Hi! My name is Alexis (or Cosmic!) I’m a collage editor who absolutely adores space and Han Jisung 🌌🤍 (Raining Stars is literally my anthem and the theme of this blog if you couldn’t tell lol)
I’m a mostly SKZ centered blog, where I share my own collage edits and custom wallpapers of the members!
My asks are OPEN FOR REQUESTS for custom SKZ collages and wallpapers!
╰┈➤ Drop the SKZ member(s) you’d like a collage of and the photoshoot/aesthetic you’d like for me to use in my asks and I’ll make sure to tag you when it’s posted! :)
I am OVER 21, so some reblogs of art, fics, and other content might be for MATURE audiences. Keep this in mind when interacting with me!
Waterparks, Glass Animals, Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, Conan Gray, Chase Atlantic, Leanna Firestone, Girl in Red, Maisie Peters, Alec Benjamin, Valley, Chloe Moriondo, Chappell Roan, The Neighbourhood, Gracie Abrams, Fall Out Boy, Audrey Hobert, & more!
shows, movies, & anime ༘⋆📼˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
UP, The Amazing Digital Circus, Alice in Borderland, Arcane, Demon Slayer, Dan Da Dan, Stranger Things, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, IT, Spider-Man movies, Hunger Games movies, Scream movies, YOU, A Silent Voice & more!
games & other media ☾⋆⁺₊🎮✩°｡
Danganronpa Series, Genshin Impact, Cookie Run Kingdom, Love & Deepspace, Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream, FNAF Franchise, Undertale, Deltarune, Poppy Playtime, Omori, Animal Crossing New Horizons, Sims 4, Overwatch, & more!
‧₊˚ ┊ pinterest -> @ cosmicluvrrr
‧₊˚ ┊ discord -> @ cosmicluvr
‧₊˚ ┊ links -> my carrd ⨾ my strawpage
AN: i spend a lot of time in stayblr’s discord server and tumblr community page since i’m a mod in both! so if you’re ever looking for me, you can definitely find me there :)
here is a list of all my lovely moots who definitely deserve your follow! :))
Random idea after a talk I had with my gym-going friend, who wondered if he could leg press my weight. Please note i know nothing and I MEAN NOTHING about what weight is a lot or not, i found a random website with tables with age, level and average weight for each exercise and went off of that. So sorry if there are any inaccuracies or weirdness sjkdhfg
Gender Neutral!Reader, Heavy/Big reader, established relationship
Hi hi! 🤭🤗 the first weekend of August is here and the Fanart Friday art you requested last month is completed 🤭. Some of these you probably saw them on social media but there are some I'm posting for the first time here. The theme was "Stray Kids × Airport fashion". 🤗 enjoy
originally posted on kofi, all my links are in the pinned post in my page.
And also yes I did switch back to my old art style mid post, you'll see 😂
Requests I took from tumblr
Kitty sweater Lino for @dangcommaannie 😽
Airport Minnie for @cat-has-arrived
Hyunsung for @cosmicluvrrrrr 😘
Requests I took from Threads
Binnie with a beanie for my dear Strawbinniebby 🤗
Lixxie for my lovely sunflowergirl0915 🤗
Pretty Channie for Rambleswithsel
This "artsy boyfriend at the airport" Hyune for iamcraftish so we can simp toghether about him 🤭
Minnie for kaylanicole0505
Lee Knees ✨️🤭 for my dearest gtwinklely and stay.ing.home
Hannie (feat. Lino) for Hanslucy_ 🤭
Pretty big boy for jubiliife, this is one of my favourite Binnie looks everrrrr
Channie for Jeanny43
Binnie for nini_verse_ 😫 aaaah why is he so handsome (this one has a phone wallpaper version, you can ⬇️ download it for free in my ko-fi
Seungbin for Pochaco real 🤭 also comes with a ⬇️ phone wallpaper that you can download in my ko-fi shop (all links are in my pinned post here in tumblr).
This ICONIC Hyune airport outfit for _no_more_astray_
Speaking of ICONIC Hyune airport fits 😍 this one us for kass (on instagram)
Quokkas.cassette says this isn’t an airport fit, but we all know he’d rock this at the airport 😌 and I agree
Minho and his beloved little rat for fivefootstaytiny 🤭😘
Requests I took from Reddit
Another Hyune 🤭, this one is for princessgojo
Requests I took from X
Hyune agaaaaainnnn 🤭 I love it here 🤭, the first one is for Rosey
and the second one is for my dear lovely skzdex 🤭
Minnie for didiminiverse 🧡
And Minnie for je_je11
Requests I took from Bluesky
Chanlix for lovely bbarbs 🤭🧡
And Innie for myself 🤭
And that's it for Prompt 7: Bias airport fashion. The next one is Prompt 8: Bias sleeping and I'll open requests tonight (EST) on Threads, Bluesky, Tumblr, X and Reddit.
August Requests are open here:
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · AUGUST FANART FRIDAY REQUESTS OPEN - 5 slots left · It is the first weekend of the month so send an ask with your favourite
This is the list of prompts, its not mine, I just found it on Pinterest 🤭😂:
I JUST HAD to collage ot8 for comeback day! i’m in LOVE with the whole album, it might be my favorite of theirs yet! my fav song is way out, but back then isn’t far behind :) it’s been impossible for me to rank them though, since they’re all SUCH bangers 🙂↕️
I do not own or take credit for any of the images used. Reblogs are greatly appreciated :) but PLEASE DO NOT repost or edit my collages on tumblr or other platforms! All of my collages are made on Pinterest (@/cosmicluvrrr)
divider creds: @strangergraphics
taglist: @velocityyx @platypusundercover @catgirl-yeji @thebibleophile @shipwithnocaptain // wanna be tagged when i post a new collage? lmk! :)
hello! I don’t mean to rush but quick question. Are you going to continue doing the pride collection? It’s 100% okay if you’re not I was just wondering :)
hey!! thanks for asking!! :)
i totally want to finish out that collection, but ofc i got distracted by pretty boys posing for pretty pictures *cough cough* this & that era is the end of me *cough* 😅😅
I WILL BE FINISHING THEM THO i promise!! i believe i have like 4 left? they’ll be posted as soon as i get to them (which should be within the next week or so, now that the comeback is actually here lol!) i actually started the demiboy one and i was going to post the demigirl one with it! so those two should be next :)
F!reader x Husband!changbin | smut, fluff | word count: 6k
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Changbin had always assumed wanting children would be something that happened gradually.
One conversation after another. A discussion about timing, about work schedules and spare bedrooms and whether the apartment would be enough for a little while. He'd imagined it arriving sensibly, the way most milestones did.
Instead, it happened over dessert.
The restaurant buzzed softly around you, filled with the easy sounds of clinking glasses and overlapping conversations while the two of you lingered over the last bites of cake someone had insisted on bringing out with Happy Anniversary written in chocolate across the plate. Neither of you had much room left for it, but you kept stealing bites from each other's forks anyway.
A burst of laughter from across the room drew Changbin's attention.
A little girl, no older than three, had climbed halfway into her father's lap despite having her own chair. She held up a spoonful of mashed potatoes with complete confidence, insisting he take a bite before she'd eat another herself. He played along without hesitation, opening his mouth dramatically until she dissolved into delighted giggles, nearly dropping the spoon in the process. Her mother reached over with a napkin before either of them seemed to notice the mess, smiling with the kind of practiced affection that came from having done this countless times before.
It wasn't remarkable.
It wasn't some picture-perfect family you'd see in a commercial.
If anything, it was wonderfully ordinary, and somehow, Changbin couldn't look away.
You noticed almost immediately. Resting your chin against your hand, you watched him for another few seconds before smiling to yourself. "What're you looking at?"
His attention snapped back to you. "Hm?"
"You've been staring."
He glanced toward the family again, almost sheepishly this time, before letting out a quiet laugh. "They look happy."
Your gaze followed his for a moment. The little girl had abandoned her spoon entirely now, happily talking with her hands while both parents listened as though whatever story she was telling was the most fascinating thing in the world.
"They do," you agreed. When you looked back, Changbin was already watching you instead. The realization settled between you almost instantly, and your smile only grew. "You want kids."
He barked out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as a faint flush crept up the tips of his ears. "Maybe."
"'Maybe?'"
"I mean..." His smile turned smaller, softer. "Yeah."
You reached across the table until your fingers found his, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. "I think you'd be a really good dad."
For a second he didn't answer. He simply looked down at your joined hands, his smile lingering in a way that made your chest ache. "You think so?"
"I know so."
Something shifted behind his eyes then, subtle enough that anyone else might have missed it. You didn't. You'd spent years learning every version of his smile, every quiet expression he wore when words couldn't quite keep up with what he was feeling.
The conversation drifted elsewhere after that. You talked about dessert, about the movie you'd promised to watch over the weekend, about whether you should splurge on another bottle of wine to celebrate. But every so often, you'd catch him looking at you with that same faraway softness, as though he'd stumbled across a future he'd never quite allowed himself to picture until tonight.
The drive home was quieter than usual.
Not uncomfortable. Never uncomfortable. The radio hummed softly beneath the sound of the tires on the pavement while the city lights slipped across the windshield in ribbons of gold. Changbin had shrugged out of his suit jacket before you'd even left the restaurant, tossing it into the back seat, and his tie hung loose around his neck now, the top buttons of his shirt undone.
His hands stayed on the steering wheel for most of the drive. Except every few minutes, one would drift away.
The first time, it settled over your hand where it rested on the center console. The second, it found your knee instead, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles through the silk of your dress before returning to the wheel when traffic demanded his attention.
You smiled to yourself, "you're quiet."
"Hm?"
"You've been thinking ever since dinner."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Have I?"
"You know I'm married to you, right?" you teased. "I can tell."
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head as though there wasn't much point denying it. "I was just thinking."
"Dangerous."
"It usually is." His hand found yours again, this time lacing your fingers together. He brought them to his lips long enough to press a brief kiss against your knuckles before setting them back down between you, never taking his eyes off the road.
The gesture was so effortless, so instinctive, that it made your heart squeeze.
By the time the apartment building came into view, the conversation had faded into another comfortable silence, but the feeling from dinner still lingered, warm and unspoken, filling every quiet space between you.
He helped you out of your coat in the entryway, draping it over the hook by the door before turning back to you. When his eyes found yours again, something had changed. He rested his hands lightly on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the thin straps of your dress where they disappeared against your skin, and lingered there just a second longer than he normally would.
It wasn't impatience. If anything, it was the opposite. There was a quiet certainty in the way he looked at you now, one that hadn't been there when you'd left for dinner, and though you couldn't have explained why, you felt it settle beneath his touch.
He didn't say anything. For once, he let the silence speak for him.
Kneeling in front of you, he reached for the buckles of your heels, easing them free one at a time before setting the shoes neatly beside the door. As he stood again, his hand found your waist, then drifted almost absentmindedly across your stomach, coming to rest there for the briefest moment. It wasn't a caress. It felt more like, grounding. As though he needed to remind himself you were real.
You searched his face, expecting him to explain whatever had been running through his mind since dinner, but he only smiled, small and almost shy, before taking your hand and leading you down the hallway.
The apartment was dark, lit only by the pair of candles you'd left burning on the dresser that morning. Their flames had burned low, casting a warm amber glow across the bedroom as Changbin stepped inside behind you. The door clicked shut with a soft thud, and for a heartbeat neither of you moved.
He simply looked at you.
There was something almost reverent in his expression that made your breath catch. You'd seen desire on his face before. Affection, too. But this was quieter than either of those, softer somehow, like he was trying to memorize you without touching you at all.
Then he closed the distance.
His hands settled carefully at your waist before sliding to your back, finding the zipper almost by instinct. He eased it down only an inch, just enough for the fabric to loosen around your shoulders, the tiny clicks of the metal teeth impossibly loud in the stillness between you. His forehead brushed your shoulder as he paused there, pressing a lingering kiss against the back of your neck before letting his lips trail along the strip of newly bared skin.
The rest of the zipper came down in one slow pull, the fabric parting like a held breath finally letting go. He stepped back just far enough to let the dress pool at your ankles without tugging at it or rushing to get his hands on what was beneath. The silk gathered in quiet folds around your feet, and for a long moment he simply stood there, the two candles throwing amber across the planes of his face, watching you with the same expression he'd carried through every minute of dinner.
You could hear him breathing.
That was the one thing he couldn't control. His hands stayed at his sides while his chest kept catching on itself; shallow inhales that stuttered once you turned around, eyes meeting his, a long, shaky exhale he pressed against your collarbone when he finally moved back in.
His palms settled on your hips and stayed there, grounding, the same steady weight as they'd been in the entryway, as though he needed to remind himself you were real before he could let himself do anything else.
His thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles against your hip bones. The rest of him followed a different rhythm, his mouth was patient but desperate, grazing the curve of your shoulder, the hollow of your throat, pausing everywhere his breath broke against your skin. Each kiss lasted just long enough to make you want the next one, pulling the space between restraint and surrender thinner without crossing it.
You reached for him, for the buttons of his shirt, but he caught your wrist. Not hard. Just a gentle, deliberate pressure that stopped your hands. "Not yet." His voice was lower than usual, rough around the edges where he couldn't quite smooth it out. "Let me."
He took your hand out of his instead and kissed the inside of your wrist, slow enough that you felt every dip of his mouth, before pressing your palm flat against his chest. Beneath the thin cotton, his heart was fast. Unhurried hands, but a heart that had been racing since the restaurant and had no intention of catching up anytime soon.
The kiss he gave you then was different from all the ones before it. Still careful. Still deliberate. But when his lips found yours, there was a weight behind the pressure that hadn't been there a minute ago; something that tasted like months of wanting and a year of almost saying yes, all of it compressed into a single, deliberate thing he was finally, finally allowed to do.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb tracing your lower lip before his hand slid up to cradle the side of your face. His palm was warm against your cheek, his fingers tangling slightly in your hair, and when he spoke, his voice was low and roughened by everything he'd been holding back since the restaurant.
"We can take our time tonight." His thumb kept moving. "No rushing. I want to take as long as you'll let me."
You opened your mouth to answer, but he pressed his forehead against yours, close enough that your breath mixed, and his hand on your face tightened just slightly, a small, unconscious grounding.
"I want to put a baby in you." The words came out careful, deliberate, as if he'd been rehearsing them in his head all evening and was finally giving them air. "Your body. Ours. Whatever we want. Tonight, I want to try for that."
He didn't pull away. He stayed right there, forehead to forehead, his thumb still on your lip, and let the weight of what he'd said settle between you. His eyes searched yours without apology, with that same reverent quality he'd had since the moment he saw you in the hallway; the look of a man who was finally, finally saying the thing he'd almost said a hundred times before.
Then he kissed your forehead. Then your closed eyelids. Then the corner of your mouth, so light you almost missed it. As though each small press of his lips was a separate answer, and he wanted you to feel every single one.
"If you're ready," he whispered against your skin. "We can start tonight."
The words hung between you, and you felt them land in your body before your mind could catch up. Start tonight. Not a question. Not a proposal he was asking permission for. An offer, a quiet, careful laying down of everything he'd been carrying since the restaurant, since the car, since he'd watched that father at the next table and swallowed the thing building in his chest.
You searched his face and found it plain there, stripped of any of the careful diplomacy he usually packed around his wants. The playfulness that lived on his mouth at dinner was gone. The half-smiles and the teasing and the deflections had all burned off somewhere between the appetizer and dessert. What was left was steadier, more honest.
"Changbin...." You said his name like it was the only thing you had to hold onto. "I've been ready for a while."
His jaw shifted, a single tight motion, the only crack in the composure he was working so hard to keep. His hands tightened at your hips; not hard, just present, the way they'd been for months without quite committing. Then his forehead came back down to rest against yours, and you could feel the full weight of that breath he'd been holding since dinner finally breaking free.
He didn't move for a long moment. He just breathed against you, steady and slow, as though he was letting every second of this sink in. As though he wanted to remember the exact moment his wife said yes before anything else happened.
When his lips found yours, there was something different in the way he kissed you. Not urgent, heavier. It settled between you with every slow press of his mouth against yours, carrying everything he'd held onto since dinner, maybe longer. There was no hesitation left in him now. Only quiet certainty.
When he finally drew back, it wasn't to leave you. It was only far enough to look. In the low amber of the candles, his eyes moved over you slowly, as though he were still studying something he couldn't quite believe was real.
His hands came back up, settling first at your ribs, then drifting higher until his palms cupped the underside of your breasts through the thin silk of your bra. Each movement was careful and unhurried. His fingers traced the lace with a slowness that should have been infuriating but instead pulled something tender and raw out of your chest.
"Changbin," you breathed.
He didn't answer right away. He let his thumbs brush the tops of your breasts, circling once, twice, before his gaze dropped to your mouth. "You're beautiful," he said, and his voice did something to you that no one else's ever had, quiet and certain. Like he was stating a fact about the world itself rather than paying a compliment. "I don't think I've told you what you look like to me. Honestly."
The word came out softer than the rest, carrying an uncertainty you rarely heard from him. His fingers paused where they rested against you, lingering for the briefest moment before they moved again, as though even they needed a second to catch up with what his heart had already decided.
He stepped closer until there wasn't any space left to close. Your hands found the front of his shirt almost instinctively, fumbling with the buttons, but he caught your wrists with a smile that was equal parts amused and impossibly fond.
"Slow," he murmured, brushing a kiss against your forehead before letting his lips skim your temple. "Just let me, please."
You nodded, and he answered with another kiss, this one at the corner of your mouth, before his hands returned to the buttons you'd nearly undone. He worked through them one at a time, each movement patient enough to make your heart ache, until the fabric loosened beneath his fingers and slipped from his shoulders to the floor beside your dress.
When he reached for you again, it was with that same deliberate tenderness, but the restraint he'd carried so carefully all evening was beginning to fray around the edges. His mouth lingered at the curve of your neck a little longer than before. His breathing lost its steady rhythm each time your fingers grazed his back.
The next time he kissed you, his mouth finally stopped being careful.
His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, and his lips pressed against yours with an urgency that told you everything the rest of him had been refusing to say. His tongue traced the seam of your lips with a focus that made your knees want to give out. When you pressed back against him, hands flat against his chest, the steady beat beneath your palm stuttered and then doubled, climbing to match.
His other hand traveled lower. His thumb found the soft place beneath your ribs and his whole palm came up to settle flat against your belly, pressing with enough weight to remind you he was there, now, finally. The grounding touch from the hallway and the entryway had mutated into something heavier; a possessive, desperate kind of need that had been building for months and was finally being fed.
He broke the kiss just enough to bury his face against your neck. His breath came in ragged breaks against your skin.
"Baby...."
"I know." His hand slid lower, his thumb finding the line where your hip met your thigh, and the careful deliberation he'd been practicing simply stopped. There was no hesitation in the way his fingers moved. No patience left in the muscles of his shoulders. Just a man who had been holding his breath since dinner and was finally letting it out.
When his mouth found yours again, it was hard and fast and hungry in a way that surprised you, because behind the slow ritual and the reverent worship of the last few minutes, the fire that had been burning under everything was finally being given the oxygen it'd been starving for.
And when his thigh pushed between yours and he pressed you flat against the bed, you felt the whole shift in him; the controlled man who'd been pacing himself with careful touches was gone.
What was left was something older, deeper, a hunger that went back past dinner and past the restaurant and past whatever specific moment at the next table had cracked him open. He came down over you, his weight grounding and total, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer, because you realized in that moment that neither of you could afford to waste another second pretending you had time.
His hands are already bare against your ribs where he first found you, and the rest of his palms follow suit as he works your bra open with a focus so total it should be infuriating. Instead, it just pulls something tender out of your chest. When the lace finally gives, his hands come back to your breasts and the difference is immediate; warm skin on warm skin, the contact so direct it makes the breath leave you before you can catch it.
He lifts your arms above your head, pinning your wrists gently against the pillow with one hand, and the other returns to the curve of your hip, thumb hooked low at the waistband of your panties. You can feel every line of him pressed against you now, the heat of his thighs between yours, the bare muscle of his chest crushing your bra away. He's close enough that you can feel his heartbeat thudding against yours through sheer proximity.
His mouth finds the sensitive skin beneath your ear, pressing there a long moment like he's memorizing this. When he pulls back just far enough to look at you, his eyes are darker than you've ever seen them.
"Stay right there," he says, and his voice has a quality you've never heard from him, something raw and almost desperate behind the control. "Don't move. I want to look at you like this."
His hand releases your wrist but his body stays anchored over yours. One knee settles between your thighs to hold you steady, and his free palm comes flat against your ribs again, tracking slowly downward across bare skin where the bra has fallen away. Every inch of him has stopped pretending. His breathing has gone loud and deliberate in the dark.
You try to speak, but he leans forward and seals your mouth with his. No tease, no testing; just full contact, hard and direct, and his tongue slides against yours with a blunt pressure that tells you he's done being gentle about what he wants. Your fingers dig into the bare muscles of his shoulders, finding purchase in skin slick with the heat of him, and pull him closer because there isn't anywhere else you want to be.
When he breaks the kiss, he doesn't go far. His mouth travels the length of your jaw to the hollow of your throat, where he bites once, softly, grazing the tendon there with his teeth before his tongue soothes it. The small sound you make is lost against his shoulder.
You gasp around his name, your hips lifting off the mattress without your permission, seeking the weight of him.
He catches your thighs with both hands and spreads them, settling deeper between them. The boxers are all that's left now, and even through the fabric his hardness presses against you, sure and unmistakable, and when he sees how you're reacting to it he lets out a low sound that might be his own name for you distorted by want.
His hand slides from your thigh to the waistband of your panties. He hooks two fingers in the elastic and pulls the fabric flush against your hip before peeling it down. Slowly. Deliberately. The lace drops away, and when he pushes it down past your legs he doesn't reach for his own boxers yet. He just looks.
"Beautiful," he says, and this time there's no uncertainty in it. No hesitation. "So beautiful, I can barely breathe."
Then his mouth comes back down to yours, harder than before, and his hand finds the place where your legs meet and slides inside, and you understand, with the sudden clarity of a body that's finally stopped pretending it doesn't want this, that he isn't going to be patient for another second.
His fingers slide deeper, and the first time they find you wet and ready, he stops. Not because he wants to pause, but because the sound that leaves his throat at the contact is too much to move through. A broken sort of noise, half groan and half surrender, and his forehead drops to rest against yours while his fingers curl inside you like he's memorizing what he's found.
"Are you sure?" he rasps. The word is almost painful to hear from him like this, pitched so low and stripped so bare. "Tell me you want this. Right now. Tell me exactly what you want from me."
"You," you breathe, pulling him back down by the back of his neck. "Everything. Right now, Changbin, I want—"
"Yes." The word is barely a whisper and it comes from him before you can finish the sentence, because he already knows. "Whatever it is, whatever you're feeling, I'm already there with you."
His fingers move again, slower this time, circling and pressing until your back arches off the mattress and the sound that leaves you breaks him clean. When his mouth finds yours again, his thumb finds you at the same time, and the dual pressure of him has you seeing stars behind closed lids. You're already half there, your thighs trembling around his hips, your whole body singing with the kind of need that has been building across dinner tables and through half-spoken conversations for months.
"I've wanted you like this since the moment you sat down tonight," he says against your lips, and the honesty in his voice is more erotic than anything he could have done with his hands. "Since the moment I saw you laugh at something that waiter said. Since I realized I was watching the rest of the room disappear."
His hand moves faster now, his thumb steady and relentless, and you're close. Closer than you've ever been, the kind of close where everything narrows down to him, to his heat, to his voice murmuring your name like a prayer he's finally allowed to say out loud. Your hips tilt, seeking the pressure he's giving, and the first wave crashes over you before you can catch your breath.
Changbin rides out every sound you make, every broken word and helpless little gasp, taking it all like evidence. His mouth presses to the inside of your wrist, then your elbow, then up your arm to your shoulder, and each kiss is a promise he's making to himself.
When you come down from it, shaking and breathless, he's still there, his hand still inside you, his other hand tangled in your hair with enough pressure that your head is tilted back against his arm. He's watching you come back to yourself, and the look in his eyes, feral and worshipful all at once, tells you he's not done.
"My turn," he says, and the words are rough as he reaches down to hook his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. "Or are you going to help me?"
You reach down with both hands, your fingers finding the elastic over his knuckles, and pull.
The boxers slide down and fall away, and when he pushes them past his knees, the last barrier between you vanishes. He shoves them aside in one motion and comes back over you fully bare, his weight heavy and grounded, his thighs framing yours. The skin-on-skin contact is total now. His chest crushes against yours, his stomach against yours, the heat of him everywhere at once, and when he settles between your legs he lowers himself until there's nothing left to push back anymore.
His hands find your hips and lock you in place, knuckles white with the kind of pressure that says he isn't letting you go anywhere. He stares down at you for a long moment with his mouth parted, taking you in, the way a man does when he's been starving and the first meal has finally arrived.
"Tell me again," he says, his voice barely audible over the sound of your own breathing. "Tell me you want me inside you. Right now."
"Yes," you gasp, your hips already tilting up to meet him. "Please, yes."
He moves between your legs, settling his weight, and when he presses the broad, hot length of him against your entrance he stops. Just there. Barely touching. The contact alone draws a sound from your throat that is raw and helpless, and his jaw tightens, his teeth grinding together as he fights the instinct to just take what he wants.
"Open for me," he rasps. "Settle around me. Let me feel you taking me."
So you do. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, your heels digging into the small of his back, and you open yourself to him inch by inch. He watches your face through the whole thing, drinking in every expression, every flicker of pleasure and surrender, and when he finally feels you yield fully his hands at your hips tighten until his fingerprints are going to stay.
Then he pushes.
Slow and deliberate. Every inch of him sliding inside you while your eyes blow wide and your breath hitches and dies in your throat. He's huge. He fills you so completely that there's no room for air, only him, and your body clenches around him instinctively, drawing him deeper. A low, wrecked sound tears out of his chest; something that isn't a word at all, just pure, unadulterated need finally finding its way home.
He stays still for a moment. Just still, buried deep inside you, his forehead against yours, both of you shaking from the effort of not moving. His heart is hammering against your sternum like it wants to break through.
"You're so warm," he whispers, and his breath is hot against your mouth. "So wet. So perfect." His hands slide from your hips to cup the back of your thighs, pulling you higher onto him. "I could stay right here. I could stay inside you forever and never leave this bed."
He pulls back just enough to find your mouth again, and when he pushes forward, slow and deep, your back arches off the mattress and the first stroke lands somewhere so deep and so right that your whole body jolts. He draws back, then drives home again, building a rhythm that is patient at first, worshipping each inch, before the hunger takes over and the pace shatters into something faster and harder and louder.
Every thrust carries everything he's been holding since dinner. Every breath he catches against your neck. Every time he whispers your name like he's saying it for the first time. You're undone beneath him, your hands wandering his back, his shoulders, finding every muscle and gripping every curve of him, pulling him deeper, faster, because the pleasure is so sharp it feels almost like pain and neither of you cares which one it is.
"Baby—" your voice breaks. "Baby, please—"
"I've got you," he grunts against your hip, his voice wrecked. "I've got you. Stay with me. Stay right here."
And you do. You stay right there, legs locked around his waist, face buried in the crook of his neck, riding every wave he gives you until the world narrows down to the heat of him inside you and the sound of his voice breaking your name against your skin.
The rhythm shifts from a steady pulse to a frantic, desperate collision. Changbin is no longer just worshipping you; he is claiming you. His movements become visceral, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the quiet room, punctuated by the wet, squelching noise of his cock sliding deep into your drenched pussy. He isn't holding back anymore. He drives into you with a raw, animalistic force, his hips slamming against yours with a violence that vibrates through your entire spine.
He shifts his angle, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder to open you up even further. The change in position allows him to bury himself deeper, hitting your cervix with every punishing thrust.
You cry out, a loud, shattered sound that he swallows with a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as he fucks you with a relentless, driving intensity. He is huge, stretching you to your absolute limit, filling every void until you feel like you might break apart under the sheer weight of him.
"Look at me," he commands, his voice a guttural growl.
You force your eyes open, blinking through the haze of pleasure to find him staring down at you. His eyes are dark, blown wide with lust, his face strained with the effort of trying not to come too soon. He looks possessed, his muscles rippling and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that makes him slide against you.
He watches the way your pussy grips him, the way your walls pulse and squeeze around his shaft with every stroke, and the sight of it seems to push him over the edge. "You're fucking squeezing me so tight," he rasps, his breath coming in jagged heaves. "You're trying to take it all, aren't you? You want every fucking inch of me."
He doesn't wait for an answer. He begins to hammer into you, the pace becoming blurringly fast. He is no longer slow or deliberate; he is a storm, a collision of heat and friction. Each thrust is a blunt force, driving you back into the mattress, your head tossing from side to side as the pleasure builds into a screaming crescendo. You can feel the tension coiling in your lower belly, a tight, electric knot that threatens to snap.
Your fingers dig into the muscles of his back, your nails leaving red crescents in his skin, but he doesn't flinch. If anything, the pain only fuels him. He grunts, a deep, primal sound from the back of his throat, as he reaches down between your bodies. His thumb finds your clit, pressing hard and rubbing in a fast, circular motion that sends a jolt of pure electricity straight to your core.
The combination is too much. The friction of his cock filling you and the pressure on your clit collide, and you shatter. Your internal muscles clamp down on him in a series of violent, rhythmic contractions, milking him with a desperate intensity. You scream his name, your body arching off the bed, your vision whitening as the orgasm rips through you in waves of blinding heat.
He feels it happen inside him; every contraction, every desperate squeeze of your walls seizing around him; and the next second is gone.
Changbin's body locks tight. His hands slide from your hips to the mattress on either side of your head, fingers digging into the sheets until his knuckles go white, and he drives into you one last time so deep that the impact rattles your ribs. A sound tears out of him that isn't human; a low, gutteral roar he muffles against the column of your throat as his own release shatters.
You feel every pulse of him flooding you, wave after hot wave filling you to the brink, and your body continues to contract around him in its own selfish, beautiful rhythm, wringing every drop from him while your skin shudders through the aftershocks. His forehead drops to yours. He doesn't move. He can't. He stays buried in you, his heart slamming against your chest like a trapped thing, his breath ragged and desperate as it drags through his chest in the slow, broken rhythm of a man who has just given everything.
Sweat stings between you where your bodies are still glued together. The room is silent except for the sounds of both of you trying to remember how to exist. Your fingers are still hooked into the muscles of his back, and when he finally moves one hand, it comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip, swollen and wet from where he's been kissing you raw.
"Hey," he whispers. Just the syllable, soft and wrecked. "Hey, look at me."
You try. Your eyes are stinging and your legs feel like water and the only thing in the world that makes sense is his face inches from yours, stripped of every reservation, every polite word, every boundary he has ever built. He is still flushed, still trembling faintly from the force of what just passed between you, and he studies your face like it's the first thing he's ever truly seen clearly.
Then his hand slides down. Past your jaw, past your throat, past the pulse jumping at the base of your neck. His palm settles flat against your belly, warm and heavy, and his fingers splay wide over the soft curve there.
The touch is different from anything from earlier in the night. It is not worship. It is not longing. It is something that weighs more than both combined. His thumb presses once against your skin, a deliberate, anchoring motion, and his gaze drops to where his hand rests on your stomach, then lifts back to your eyes.
"I meant what I said at dinner," he says. His voice is quiet again, the roar of a moment ago smoothed back into that low certainty that has always been his most dangerous quality. "About wanting this. About wanting you like this, with you, all of you. Always."
He presses his palm a little flatter against your belly, as though laying claim to the place where nothing has grown yet but the possibility of everything.
"Everything we talked about. The future. The things we said we'd wait for." His thumb grazes you one more time. "I'm not waiting anymore. I don't want to wait a single day longer than we have to."
THANK YOU FOR THE TAG 😭 BUT ALSO IF I MISS SOMEONE ITS CAUSE I NEVER REMEMBER YALLS USERS OK.
-> also might tag some people i follow that don’t follow me cause istg i always think everyone already follows me ok. so treat this as blog appreciation even if you don’t follow me i see you on my dash A LOTTT.
Oh my gosh I wasn’t expecting this!! Thank you so much!! I love seeing y’all’s posts, you’re so creative and funny!! @mulders-slutty-black-turtleneck @thatgirlintheleatherjacket @totesnotanalien @prentisswh0re @scullinski @foxmulderamuppettedman @feral-asexual-possum @fb1sm0stunwant3d @legendofsofi @mulderscreek
omg thank you,,,, my eyes start to sparkle and a single tear runs down my face
@spongeboblvr-32 @rocket-proxy @viansparkles @loser-37 @onionpaws @telephonetical @iminbetweenyourcouchcushions @zuzizazezo @justnobodyx3 @pupfettipaws @m1cahx3 @gmtgab and SO SO SO many other folks but these are just a few off the top of my head I LOVE EVERYBODY ❤️
@juhoon99 @haneurin @jjumars @annalushy @asaoj @heartz4seungminnie @sonomartin @faeruth @mydesiresangel @lee-fryer @ebi-heartsalltheway @ranboos-lesbian-memory-book + all my moots (I can't tag you all my arms hurt already but I love all of you!!)
ahh seungmin is the last member of my this & that truck version collages!! go check out all of them if you haven’t already :3 i hope everyone loved the mini series as much as i loved making them <3
I do not own or take credit for any of the images used. Reblogs are greatly appreciated :) but PLEASE DO NOT repost or edit my collages on tumblr or other platforms! All of my collages are made on Pinterest (@/cosmicluvrrr)
divider creds: @bbyg4rlhelps
taglist: @velocityyx @platypusundercover @catgirl-yeji @shipwithnocaptain @thebibleophile // wanna be tagged when i post a new collage? lmk! :)
THANK YOU EYIN ( @platypusundercover ) for making these!! they were SOO FUN!! (also, under the cut i explain each tier if you wanna see my headcanons :))
1) Sleepover:
i.n is done with everyone’s bs (/lh), he’s tired of his members and is definitely in bed first LOL
chan would kiss everyone goodnight because are you kidding?? he’s chan.
changlix is hype, trying to get everyone to play the classic party/sleepover games. they might even try to start a pillow fight…
2min will menacingly stand in front of everyone’s bed to jumpscare them when they wake ofc, especially han. they think he’s fun to scare :P
hyunsung is DEFINITELY painting their nails, talking about ALL the hot gossip until like 3am—when they get told by everyone else they’re being “too loud” so they end up having to go to bed.
2) Beach:
chanlix loves the water, so they drop everything off in the other members hands so they can race to the ocean. chan can run faster, but he let’s felix win most of the time :)
lino, still protective of his abs, will stay in the shade. he also just hates getting sunburnt.
seungbin go against each other in a sandcastle building context, both getting increasingly competitive, and sabotaging the other. in the end, neither of them win because lino was the judge and he said he didn’t like either of the castles. (how dare he!)
hyunin both like to relax at the beach, but ALWAYS forget to grab their sunscreen. they usually feel a burn about an hour into tanning—and then both of them are furiously rubbing spf on each other’s backs, but they’re already tomatoes so it doesn’t do much.
the members think it’s hilarious when han falls asleep, even though this time he “says he won’t” because they bury his body under the sand every single time they go to the beach—and han wakes up confused, every. single. time.
3) Airport
2min were somehow put in charge of the luggage?? so lino is pushing the cart around with seungmin sitting on it :]
i.n and bin are trying to make sure they have everything, but keep forgetting one more thing that they “need” on their carry-on. they’re probably the last to check in.
chan made everyone get up at the crack of dawn to get to the airport, bc he knows the company would kill them if the boys missed this flight.
hyunsung wears a full fit to the airport bc they know pics are gonna be taken of them, but forget that metal detectors exist—so they have to keep going back and keep taking off more and more jewelry/belts/and other accessories.
felix loves the airport and is always prepared for them! all the flight attendants and staff love him so they give him plenty of freebies and extra snacks “on the house”
hope you enjoyed these very small drabbles (if you could even call them that?) bc i enjoyed writing them :)
To celebrate Stay week, I want to shine light on and thank my favorite creators on here!
You all are the backbone of the fandom, thank you so much for sharing your art, your fics, your edits and gifs and everything else you create around the kids. I'm so thankful I get to be a part of the community with you all ❤️
Let's keep creating together~ May your creativity never run out!
Go under the cut to find new creators to follow, if you don't know them yet! And don't forget to reblog their work to show support~
If you want you can RB this and tag your favorite creators to show appreciation for their works!!
ahhh lee know looks amazing in blue! he killed this photoshoot 😌 aaand i only have one truck ver. collage left, which will be posted soon :3
I do not own or take credit for any of the images used. Reblogs are greatly appreciated :) but PLEASE DO NOT repost or edit my collages on tumblr or other platforms! All of my collages are made on Pinterest (@/cosmicluvrrr)
divider creds: @genderlesspersonx
taglist: @velocityyx @platypusundercover @catgirl-yeji @shipwithnocaptain @thebibleophile // please don’t be afraid to lmk in the comments if you’d like to be added to my taglist! :)
