it the post sex blush? You don’t know and you don’t care, as long as you can keep looking at him.

“Wow seems appropriate,” you agree, joining in his laughter. He is still chuckling as he nuzzles into your neck, giving you a few quick pecks before pulling away.

“Do you want to stay the night?” he raises his eyebrows, giving you a way out if you don’t want to take him up on his earlier offer. “I could call you a cab or even walk you back to your place. I’d like you to stay the night though.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can use my legs at the moment.”

It wasn’t supposed to be such a funny remark but for some reason, he laughs hard and after fighting it for a few seconds, you can’t help but join in. If you look past his hotness and the ease with which he communicates with people, he really does have a comfortable aura around him – if he laughs, it’s contagious and you don’t mind joining in.

The two of you calm down and after a few moments of silence, he runs his hand through your hair again, pushing it away from your face as his eyes focus on different parts of it – first your eyes, then your lips, then your cheeks. It looks as if he is trying to memorize you and to that you can relate because this is one night you’d never want to forget, not one part of it. And not one part of him. “Let’s go and get cleaned up?” he suggests.

You’ve lost count of how many times you have let him take you by the hand and lead the way for the both of you. You are yet to regret those decisions, gladly letting him lead the way now, knowing that wherever he takes you… it’s going to be good.

You wake up feeling content, well rested and sore, all at once. With a dumb smile on your face, you giggle and bury your face in the pillow – it smells of him, making your memories of the night before even more vivid.

His promise of devoting hours to you and your body this morning did not wait until dawn. It all occurred the night before, with you still kissing one another by the time sun had started to rise and the birds had started chirping.

It all comes back to you in flashes, the bath you took together, the way he caressed your skin as he was washing you up, before his hands went a bit further south. Both the sweet words and the dirty talk are engraved in your mind forever, just like the way he made you feel all of last night.

You knew it before, you’re sure of it now – he has ruined you. He has absolutely ruined you, in the best way possible. And you don’t want it to end.

You knew it had an expiration date. This is a trip romance – short, sweet, steamy and memorable. It had an expiration date the moment the two of you shared the first smiles in front of ‘Shakespeare and company’. While the thought of it does leave a bitter taste in your mouth, you’re a big girl and you can live with it. Smiling, you decide to enjoy the morning, or early afternoon, with Jimin. You’ll deal with the negative side effects later.

“Afternoon, beautiful,” you hear him, turning around towards the direction his voice is coming from – he is leaning against the doorway, smiling at you, looking too hot for his own good with gray sweatpants, a white shirt and a part of his dark hair pulled back in a makeshift bun. “Did you sleep well?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he smiles as you close your eyes and shamelessly yawn, remembering a second too late that you should put a hand over your mouth. You open your eyes just in time to see him sitting down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your naked thigh and slowly moving it up and down your skin. It’s not as sexual as his touches were last night – in fact, this feels more comforting than anything else. “How long was I out? Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I slept like a log. And it’s 2PM now, so you’ve had a few hours.”

“2PM?” you’re shocked to realized you’ve already lost half the day. It was very much worth it, though.

“You have somewhere to be?” he teases you, probably unaware how he makes the butterflies in your stomach go nuts. You have a sneaky suspicion that he’s not aware of your dilemma – do you go, do you stay? Does he want you to go or does he want you to stay? What are you even supposed to say now?

“No, not really,” you shrug, cowardly throwing the ball into his court. You’ll admit it, you’re a whimp and you are more than happy to let him decide if you should be on your way or stick around a bit longer.

“Well, I’ve made us some quick lunch. I wanted to order something but wasn’t sure if you’d want to stick around for food… so I figured I’ll make something and eat both portions if you bolt,” he admits through laughter and you’re immediately relieved – you weren’t the only one uncertain about everything.

“I don’t have to bolt. And I’m also kind of starving,” you admit, shuddering when you remember that the last thing you ate was a croissant almost a full day ago – you’re absolutely starving.

“We can eat on the deck if you want?” he suggest, before breaking out into a sudden smile.

“What?” you ask, confused with how he’s looking at you. You either have something on your face or he’s going to make this whole thing 20 times more difficult and you’re afraid the second situation is more likely.

“Nothing. You’re just beautiful like that,” he shrugs as you let him run his hands through your hair.

“Half-dead and messy looking? I’m sure I am,” you roll your eyes.

“Not messy. Sexy,” he corrects you, the same way he did last night. With a sigh, he pulls away and stands up. “I’m starving too, so you’d better hurry up if you don’t want me eating you up instead.”

“I don’t think I’d mind that, to be honest,” you admit, hiding your face in his pillow, knowing that you no longer have the dark to hide the blush that appears whenever you say something a bit more straightforward.

You expected him to say something or maybe laugh – you absolutely didn’t expect to feel his teeth on your right ass cheek. You jump up in surprise, nearly hitting him in the head when your leg jerks, but that only makes him laugh. You’re smiling way too wide for someone who’s just been bitten on the ass and you decide to scream into the pillow once he’s away enough not to hear it.

“Your clothes and underwear are dry and clean but feel free to steal that shirt from me,” he winks at you. “I’ll wait on the deck.”

With that, he leaves you alone to get dressed, try to gather your thoughts and maybe, just maybe, control your emotions a little bit. It would have been a lot easier if he was the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kind of guy but surprise, he’s not! No, he fucked you like a full-fledged sex god, giving you the best night of your life, while caring enough to throw your clothes into the washer and drier and even wanting to feed you the next day. Nope, still no flaws in sight for Park Jimin.

You wash up quickly, slapping yourself a few times for good measure, hoping to calm yourself down enough to be able to turn around and leave very soon. You still don’t know if it had worked but your bag is packed and you join him on the deck, dressed in your jeans and the shirt he wore yesterday that he generously let you sleep in and steal for good.

He doesn’t notice you immediately, leaned back in the chair with his eyes closed. The sight of him sitting like that, with his dark hair pulled back and tied, his neck in full view and all but glowing in the sunlight makes you want to cry. The man is actually so goddamn pretty it almost brings tears to your eyes. It doesn’t help when he notices you and smiles at you, pointing at the two bowls set on the table.

“I know it’s just noodles but honestly, I’m too pretty to know how to cook,” he explains as you take a seat. You burst out laughing at his comment.

“Cocky yet very true,” you nod in appreciation. “Don’t worry, I love ramen.”

“It’s lame but I at least I’ve added poached eggs,” he tells you, looking oh so proud about adding an extra ingredient.

“Nothing beats instant ramen,” you reassure him. “It smells of youth, not having enough money and artificial flavoring. I’ve never felt more at home,” this time around, it’s he who laughs, wishing you a good meal as the both of you dig into the food. You weren’t lying when you said it’s more than okay – you just need some food in the belly and it’s not like you’ve expected him to greet you with a full course meal. It’s the thought that counts and it’s more than enough. Actually, it might even be too much.

Halfway through your lunch, the silence between you turns slightly uncomfortable. It isn’t anything that either one of you did – it’s just the entire situation. The clock is ticking, the both of you know it and neither one of you is quite sure how to act about it. You can’t stay here for another day, even if you wanted to – your stuff and a huge chunk of your money is back at your airbnb. Even with that little detail aside, you’re not even sure if you want to say – not to mention, if he wants you to stay or not.

But it feels… wrong. It feels wrong to leave just like that, pretending like he hadn’t given you an amazing night. Not only was the sex mind-blowingly good… even before that, he was a perfect travel partner yesterday. He’s good company and knowing you’ll be saying goodbye to all of that… it doesn’t sit well with you.

Despite avoiding eye contact for a few minutes now, you fail and the moment your eyes meet from across the table, you know you’ve reached that page of the little novella the two of you wrote. He knows it too, setting away his chopsticks, sighing as he leans back into the chair. You say nothing, watching him as he stares you down, slowly shaking his head.

“I don’t want this to end,” he admits. You stay silent, following his suit as you put away your own chopsticks and lean back into the chair, completely shutting down the rest of the world – you no longer hear the birds or passing boats. You don’t see the tourists walking along the river, you don’t even feel the subtle waves that gently sway the boat you’re on – you can only focus on him, on his face, on the way he looks bothered by this. “It feels wrong to end this but at the same time, doesn’t it feel like the only proper way to go about it? Am I making any sense?” he asks, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah,” you nod immediately, assuring him that you do understand it. “It feels good, it feels right, like it would be a shame to walk away from but… what else can be done?”

“Exactly,” he agrees, leaning towards you. “It feels equally right and wrong. What are we going to do?”

You can go back to get your stuff and spend the rest of the trip here with him. You can exchange numbers and meet up back home. It could lead to something beautiful, a continuation of a marvelous chapter one, just as easily as it can lead to a complete disaster. Life’s unpredictable and you don’t know if it’s worth it to possibly ruin this amazing… encounter.

How can you even find an answer to that? Not like this whole thing hasn’t been…

“You believe in destiny, don’t you?” you ask him, suddenly putting two and two together, smiling at the confused nod he gives you. “We met here so many times. Different days, different times, we somehow ended up together. Who’s to say that won’t happen again?” you ask.

“What are you suggesting here? To… see if we meet again?”

“Exactly,” you nod, feeling proud of the solution you’ve come up with. “You believe in destiny and I don’t. If we meet again, I’d be willing to question that belief. We go our separate ways. If it ends up being a onetime encounter, we’ll remember it with smiles on our faces. And if we meet…”

“I don’t let you walk away again,” he smirks at you. You don’t say anything as that smirk turns into a genuine, real smile. He means it, he actually means it. And if you meet him again… you will too. “What happens if we run into each other back home?” he asks.

You remember how you talked last night, realizing that the two of you were hanging around the same places before, perhaps even at the same time. It made you wonder how many times you have passed one another, without a second glance, thinking of other things, of other people. Running into him back home seems more likely than seeing him again here in Paris.

“Then we say hello and see where that takes us,” you answer adamantly.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

He offers you his hand from across the table and you shake it firmly, suddenly a lot more hopeful than you were moments ago. No, you don’t believe in destiny but if there’s someone that could make you question that, it’s Park Jimin himself.

“Fucking hell,” you curse under your breath as you wrestle your way through the crowd – for the first time since you’ve arrived in Paris, you were stuck in the metro during rush hour and you have never felt so many backpacks smacking your face in such a short amount of time.

Trying to get Google Maps on, you make your way up the stairs and into fresh air, taking a deep breath when you do. If your phone is correct and based on your previous experiences, it’s probably not, you’re a five minute walk away from the Luxembourg Gardens.  A perfect way to end your last full day in Paris – outside and hopefully away from any kind of crowd.

You walk in the direction your navigation deems right, checking every few seconds if it had started spinning out of control like it did yesterday – there is nothing more stressful than your GPS telling you to turn right and once you do, immediately telling you to take a sharp left.

It’s the smell that makes you take a detour – it’s always the smell. Sure, you could continue to sheepishly follow your navigation but when the smell of freshly baked pastry smacks you in the face, you know where you’re heading. The bakery is fairly empty and you test your poor French as you order a plain croissant.

Damn him and his plain croissants. Something that should be so simple and so irrelevant now irks you, almost to the point of you changing your order to a chocolate one. You don’t, already knowing that you’re nowhere near proficient enough in French to explain your change of heart.

The lady behind the counter is a bit of a bitch, not waiting for you to put your wallet away before she hands you your meal, giving you a dirty look when it takes you a second too long to take it from her. Offering her a sour, kiss-my-ass smile, you take the pastry and head towards the door, now trying to juggle your food, phone, wallet and the door handle, all at once.

You’ve just managed to close the door behind you and turn around, nearly avoiding a collision.

“Jesus Christ!” you gasp, gripping your phone and the pastry harder, stopping them from flying out of your hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!”

Your heart stops at the sound of his voice. You slowly look up, scared of both confirming and denying your suspicions, unsure which one would hurt more – him being here or him being a product of your imagination. You know that voice and you know it well.

It’s him, looking panicked and checking if you have a hold on your things. “I’m sorry, I…” he goes mute once his eyes meet yours and he realizes it’s you.

Jimin stares at you, not saying anything. One second before the encounter turns uncomfortable, you watch in amazement as he grins at you, a grin so wide and genuine your heart skips a beat.

“I… I could have dropped my croissant.”

He huffs a small laugh at your horribly timed Vine reference, pursing his lips as he tries to hide his smile – why, you don’t know and don’t care to find out because he can’t do it. He can’t hide his smile and it’s evident that he’s happy to see you. So are you, thanking and cursing at destiny at the same time.

Taking your empty hand in his, he says nothing as he intertwines your fingers and starts walking, slowly leading you away with him. You follow him, desperately thinking of what to say, of what to do but somehow too panicked to actually do anything. It feels like one of you should do something and apparently, he thinks the same because he suddenly stops and turns your way.

He puts his hands on your face, pulling you in for a kiss. The moment your lips are pressed against his, you remember how much you’ve wanted to do this since the last time you’ve kissed him, before walking down the steps of his boathouse. The relief that fills you as he deepens the kiss makes you a reluctant but firm believer in destiny.

No words are needed, you know that now. So when he leans away and smiles at you, you smile back, reaching for his hand again. He leads the way and again you follow, knowing you’re definitely not going to regret it this time either. THE END

[decodingellipses]

Modern Love: He Made Affection Feel Simple

[courtesy of Brian Rea]

"Dating as a transgender woman, in my experience, meant low expectations and casual sex. Then I met Jack."

This piece is part of the Modern Love column at The New York Times

by Denny

My bio on Grindr read: “Be trans friendly. Send face to chat.”

It was difficult to be on a gay hookup app as a trans woman. Most men in my feed desired to only sleep with each other. But I knew there were straight men on Grindr who hungered for a woman like me. I wanted them too.

That’s where I met Jack. At 22, he was a few months older than me, and, other than his age, his entire profile was blank, usually an indicator of a cisgender straight man who was guarded about his attraction to trans women. Typically, the messages I received would start with a vulgar sext, sometimes an unwanted nude photo.

Living in Morningside Heights, I was attending Fordham University for my master’s degree in strategic communication. One night I was up late working when I received a Grindr message from him, a selfie. Amid his light brown hair, two-day scruff and meek gaze, his lacrosse T-shirt stood out to me the most. He looked like a sporty boy I would have crushed on in high school.

He followed up his photo with “Hello.”

Messages in my Grindr inbox tended to cut to the chase: “Down for now?” “Car sesh?” Men who contacted me because they fantasized about trans women made it difficult for me to feel seen as a person in general, let alone a person worthy of respect.

Although my interest was piqued by Jack’s picture, it was his gentleness that drew me in.

Our sporadic small talk was harmless, spanning two months. I brushed him off, but as I commuted to school and spent hours in the library, he was persistent.

“My sex drive is pretty low these days,” I wrote. “Give me a bit and I’ll hit you up.”

“OK.”

When I turned back to my studies, he added, “Just so you know, we can do non-sex things and hang out too. It would be fun.”

This became our pattern: he being distant enough to show interest without pressure, and me appreciating his laxity, given my demanding schoolwork. His ease led me to trust him, so we set up a day to meet.

The first afternoon Jack came over, he admired my bathtub and drank his cup of water with two hands. His poised demeanor in a beige wool peacoat and long scarf reminded me, in a good way, of John Bender in “The Breakfast Club.” In my bedroom, he fixated on my yellow Power Ranger figurines, noticing my framed academic award next to them on the windowsill.

“You went to SUNY Oneonta?” he said. “I went to SUNY Potsdam.”

I pictured my friends who also attended Potsdam eating in the same cafeteria as Jack, getting drunk at the same frat party. Suddenly, the person I’d seen as a stranger now fit into my world.

I imagined what the deer looked like from his dorm room window, roaming the grass at dawn. Or how he spent his day when the school canceled classes because of snow. Or where he would have gone if his parents were able to afford private school.

We sat on my bed, my back leaning against the wall. He slouched his head onto my hip and wrapped his arms around my waist. “This is weird,” I thought. Aside from sexual intimacy, my hookups were typically aromantic, absent of cuddling and expressions of affection.

I kissed him and rolled on top. I took off my shirt and he hugged me tight. His face dug into my chest as he said, “I like you. I think you’re really cool.”

Unsure how I actually felt, I said, “Oh. I think you’re really cool, too.”

The next time I saw Jack, he spent the night at my place. It was then, awake in bed at 4 a.m., that I realized I had never let a guy sleep over before. His heat warmed the bed, so I crept to the bathroom to cool off. I Snapchatted a disoriented selfie to my friends, my hair messy and eyes bloodshot.

“How do you guys do this sleepover thing?” I wrote. “I can’t sleep at all.”

Customarily, my flings with strange men were brief. The men did not take note of my bathtub or my educational history before sex, and they did not linger after.

I came back into bed, disturbed by the rumble of his snoring, but his sleeping face on my pillow struck me. For the first time, the thought of sharing a bed with a man did not come from pure imagination. I now had a real image for this fantasy; I could pretend Jack was my boyfriend, reach for his face and whisper “I love you, good night,” then fall asleep and meet him somewhere in his dream as if we had done this a hundred times before.

The next day, he flew off to see his family for the holidays and the first weeks of the new year.

“merry crimmus,” I texted.

“u too, babygirl,” he replied.

After our sleepover, I didn’t hear from him unless I initiated — an unexpected change. Instead of giving in to my insecurity that the sleepover meant little to him, and therefore I meant little, I imagined other scenarios: him asking me to sleep at his place, for a change, or spontaneously calling me while I’m in line for my morning coffee. But because I had presumed a sex-only expectation from the start, I shamed myself for developing feelings.

“miss u,” he texted one random morning.

“really?”

We stayed in touch and occasionally saw each other, weeks in between. On a hot morning, he snored behind me as I sat on the floor beside my bed, working on my final thesis. He put his hand up to my face, letting me know he was awake. With my eyes on the laptop screen, I took his hand and planted kisses in his palm, wallowing in these ordinary joys — the kind of affection I slowly grew comfortable displaying.

Longing to be more than casual with him, I sought a therapist to guide me through my growing feelings.

Jack’s periodic “miss u” texts progressed with heart emojis, an unprecedented closeness. And I returned the sentiment. It felt thrilling to express my adoration so directly, until the weeks between seeing each other and texting ultimately turned into months of silence I knew to be ghosting.

I relied on Grindr as my safe dock because dating as trans is complicated. Sleeping around was easier for me. I had set the bar low, then met Jack, who saw me as more than a fantasized body, only to have his mysterious exit echo a looming insecurity I avoided for years: Being trans implies I am not real enough to deserve decency.

I broke down in therapy, mustering the courage to say out loud what was undeniably true: “He left me.”

“I don’t mean to put this on you,” my therapist said, “but could him being a cis straight man and you being a trans woman play a part?”

I didn’t want to blame Jack, who showed me a new realm of affection that made desire feel as simple as just a boy and a girl who liked each other. But he made leaving simple, too; all of this could still not be enough.

Deep down, I denied how my mere existence as a trans woman could ever cost him. Jack, in wooing me, nurtured the possibility that my romantic fantasies could come true, that I could be seen as a complex person rather than a fetishized token of someone’s imagination. After being deserted by him, I ruminated on my insecurity that being trans denied me of even a simple goodbye.

And yet I know myself to be real because my transition, as a teenager, required exceptional certainty. Doctors and psychiatrists double-checked my decision constantly.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I repeated, and I became more real each year. With Jack, I felt even realer. Not only had he seen me as a woman, but as a woman worthy of being held.

I could blame my being trans for Jack’s ghosting, but maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe he hated his job. Maybe his family fell apart. Maybe the pleasure we felt together contrasted whatever pain remained of our baggage.

On lonely days, I imagine myself at SUNY Potsdam. At a frat party, I drunkenly dance across from Jack, cheap blue lights grazing the curves of our cheekbones, sweat dripping like cyan fireflies. Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” roars through the party. “Good times never seemed so good,” everyone shouts. “I’ve been inclined to believe they never would.”

I put myself in the cafeteria, where Jack and I approach the salad bar at the same time. When he sees me, he steps back and says, “You go first,” with a grin so big I would need both hands to hold it.

———

Denny is a writer, actor and musician living in New York City.