#ride his face all day FOR REAL 😳

[click4rainy]

face sitting raiden? he would definitely love ts and wanna suffocate under your thicc thighs prove me wrong.

Can I Taste You? // Raiden x Reader smut shot

👽:Oooh, how bout I prove you right, anon. Because I TOTALLY AGREE SKSKSKSK. I kept this one short and sweet. (Not proof read)

⚠️: Low key exhibitionism?, Face sitting/Cunnilingus

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

★ You and raiden were training in the fields, practicing your moves with each other, enjoying the shared moment as you admired each others skill set.

★ The weather was perfect for your favorite tank top and spandex shorts. You finish kicking one of the dummy’s before turning to Raiden, asking for a friendly sparring match, hoping it would invigorate your skills a bit more.

★ “Of course, Y/N…” he responded with a friendly demeanor. “Can I get a kiss first?” He cutely asked as he approached you.

★ You smile and nod, gladly giving him a sweet, but short kiss on the lips. Raiden would hold the back of your neck gently, as the kiss deepened a little bit, you smiled against his lips, tugging at his lower one with your teeth, separating before it would distract you two from the matter at hand.

★ Seemingly charged up from the affection, Raiden is getting into position. While you do your own stance, you motion for him to make the first move.

★ He nods before sprinting towards you with a flying kick, you easily dodge it as he stumbles forward a bit. you had practically seen it coming from a mile away. Smirking before landing a solid jab to his side, you decide to taunt him a little.

★ “Wow, great first blow, champion~.” Raiden regains his balance again, before turning to you, rolling his eyes at your teasing remark. “Be careful with your teasing, we’ve only just begun.” He smiled a bit as he went back in, sweeping a foot under your legs, dropping you to the ground below.

★ “nngh- damn…” you immediately go to get back up but raiden steps over you, entrapping you between both of his legs, folding his buff arms over his chest as he looks down at you, with a small smirk creeping onto his lips.

★ “See what I mean? You seemed to have spoken too soon. A common mistake that Kung Lao makes…” you weren’t even listening to his lighthearted scolding. looking up at his towering figure, you swallow a bit at the angle you were getting, face flushing, you turn your head in an attempt to regain your composure.

★ You swiftly move out from beneath his legs, sliding your way behind him and quickly getting to your feet, grabbing both his shoulders you manage to throw him to the ground, back first. And with a thud, he let out a small sound.

★ “Fast…very fast…” he coughed a bit, as he attempted to get back up, but this time you stood over him, looking down at the demi-god as you stood over him, casting a shadow over him, with a sly smirk playing across your lips. Happy with the way the tables have turned.

★ “Thanks, I try.” You smugly agree as you examine his facial expressions. His chest was heaving a bit, eyes glossed as they flickered over your form towering above him. His cheeks seemed to have flushed just like yours did earlier.

★ Raiden then suddenly grabbed both of your ankles, sweeping you to the ground, causing you to fall on top of him. Panicking, as you didn’t want to lose the spar just yet, you quickly sit up, scrambling to pin his wrists down, as he fights against it.

★ “Ugh— just!” A bit frustrated, you finally decide to just use your strong suit. Your legs. You quickly bring a knee down on Raidens shoulder, pinning it to the ground beneath, as you do the same with your other. Almost sitting in a ‘w’ pose, on top of his chest, you now had him at your mercy.

★ “Yeah! Try and get outta this one ‘God of Thunder’. you mock, as you bask in the moment of dominance you held over your partner, too busy celebrating to notice how his eyes were tracing along your inner thighs. Seemingly lost in his thoughts. Your eyebrows knitted together as you noticed his head was practically between your legs!

★ Realizing this, you clear your throat a bit, attempting to get off of him. you shift to stand—only for his hands to escape beneath the pin you held, and lightly smack on each thigh, keeping you in place. Raiden's eyes were clouded with lust as he looked up at you.

★ “C-can I taste you…please~?” He practically begged as he kissed your inner thigh, feeling a small, electric shock from the contact. The sensation made you buck your hips slightly. “Raiden…right here…?” You ask, looking around the secluded field.

★ He nodded “mhmm~.” his eyes never left yours, kissing and licking the skin of your inner thighs, kneading the plushness of them as he left small love bites. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of him going down on you in the middle of these training grounds.

★ “I-I don’t know…rai.” You stammer a bit, biting your lower lip as his kisses continue. “Well, I certainly do.” He slyly remarked, bringing his gaze to your soaked spandex. “It’s just…what if we get caught?” “Trust me, Y/N…” He encouraged, nipping a bit at the edge of your shorts, sliding his tongue along your panty line. “We won’t.”

★ Taken aback by the sudden boldness of your lover, you hesitated before reconciling. “A-alright but, should we at least move—

★ You were cut off as he pulled you up closer to his face, burying his nose into the heat between your thighs. Licking your wetness through your thin spandex, you held back a moan, trying your best from throwing your head back in pleasure. you whined as your hips began to grind, rubbing your clothed pussy against his tongue, aching for more.

★ “Mmmh~” Raidens groans were muffled as he nuzzled into your wet cunt even more, tracing the outline of your soaked pussy through the soaked fabric. “Hmff~ mmmh~” Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face completely, as the vibrations of his moans sent shocks of pleasure through your clit.

★ Lapping his tongue a bit more, you bucked your hips, in hopes that he would read your signals and further his actions. He hummed once again, before tapping his right hand on your thigh. Catching the drift, since he was still pinned beneath you, you pulled your shorts to the side for him, causing him to smile against your inner thigh.

★ His gaze lingers on your soaked core, admiring the warmth that radiated, before pulling you more onto his face, causing your weight to settle on him, he begins to go down on you in a robust way, fucking you onto his tongue as he groans in pleasure from the taste of your essence.

★ His cock throbbed against the restraints of his pants, keeping his focus on you, encasing your cunt with the heat of his tongue, flicking your clit rhythmically in the process.

★ “R-rai~…” Whimpering as he keeps his pace exact. Pushing you further to the edge, you felt a knot forming in your stomach, clenching your thighs inwardly, Raiden gently forced them apart, to keep you in place for just a bit longer. “You’re doing so good~” he cooed as he continued.

★ Raiden had ejaculated in his pants at this point. as his tongue stayed at work, his grip tightens on each thigh, sending small sparks of electricity from his fingertips to emit through your body, throwing your head back and riding his face,feeling his nose tease your sensitive clit with each small thrust, you cry out in pleasure.

★ Your climax was imminent, as his ministrations help bring you closer to it. you pant out a warning before arching your back, body tensing up as you release yourself onto Raidens tongue and face. whining as your body trembles on top of your lover. Raiden finishes lapping up the remaining juices you released, gently sliding you away from his face, and onto his chest. Panting a bit to catch his own breath.

★ “You taste wonderful.” He stated simply before shifting you sit on his lap, pulling you into a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue as he cupped your face to deepen it. After a moment, you two separate, and you gently get off of him, sitting on the ground as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. (Or not)

★ Raiden stands up, wiping his chin from any remaining essence you had so thoughtfully shared with him, offering out his strong hand. You gladly take it, smiling as you stand up, beside him. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up, beautiful.” Raiden suggested while taking your hand in his, leading you away from the field.

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[kingofbodyrolls]

Songs of the Heart (m) | pjm | chap 1: rebirth

Having just settled into a small house on the outskirts of the bustling city, you’re drawn into the haunting melodies of your neighbor’s sad love songs, echoing through the quiet walls day after day. Concerned, you finally gather the courage to knock on his door, unsure of what to expect—only to be face-to-face with Park Jimin, the renowned singer-songwriter whose voice has touched millions. What begins as a simple gesture of kindness soon unravels into something far more complex, as the melodies of his heart beckon you closer.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female) → AUs: musician!au (not completely idol!au), single dad!au, slice of life!au → Trope: strangers to lovers / neighbors to lovers → Genres: slow burn romance / fluff / angst / smut / comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 5.6k → Warnings + triggers: nothing much, just heartache and small misunderstandings 🤭 → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note: Hi!!! How are you doing?? 😄 I hope you’re as excited about this new series as I am (and I really, truly mean it when I say this might be my last series for a long while… so buckle up, it’s going to be a ride!). Now, before you go thinking I’m just setting myself up for failure, let me be real with you: my last Jimin series didn’t exactly set the world on fire—sigh. But I adore it, like, adore it. (I know, I’m biased, but can you blame me?) Soooo, this time, we’re going for a more “mainstream” vibe. Think heavily inspired by Jimin’s album Muse (seriously, his whole vibe in that is chef’s kiss), sprinkled with some Face flavor, and, honestly, just Jimin being Jimin. Because, let’s face it—he’s my bias, and I’m OBSESSED. Like, full-on crush mode. So, yeah, it’s basically me writing about my ultimate crush 😳 Now, let’s clear the air about the smut—I’m not going all-out with it here (though there will be some spicy moments, don’t worry 😉). Why? Well, I have a sneaky feeling this series is going to do okay (I mean, I adore these characters so much already 🥹, but engagement might be a different story). So, I’m going to save my energy for what really matters to me—the heart and soul of the story, instead of focusing too much on the smut (which, honestly, I’m not as into writing as I used to be). Okay, okay—back on track. I’m super excited to share this story with you, and I really, really hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Don’t forget to tell me your thoughts—whether you love it, hate it, or just want to fangirl over Jimin with me ✨ This whole story (which will be posted every Sunday for the next eight weeks) is for my dear friend @remmykinsff! I hope you’ll love it 💜

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Why the hell do you have so many boxes?” Yoongi groans, his voice slicing through the quiet winter air as he hefts a particularly heavy one—something he clearly should have let Namjoon handle. His breath fogs up like ghostly clouds, a silent testament to the biting cold.

You stand by the moving truck, arms crossed, the chill curling around you like an unwelcome scarf. The streetlamp above flickers weakly, casting long shadows over the small gathering of your life in boxes. You shiver, not just from the cold but from the weight of this moment—watching your brother Yoongi and your best friend Namjoon haul the sum of your memories into the truck, piece by piece, bound for a new beginning.

It wasn’t your choice to leave; the landlord had pulled the rug out from under you with a sudden hike in rent you couldn’t possibly manage. But this wasn’t just an ending. There was a glimmer of hope in the move—a small house on the outskirts of the city with a garden that you could already see yourself tending, sunlight warming your face. Perfect wasn’t something you’d often dared to dream of, but this felt close enough to touch.

Namjoon heaves the final box into the truck and straightens with a satisfied grin. “That’s the last of it. We managed to fit everything,” he says, his breath visible in the frost-tipped air.

Yoongi, less triumphant, leans against the truck, arms crossed, his usual scowl softened by exhaustion. “Not a lot of stuff, huh? Then why does everything weigh as much as a small planet?”

You roll your eyes at him, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Tiny apartments don’t leave room for a lot of stuff,” you murmur, thinking of your now-abandoned shoebox of a home. What you own might not fill much space, but every piece carries its own story, its own weight. To them, it’s just heavy. To you, it’s everything.

“Yoon, you should really hit the gym more,” you tease, your voice laced with playful scorn, though the grin on your face betrays your fondness. The sibling bond—a language of its own, fluent in jabs and unspoken affection.

“Are you calling me weak?” Yoongi snaps, his tone sharp, but the flicker of indignation in his eyes is almost theatrical. He knows the answer. You know he knows. It’s part of the game.

You laugh, the sound light and unbothered, a knowing glint in your eyes as you glance at his slender arms. “I don’t have to say it, do I?”

Before the exchange can escalate, Namjoon steps between you with a calm authority that feels as solid as the ground beneath your feet. “Alright, easy, you two. I’ll take care of the heavy lifting. Yoongi, you drive.”

Yoongi scoffs, letting your remark go as he shoots you a withering look that doesn’t quite land. He climbs into the driver’s seat with a practiced air of resignation, his fingers brushing over the steering wheel as Namjoon closes the back of the truck with a satisfying clunk.

The three of you settle inside the truck, and silence slips in, gentle and familiar, as the hum of the engine vibrates beneath you. The radio crackles to life, filling the space with the soft strains of a slow love song. The melody spills out like liquid silver, sad yet hopeful, and the singer’s voice—a perfect blend of sweetness and longing—wraps around you like a blanket against the cold.

Your chest tightens as the words begin to take root, burrowing into the quiet corners of your heart: “Even though I was pitch black, I can’t stop thinking about you all day long. Without you knowing, I want to take one step, then another, closer to you. Stay with you. I will be your reason. I hope this feeling reaches you.”

You stare out the frosted window, the aching beauty of the lyrics mingling with the soft glow of the late afternoon light. The world outside shifts and transforms as Yoongi steers the truck with steady hands, the city’s sprawling chaos giving way to the calm, snow-dusted edges of the outskirts. Frost clings to the barren trees and lonely streetlamps, their icy shimmer catching the fading sunlight like quiet promises.

There it is—your new beginning, cradled in the quiet of the outskirts. The small house stands modestly, embraced by a low, whispering hedge that frames its quaint charm. A tiny terrace juts out at the front, its stone surface dappled with the faint traces of winter frost. You remember the cozy backyard from the last time you visited—a patch of earth waiting patiently for spring to bring it to life.

Yoongi eases the truck to a stop in front of the house, the engine humming briefly before falling silent. The three of you step out, boots crunching softly against the snow-dusted gravel. Your heart thuds louder with each step as you approach the door. It’s a humble thing—made of frosted glass that blurs the world on the other side, catching the dim afternoon light and casting it gently inside. You know that when the sun graces it, the whole entrance will glow like a promise.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you fit the key into the lock, turning it with a satisfying click. The door creaks open, and you step over the threshold into your new home. It greets you with its smallness—barely 80 square meters—but it feels vast compared to the cramped city apartment you left behind. Here, there’s space to breathe, to begin again. And the rent, blissfully lower than what the city demanded, makes it all the sweeter.

You glance at the neighboring house—a touch larger, its lot sprawling wider—but you don’t feel envy. This space is yours. Yours to fill with laughter, with quiet mornings, with life.

Flipping the light switch, the warm glow floods the entranceway. The layout unfolds before you in inviting simplicity. The entrance flows seamlessly into a snug living room, its openness spilling into the compact kitchen. The single bedroom feels intimate but holds a delightful surprise: a small walk-in closet that sets your heart alight with possibility. The bathroom, unexpectedly spacious, feels almost indulgent—a small luxury you hadn’t dared to imagine.

You stand in the quiet warmth of the space, letting it envelop you. Yes, it’s small. Yes, it’s simple. But it’s yours. For the first time in what feels like forever, you’re not just standing in a house. You’re home.

Namjoon brushes past you with a box in hand, his footsteps purposeful. “Where should I put this?” he asks, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of settling dust.

“In the bedroom, please,” you reply, recognizing your own messy scrawl on the side of the box. He nods, disappearing down the short hallway. Moments later, Yoongi follows, arms burdened with lighter boxes this time, his silent stare speaking louder than words. You’re not sure if it’s disapproval or exhaustion—or maybe a mix of both.

Together, the three of you move with practiced rhythm, unloading the truck, the occasional grunt of effort punctuating the soft winter stillness. One by one, your belongings find their way inside, until finally, after an hour and a half, the truck stands empty. Inside, your life now lies in disarray—boxes scattered like misplaced puzzle pieces across the small living room. Thankfully, the heavier furniture already sits snug in its designated spots, thanks to Namjoon’s methodical eye for order.

You all collapse onto the sofa, a symphony of sighs and tired exhales filling the room. The cushions envelop you like a long-awaited embrace, and you lean back, the ache in your muscles giving way to a fleeting moment of peace.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Yoongi asks, his tone more dutiful than eager. You catch the subtext immediately: he’s ready to leave, and who could blame him?

“No, I’m good,” you reply with a grateful smile, sinking further into the plush comfort of your sofa.

But Namjoon isn’t done yet. “Can we make dinner for you before we go?” he offers, sitting up straight as if a second wind has just hit him. You wave him off, declining politely, but he shakes his head, determined. “I saw a grocery store just down the street. Yoongi and I will grab a few things, and then he’ll cook for you.” He’s already on his feet, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves.

Yoongi remains rooted to the sofa, his arms crossed and his expression somewhere between incredulous and annoyed. “You think I’m going to cook for my baby sister?” he scoffs, throwing you a pointed look.

Namjoon doesn’t miss a beat, rolling his eyes like an exasperated parent. “What, are you planning to let your family starve?”

Yoongi’s brows twitch as he fires back, “She’s over thirty. She’s a grown-ass adult. She can take care of herself.”

Your lips part, ready to volley something back, but before you can, Namjoon grabs Yoongi’s arm, hauling him to his feet with an ease that speaks of strength and familiarity. “Come on, Mr. Grown-Ass-Adult,” he says dryly, shoving Yoongi’s coat into his hands while slipping into his own.

Yoongi grumbles under his breath, but he doesn’t fight it. As Namjoon steers him toward the door, he casts a helpless glance back at you, like a cat begrudgingly herded.

“We’ll be back in a moment,” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, his voice brimming with cheerful authority. “Relax. Or unpack. Your choice.”

The door swings shut behind them, leaving you in the stillness of your new home, the faint scent of winter air lingering. You let out a soft laugh, your heart warm despite the cold. Family might be exhausting, but they’re also everything.

Then the door closes, and for the first time today, you’re alone. The silence wraps around you like a fragile shell, amplifying the creak of settling walls and the faint hum of distant life. You sink into the sofa, letting the stillness settle, until your ears catch something unexpected—a faint thread of melody, a guitar’s quiet murmur drifting through the air.

Curiosity tugs you upright, your steps soft against the floor as you follow the sound. In your new bedroom, you pause, pressing your hand to the wall. The music is clearer now, gentle and raw, strings bending under someone’s practiced fingers. Your new neighbor, perhaps? The thought lingers as you drift back to the kitchen, the faint melody becoming a backdrop to the rustle of cardboard and clinking pans. You begin to unpack—the pans your brother will use to cook, the utensils that clatter together like an impromptu percussion. Cooking has always been his way of showing love, and you can’t wait to taste the comfort it brings.

As you move through the small kitchen, time slips through your fingers like grains of sand. You make progress—each box emptied feels like a small triumph. The living room is next, and though you didn’t bring much, your touch begins to transform the space into something warm, something yours.

The sharp chill of winter sweeps in as the front door swings open, announcing Namjoon and Yoongi’s return. Cold air rushes past them, carrying the earthy scent of snow and fresh groceries. Shoes and coats are shed in a flurry of motion, and Namjoon drags his bags to the counter, while Yoongi mumbles something under his breath—his version of commentary that you’ve long learned to ignore. Yoongi grumbles as he hauls two bags into the kitchen, while Namjoon shoulders four with ease, a playful smirk on his face as he shakes the cold from his hair. Your brother dives into the kitchen, already rifling through drawers to find the pans you just unpacked.

As you help Namjoon sort the groceries, you note their choices: fresh greens, vibrant vegetables, sturdy staples like rice, beans, and coconut milk. Practical and thoughtful, as always. Your brother doesn’t waste time, snapping orders your way to chop this and rinse that. Namjoon, wisely, steers clear of the chaos and retreats to the sofa, knowing better than to tempt fate near a knife.

You and Yoongi move seamlessly, a practiced rhythm born of years of shared meals and unspoken communication. The kitchen fills with the sizzling symphony of cooking: onions crackling, garlic blooming in fragrant waves, and the gentle stir of sauces melding together. The aroma wraps itself around you, warm and grounding, a promise of the meal to come.

When the food is done, the three of you gather at your small round dining table. The plates are filled with comfort—steaming rice, perfectly cooked vegetables, and savory flavors that speak of home. Yoongi hums faintly in approval as he eats, his silence a language of contentment. Namjoon, ever the conversationalist, smiles wide as he asks about the neighborhood. You don’t know much yet, but his enthusiasm fills the gaps.

The meal lingers, rich and satisfying, until the plates are empty and the room carries only the faint scent of what was. They stand to leave, hugs exchanged at the door, their warmth momentarily shielding you from the cold creeping back in. As they drive off, the truck rattling softly into the night, the quiet returns. But this time, it feels different. Not empty.

Your home, though still half-full of boxes, feels alive now, touched by their presence. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Silence settles again, fragile and heavy—except for that faint sound of a guitar, now joined by a man’s voice. It drifts through the stillness, soft and haunting, the kind of melody that reaches into places you didn’t know were aching. From the little you can hear, his voice holds a quiet sorrow, tinged with a beauty that seems almost too fragile for this world. Wrapped in the haze of a full belly and the gentle pull of exhaustion, you sink deeper into the cushions of your couch. The music lulls you, and before you know it, sleep claims you.

When you wake, it’s to the sharp protest of stiff muscles, your body groaning in rebellion. You stretch, long and languid, wincing as you ease into movement. The living room light is still on, casting a warm but tired glow across the scattered boxes. Reaching for your phone, you blink at the screen: Saturday morning.

A sigh escapes you, accompanied by another stretch, your bones clicking softly in protest. As you yawn, the faint strands of music that lulled you to sleep the night before have grown bolder, louder, weaving through the quiet morning air. It’s coming from next door, a melody more insistent now, rising and falling like a tide against your walls.

You pause, half-annoyed, half-curious. Who plays music so loudly on a Saturday morning? Still, it isn’t unpleasant. The sound curls around you, melancholy and mesmerizing, coaxing goosebumps to bloom along your arms.

Shaking off the morning grogginess, you shuffle into the kitchen to make tea, the faint chill of the floor against your bare feet grounding you. As the kettle hums and hisses to life, your attention drifts back to the music. This song, like the one before, carries a sadness that pierces through its beauty, the kind of sorrow that feels personal yet strangely universal.

You sip your tea slowly, the warmth unfurling through your chest, and let the notes wrap around you. The lyrics, muffled but achingly tender, float into your thoughts. A sad love song, you think—heartache distilled into sound.

And then, for a fleeting moment, your mind wanders. Who is your neighbor, and what might they be feeling? It’s hard not to wonder. To play songs like this on a quiet Saturday morning—it speaks of longing, of loss, of someone trying to untangle the knots of their heart.

Exhaustion anchors you to the couch, your body heavy with the weight of weeks spent unpacking, working, and simply trying to adjust. The hours blur together as you let yourself drift, half-lost in the steady stream of music flowing from your neighbor’s house. Sad love songs, one after another, their melodies curling through the air like smoke, filling the silence with their ache. At least your neighbor has good taste; the voice is mesmerizing, familiar, tugging at the edges of your memory. And then it clicks: you’ve heard it before, floating from car radios or playing softly in cafes.  

Nearly two weeks slip by, the days stacked like unopened letters. Despite the proximity, you’ve yet to meet your enigmatic neighbor, though their music has become an unintentional soundtrack to your life. Namjoon, ever the social butterfly, has nudged you more than once to pay them a visit. “Just say hi,” he urged, grinning. But socializing hasn’t exactly been high on your list, not when there are boxes to unpack, deadlines to meet, and your energy drained to its dregs.  

Still, a seed of worry takes root. The songs haven’t changed—still steeped in longing, still carrying that unshakable sadness. Day after day, it’s as if the house next door is exhaling heartbreak. Maybe Namjoon’s right. Maybe you should go introduce yourself, ask about the neighborhood, and gently check if everything’s okay.  

Which is how you find yourself walking up the snow-dusted path to your neighbor’s door, nerves prickling like the winter air against your skin. Their house looms larger than yours, its quiet elegance a subtle reminder of its age and stature. Even the door, frosted glass like your own, feels imposing—a pale barrier between curiosity and the answers waiting behind it.  

Your footsteps crunch softly on the frozen ground as you approach. You hesitate, your breath clouding in the cold, before raising a hand to knock. For good measure, you press the doorbell too, its chime echoing faintly into the stillness.  

And then you wait, heart thrumming in quiet anticipation.  

The music drifts out from the house, faint yet achingly persistent, wrapping around you like the winter chill. You shift on your feet, blowing warmth into your hands, impatient as the cold nips at your nose and fingers. Just as the thought of retreating crosses your mind, the door creaks open.

Your gaze lowers, meeting a pair of wide, brown curious eyes belonging to a little girl. She’s impossibly small, bundled in a sweater too big for her, her dark hair a gentle mess. Her smile, shy but sweet, carries a warmth that momentarily pushes back the frost.

“Hi,” she says, her voice as soft as a whisper of wind through snow-covered trees. She studies you carefully, her head tilting as though trying to puzzle you out.

You return her smile, bending slightly to her level. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I just moved in next door.” A pause, then a gentle laugh. “I was getting a little worried with all the sad music coming from here. Are your parents home?”

Her smile falters, her gaze flickering downward before rising to meet yours again. There’s something heavy in her small expression, far too much for a child her age. “It’s just me and my dad,” she says quietly, her voice tinged with something you can’t quite name.

Your heart clenches at her words, though you don’t fully understand why. She’s so young, so sweet, and yet there’s a fragility to her presence that stirs something protective in you. For a moment, you wonder about her mother, where she might be, what might have happened.

“Is your dad home?” you ask gently, your tone as soft as your smile.

She nods, stepping back into the warm glow of the house. “I’ll go get him. Please wait here,” she says, her words so polite they make you smile again. She scurries off, leaving you at the threshold with the frosty air swirling in around your feet.

As you stand there, you catch glimpses of the house’s interior: the dim light casting long shadows, the faint smell of wood and something floral, and always that music—a bittersweet tune that seeps into every corner.

When she returns, she isn’t alone. A man follows her, his presence filling the doorway.

Your breath catches, your jaw slack as your mind struggles to process the sight before you. You’d expected the father of the sweet little girl to be ordinary, unassuming. But this? This man? He’s a vision pulled straight from the realm of angels.

The first thing you notice is his presence—tall, confident, yet carrying a quiet weariness that tugs at the edges of his posture. He’s dressed simply, but somehow that makes him all the more striking. A plain white t-shirt stretches across his chest, the sleeves rolled just enough to bare sinewy arms, and on his wrist, a faint tattoo peeks out like a secret. His black dress pants sit high on his impossibly small waist, falling loosely down his legs in elegant folds, a sharp contrast to the effortless way he carries himself.

And then there’s his face—soft yet devastatingly sharp, a contradiction of beauty. His jawline is so defined, it looks as if it could carve through stone, and yet his full lips, slightly parted as if mid-thought, ground him in warmth. His eyes—soft brown, tender, and framed by glasses and sleeplessness—pull you in, speaking of long nights and untold stories.

His hair, warm blonde kissed with streaks of brown at the roots, falls in uneven waves, longer in the back. It looks as if it was tousled by the wind or restless fingers, and you can’t help but wonder if he even knows how effortlessly beautiful he is. A few faint birthmarks dot his skin, adding something human to a face that feels otherworldly. As he steps closer, his features soften even more, and your pulse quickens.

“Hi,” he says, his voice a low, soothing melody that sinks into your bones. It’s angelic yet grounded, the kind of sound that lingers, reverberating long after the words are spoken. “What can I do for you?”

For a moment, you forget how to speak, how to breathe, how to exist. All your intentions, your purpose, your very reason for knocking on his door dissolve under the weight of his gaze. You can only stare, unmoored, helplessly captivated.

“This lady said she’s our new neighbor,” the girl chirps beside him, her bright voice cutting through your daze like sunlight through clouds. She looks up at her father with a grin, and he nods, clearing his throat.

He steps closer, extending a hand toward you, the motion deliberate and polite. His hand is warm when it meets yours, soft in a way that belies the calluses at his fingertips—marks of labor, of skill, of a life lived. 

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” he says with a gentle smile, and you realize your heart is racing, thundering in your chest like it’s trying to escape.

“My name is Jimin, and this is my daughter, Hwa-Young,” he says, his voice soft yet resonant, like the distant hum of a melody that refuses to be forgotten. It’s only then that you realize—mortifyingly—that you’re still holding his hand, the warmth of his palm grounding you far too much. With a jolt, you release it, your cheeks burning like embers, the sting of your foolishness wrapping itself around you. This is why you don’t talk to people, you scold yourself silently. You’re a mess. A fool.

The moment blurs, and you barely register Jimin’s words as he politely repeats something—was it your name? Before you can respond, Hwa-Young steps in, her voice clear and chiming with youthful certainty. “Her name is Y/N,” she declares with the pride of someone who’s solved a puzzle.

Jimin smiles, his expression warm enough to melt the frost clinging to your thoughts, and opens the door wider. “Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea, Y/N?”

You nod mutely, words lodged somewhere between your heart and throat. Speaking feels too dangerous; your silence, you hope, can’t betray how tangled your thoughts have become.

Inside, the house welcomes you with a kind of quiet charm. You peel off your coat and shoes, swapping them for a pair of slippers left by the entryway. The hallway leads you into a living room bathed in soft, creamy tones, its minimalist style broken only by the unmistakable fingerprint of family. Children’s drawings hang on the walls in uneven rows, their vibrant colors a stark but beautiful contrast to the muted decor. A small clay sculpture, wobbling slightly on its base, sits proudly on a side table. It feels like stepping into a story—a place where every corner holds a piece of life lived and loved.

Jimin gestures toward the sofa, and you sink into its inviting cushions, the fabric soft against your fingers. Hwa-Young follows, nestling beside you with a quiet familiarity, her presence grounding. From the nearby kitchen, the faint clatter of porcelain and the rustling of tea packets signal Jimin’s quiet movements.

The room feels alive with warmth, not just from the home itself but from the gentle energy of its inhabitants. You take it all in—the way the light filters through the curtains in golden streaks, the faint scent of lavender mingling with the hum of boiling water, and the soft chatter of a child’s imagination as Hwa-Young shows you a paper star she made.

You glance toward the kitchen, where Jimin moves with unhurried grace, and a strange calm settles over you. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected meeting wasn’t such a mistake after all.

“Are you from the city?” Hwa-Young asks, her voice bright with curiosity, her smile tugging at the corners of her youthful face. You nod, mirroring her smile with one of your own.

“Yes, I just moved in about two weeks ago,” you reply, the words tumbling out like snowflakes in the quiet. “How old are you?”

“I just turned ten!” she exclaims, her voice brimming with pride, her grin wide and unrestrained. Somehow, the innocence in her joy stirs something deep within you, a warmth that begins to thaw the cold edges of your weary heart.

“Congratulations,” you say softly, folding your hands in your lap as if to hold the fragile moment still.

Jimin enters the room, carrying two steaming mugs of tea. He sets them gently on the coffee table, the soft clink of ceramic against wood breaking the silence. With effortless grace, he disappears briefly, returning with a glass of water for his daughter. As he takes his seat in a plush chair opposite you, his presence feels both calming and grounding, like the steady rhythm of a familiar song.

“How are you liking the town so far?” he asks, his voice carrying a soothing cadence, as if he’s accustomed to drawing out answers with kindness alone.

Lifting the mug to your lips, you blow softly on the surface of the tea, the fragrant steam curling upward like a wisp of memory. “I like it so far,” you say, your tone reflective, as though you’re still making sense of this new chapter in your life.

The faintest flicker of realization ignites, and you remember the reason for your visit. You set the mug down, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “I haven’t seen much of it yet. Between work and unpacking, I’ve barely had a chance to explore. But, actually…”

He takes another sip of his tea, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger. The delicate curve of his lashes, impossibly long and casting soft shadows on his cheekbones, draws your attention. His lips—pink, full, and unassuming—meet the edge of the mug, and for a brief, absurd moment, you find yourself wondering how something so simple could be so captivating.

What are you even thinking? You shake off the thought, clearing your throat.

“Ah, yes,” you stammer, a little too loudly. “I couldn’t help but notice…” You trail off, grappling for the right words. “I’ve heard a lot of sad songs coming from your house since I moved in, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Like, not…heartbroken or anything?”

Your words hang in the air, an awkward tangle of concern and curiosity, and you silently curse yourself for blurting them out. Was that a question or a statement? Even you aren’t sure.

But then he smiles—a real, genuine smile—and for a split second, his eyes vanish into crescents of warmth. His teeth peek out, slightly crooked, but so charming it nearly takes your breath away. Running a hand through his tousled blonde hair, he chuckles softly, his laugh like a melody in itself.

“Oh, that’s me. I’m the one guilty of all the sad music,” he admits, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that makes you feel at ease despite your earlier awkwardness.

Your brow furrows in thought as you tap your pointer finger against your lips, the name of the voice eluding you. “What’s the name of the artist? I know I’ve heard him on the radio, but I just can’t place it…”

His smile blooms, radiant and unrestrained, his eyes crinkling into crescents of pure light. “That’s me,” he says, a giggle escaping his lips, soft and melodic like the hum of a lullaby.

You blink at him, utterly perplexed, your mind spinning as you try to piece together what he could mean. “Sorry?” you venture hesitantly, hoping for clarity, your confusion painted plainly across your face.

“The artist,” he explains, his voice effortlessly calm and sure, “is Park Jimin. And I’m Park Jimin.”

The name lands in your ears, but it takes a second longer for the meaning to sink in. His daughter bursts into delighted laughter, while you sit frozen, your expression surely something straight out of a cartoon—wide eyes, jaw unhinged, disbelief written all over you.

Your thoughts race, chasing one another in circles. His voice, angelic and hauntingly beautiful, had felt familiar from the moment you heard it. And suddenly, the puzzle clicks into place. The songs—the ones that wrapped around you like a bittersweet embrace—were his. His.

Your eyes dart toward one of the rooms down the hall, where the music had been flowing endlessly up until the moment he greeted you. But now, the silence is palpable, a stillness that confirms your dawning realization. It wasn’t the stereo at all. It was him.

“Daddy, show her a song!” Hwa-Young pipes up, her small voice brimming with excitement as she hops off the couch and scampers toward a room. The door is ajar, revealing a glimpse of equipment and scattered papers.

Jimin’s smile softens, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle invitation. Without a word, he rises and gestures for you to follow. And as though caught in a spell, you do, your curiosity pulling you forward.

His studio is a world unto itself—a symphony of black and white, sleek lines, and personal chaos. Guitars in all shapes and sizes line the walls, their polished bodies gleaming under soft light. A microphone stands at attention, its cable curling like a lifeline to the scattered pages of sheet music littering the desk and floor.

It’s not just a room; it’s a glimpse into his soul, a sanctuary of sound and vulnerability. You can’t help but let your gaze linger, taking in the effortless beauty of it all.

Hwa-Young leaps onto the couch with a boundless energy that only a child can muster, the cushions bouncing under her weight. She pats the spot beside her, a silent invitation laced with an innocent warmth. You accept, settling in as Jimin crosses the room with a quiet confidence, his every movement purposeful yet unassuming. He retrieves an acoustic guitar, its wood glowing faintly under the soft overhead light, and perches on a nearby stool.

“Play her that new song, dad,” Hwa-Young beams, her voice lilting with pride and affection. She leans back into the couch, her tiny frame dwarfed by its embrace, but her presence fills the room.

Jimin nods, a soft smile tugging at his lips, and then his fingers meet the strings. A single strum reverberates, low and tender, a sound that seems to dissolve the walls and pull you into a different world. 

And then he sings.

His voice flows like a stream over smooth stones—gentle, searching, yet laced with a fragile ache. Feather-light and haunting, it brushes against you, delicate as a whisper yet powerful enough to root you in place. “We never met, but she’s all I see at night.Never met but she’s always on my mind.Wanna give her the world,And so much more.Who is my heart waiting for?If every day I think about her,Yeah, every day of my life.Then tell me why I haven’t found her.”

Each note hangs in the air like a secret meant only for this moment, for you, for the stillness that has settled over the room. Your mind empties, swept clean by the sheer beauty of his voice, each syllable carrying raw emotion that you can’t help but feel, though it’s not your story to claim.

You watch him, this man who pours his heart so freely before a stranger, as if vulnerability were as natural as breathing. His fingers dance over the strings with practiced ease, but it’s the weight in his voice—the yearning, the quiet pain—that lingers in your chest.

A flicker of a question rises, unbidden, as you take in the scene—a renowned singer-songwriter, his talent unmistakable, living humbly in this crappy and cheap neighborhood. Why here? Why this place, when his voice alone could carry him anywhere? But the question dissipates as quickly as it forms, lost in the tide of his music. At this moment, none of it matters.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv

→ Series taglist: @13-manggaetteok @mima795 @hnnnjm @flaneuseonthestreets @miniesjams32 @graydolan12

→ Author’s endnote: soooo?? Tell me everything! What do you think about Jimin? Is he stealing your heart yet, or is it his adorable daughter who’s totally got you wrapped around her tiny finger? 👀💜 And don’t even get me started on what’s coming next... are you excited? Nervous? Ready to cry?? Because trust me, the next chapter has all the feels™. Let’s hear your thoughts—I’m dying to know!

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[newkatzkafe2023]

We have a dom yn

Now we need a Yandere dom yn. Imagine how Yandere us rocks their world and the guys are finding they have a new kink?

Sorry Mommy🤭

(Lmk Wukong) Ohhhhhhhh He's on his knees for you, his brain melting out his ears and the space between his eyes will get wider. You have turned him into your favorite monkey pet with a collar and leash and all. Their will be hearts in his eyes as he chirps and purrs and squeaks as you make him crawl on all fours before giving him his addict meal on his face. Such a good pet husband he is making you see stars while he sees hearts.

(NR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh you had tied him up and took him home about a few months ago. Like I saw before your gonna try so many k*nks on him, he's basically a compete freak of nature for you to play with. You can also use all kinds of toys on him and even whip him so much, he'll make an inhumane noise of pleasure as you brain his brain in half😳

(MKR Wukong) He is sooooooo into this. He's found himself giggling and blushing as you rough him up. Yeah, he's a tough one, so you need to give him some extra attention, hence his decent into madness and pleasure. Making him a compete addict to please you, do whatever he has to do to have you all to himself. Make him dependent and look to you for guidance and affection, yes your his new mistress now and forever more.

(HIB Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh Man all you need to do for him is to crush his head with your thighs and birthing hips, and Wukong would forever be yours. You both would go at it for hours to a whole day whenever you dare to hint that you wanna a little cub to take care of, and he'll be on you like white on rice🤤 Don't hold back either make sure to fracture his pelvis!!!!😍

(Netflix Wukong) MAMA noooo😩😩😩 Yeah treat this little king like a compete baby, it will make his head spin so fast he would honestly think he's a cub again. Make him scream for mommy as you ride him until the sun comes up, he'll suck, and bite, and chirp, and purr, and squeak and cream all over the place. Even with all that Wukong wouldn't dare to stop you, after all your his mommy, make sure to praise and smother your cute baby boy and his mind will completely go blank😵

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh Step on him and he'll not only thank you, but beg for you to do it again. You should knock him right off his high horse and show him who's the real boss here. Wukong mind would be in shambles for a totally different reason, as you humiliate him and bring him to ruin. Totally Hypnotize him and make sure he's completely under your spell, make him your forever 🥰🥵

(Destined one) They say that the quiet one are the Freakiest, so with that logic......COMPETELY RUIN HIM BEYOND REPAIR🤯🤯🥵🥵 preform every k*nk you yourself can think off to him. Ravage his entire body like a savage beast, and frighten and terrorize a good way. You will demolish his mind entirely make him feel like he sold his soul to you forever...........safe to say the Destined one will never be the same🤤

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🔞

[justwritedreams]

Hello

A headcanon of Kyungsoo realizing he has feelings for the reader

I'm enjoying that you're asking members that I haven't written yet CONTINUE!

KYUNGSOO REALIZING THAT HE HAS FEELINGS FOR YOU

Author: Maari

Warnings: minor errors probably because i wrote it in the break of work

So you and him have been friends for a long time

You have a lot in common

Enjoy having in-depth conversations on a variety of topics

You like to do the same things

And you are each other's excuse to get away from noisy and crowded places

And one day, you managed to escape from a club

How had you ended up there? Ask his extrovert friends

None of you wanted to go but it wasn't like you could say no

Thank you Chanyeol 🫡

So when you accepted his ride, you could finally breathe a sigh of relief as you got into the silent car

Both of your heads ached from the loud music

And you were so sleepy that you leaned against the car window even as he was driving

"I thought you couldn't get away from Baekhyun" he chuckled

And you, of course, laughed along, looking at him

He was so focused and so handsome

"I didn't remember he talked so much, I thought you were going to leave me there" you said and his laugh increased

"Don't think it didn't cross my mind"

And you were like 😲

Your plan had been simple:

The two would take a 5 minute break to go to the bathroom but actually you would run to the door and leave the place

But Baekhyun delayed you because he kept telling you how sad he was because his girlfriend had gone on a business trip

Although far away, you could see Kyungsoo's bored face in the middle of the crowd, waiting for you 🤣

But it wasn't like you were going to argue with him because

You would do the same lol

You just smiled and closed your eyes, too tired to talk

And he not only understood, he respected 🥺

And when he turned to face you real quick

Damn!

He never noticed before how you had a glow of your own

He frowned thinking it was some illusion in his head

Or that kind of intrusive thinking that no one has control

He dropped you off at home and you invited him in

And he was more worried about you because you had worked a lot during the week

And on Friday you looked like a zombie, you were so tired

So he accepted

He felt good in your house, it was quiet, it brought peace

You lay down on the couch and he helped you take off your shoes

As he already knew your house, he went to get a blanket so you wouldn't be cold during the night

And when he came back, you were already asleep

Sounds cliche, right?

But well, the time he put the cover on you

He couldn't help but push the hair that fell into your eyes

And it was only then, watching you sleep so serenely that he felt his heart warm

Anxiety in the stomach that wasn't bad at all

And an involuntary smile appeared on his face

And when he leaned in to kiss you

He was like oH 😳

He straightened up again but brought his hand to his mouth.

Not believing that he had almost done that because

Damn, was he in love with you?? Since when?

He was always very clear about what he felt, what he thought...

And he just now noticed that he likes you?

Poor baby left your house so confused he couldn't even remember where he had put his car keys 🤣🤣

But he wouldn't be the only one confused

Because good luck if you think he's going to leave things the way they were

Expect a very sincere confession 👀

[thomashelbyswife]

M, since it’s the 10th anniversary of Peaky, I’d love to know what you think are the 10 best perks of being Mrs. Shelby.

Oh dear!! 😳 Lee @zablife 💕 you got me good with this one. I love you for sending this one in you had me squealing 🤭 this gif makes my heart burst

I had so much fun writing this I was blushing the entire time.

Best perks of being Mrs. Shelby are:

10. Being the only person that can put out his demons which helps him relax.

9. Riding horses with him and spending most of their times in the stables.

8. Waiting for him to come home and jumping into his arms straight away (I always find this part my most fav of the day and I look forward to it is very dear to me) cause lets be real he'd only be coming home just for her.

7. Lounging around his study while he works, sat infront of the fireplace flipping through fashion catalouges & magazines.

6. Having the best lovemaking sessions 🔞 (oh they are just so good they always start in his study a bit of teasing or whenver tommy feels extra needy slightly raising her dress and it is indeed a very delighful sight!)

5. Her watching his face light up everytime with heart eyes & that special smile of his just for Mrs. Shelby (I melt everytime)

4. Being startled with long - loving neck kisses & backhugs out of nowhere.

3. Being very much ✨️ SPOILED ✨️ getting gifts all the time with tons of new jewellery - her favourite diamonds, imported silky nightgowns, dresses, lingerie, fancy furs cause he's obsessed with Mrs. Shelby looking like a real queen. (BASICALLY THE WHOLE WORLD WOULD BE AT HER FEET!!!)

2. The pleasure of having all the love and seeing the softest Tommy Shelby ever, being extremely loved and very taken care of even though he doesn't have that much time on his hands but for Mrs. Shelby he has all the time in the world.

1. Being Mrs. Shelby 🤭 basically the title is very heavy and it speaks for itself.

+ a bonus I might add cause I think about these two all the time!!

✨️ Having to carry around a spare pack of cigarettes and a lighter in your purse at all times just in case cause you'll never know when he'll get grumpy so as Mrs. Shelby be ready for anything.

✨️ Having him call for her just to fix the tie-knot and the lapels of his suit jacket along with his beloved pocket watch cause he just loves to hear her and her jewellery covered hands making sounds around him which relaxes him & awakens something in him. (an image he wants to burn in his brain forever)

(these are my top 10 but the list goes on forever) 🥰

[kingofthe-egirls]

ASCENDING POLYAMORY: LUFFY/SANJI/OC THREESOME 😳

fox tales

(cw: sex, cunnilingus, daddy luffy for a bit, threesome, polyamory, food mention, orgasm denial, sub sanji)

(a/n: i've been polyamorous for a few years, now, with my own share of expectations vs. heartbreak. it's not a perfect system; it's relationships and real people and real world sex. i love writing about it, confusingly working through things i've been through irl. how flawed you can be)

Songs: "Hard Feelings/Loveless" by Lorde

words: 1.4k

***

“You’re mine,” Luffy pants into your ear, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. He’s thrusting at a breakneck pace, and you see stars.

“‘M yours,” you manage out, breath hitching in your throat. You were gonna cum.

It hits you like a wave, and you gasp your way through it. Luffy looks down at you with victory in his eyes. Dark energy flits around him, like he’s fucking you with his conquerer’s haki.

“No one gets to fuck you like this, yeah?” He punctuates his words with every thrust, “Not even that stupid cook.” He buries his face in your neck, and you do your best to hold on.

“Cumming,” you whine, and Luffy speeds up. You cry out, tears pricking at your eyes. He slows for a bit, intense but not angry with you. Not a punishment, like he said before tumbling you into his bed. Sex would never be a punishment, with you.

He just wanted to remind you who’s boss.

“Captain,” you say, panting, “My turn.”

He flashes a searing grin at you, his handsome face covered in pleasure, and flips you over with ease. His body is glistening, magnetic, and you do your best to please him. You sink down onto his length, even further than before, and you both sigh in unison. You ride him, swiftly. Butterflies shiver all the way down to your toes.

“Love you,” he pants, thrusting up into you despite what you’d said, “Love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, speeding up. “Can I cum?”

“Not yet,” he grunts, holding you in place with thick hands. Bruising force against your hips. You whine, but don’t complain. You let him shift you back and forth at his own pace. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“That I love my captain, deliriously?” You ask, looking down at him with a flash in your eyes. He nods, speeding up. “That I love him more than anything in the whole world? More than I love food,” you lean down to wrap your arms around his sweaty neck, and he huffs out a giddy laugh.

“Know that’s not true,” he says, his breath tickling your ear. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Luffy,” you whine, another orgasm creeping up the length of your spine. “I love you more than cookies, or chicken, or shrimp—,”

He grunts, filling you up to the brim. You shudder, clenching your pussy around his seed. The feeling of him shooting a hot load inside you is enough to trigger your orgasm on its own, but the sounds Luffy makes—the little high pitched “ahh! ah!”s that break off into a raspy whine—are what finally tip you over the edge.

For a moment, you both breathe.

Then Luffy nuzzles into your neck, and pecks a kiss on your cheek. “Are ya done?” He asks innocently, staring at you with his pupils blown.

Shy, you shake your head. “Nuh uh,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Want more of you.”

He giggles, loving how long you can go. He runs his fingers up your side, and your ribcage flutters beneath him. He looks up at you with awe. His voice cracks as he asks, “Wanna make Sanji watch?”

“Fuck—,” you gasp, a thrill running through you at that. The thought of Sanji’s blushed, gorgeous face watching you two go at it—well. You couldn’t imagine a better sight.

“Go get him,” Luffy murmurs, brushing back your tangled hair. (You’d figure out how to brush it, one of these days. Maybe Nami could lend you a hand.)

“Now?” You ask, pulling yourself off him with a muffled groan. He grins.

“Now.”

***

After a harrowing trip to the kitchen, Luffy’s cum leaking out of your hastily thrown on shorts, you stand before your lovely cook.

“W-what?!” He splutters, spilling the dirty dishes into the sink.

“Luffy wants you to watch,” you repeat, itching back and forth on your feet. “Please.”

Sanji blurts out a noise between a gasp and a groan, and grips the counter for balance. You twitch an eyebrow. Blood trickles from his nose.

“Do you want to?” You ask, not wanting to make your cook uncomfortable. “It’s only fun if you want to.”

“I want to!” He says, too hastily. He wipes his hands with a dish towel. “Let me get ready.”

***

Now, he stands before you with his cock in his fist, panting like a dog. His face is flushed a crimson pink, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Luffy’s face is between your legs.

“Fuck—,” you moan out, your hands in his raven hair, “Keep going, Luffy, please—!”

Luffy hums, his tongue lapping at your clit. Suddenly, he stops. Stands up. “Kneel,” he snaps at his cook. Sanji obeys, immediately. “Pleasure her,” he says, and steps away from the bed. “I wanna watch now.”

Sanji crawls over to the edge of the bed, slender hands ghosting up your legs. You tremble, meeting his lust-filled gaze with nerves in your belly. Blue like sapphires, you think.

“Is it alright, mon cherie?” He whispers, breath warm on your inner thigh. You nod, face hot. Oh, yes.

“Please,” you whine, bucking your hips toward his face. Luffy’s cum from earlier trickles down your pussy and onto the bed. Sanji laps it up like a dog.

“Good boy,” Luffy says from his spot near the bed. He was fisting his cock now, too. “Eat my cum out of her. Know what I taste like, and don’t ever forget it.”

“Yes, sir,” Sanji manages out, before burying his tongue deep inside you. You cry out, curling forward with your hands in his hair. You grip him tightly, rutting into his face.

“S-Sanji—,” you moan out, as he moves from eating you out to sucking your clit. “Harder.”

He obliges, and you cum with a prismatic shudder down your spine. Your toes curl where your legs are wrapped around his neck. Sanji hums.

You look up, wanting Luffy’s warm body next to you again.

“Cmere?” You ask, meeting Luffy’s gaze above Sanji’s blond head, and he holds it for a moment too long. He shakes his head.

“Not yet,” he licks his lips, “Wanna see ya cum again.” His eyes rove your body like flames licking your skin. You flush under his gaze.

Sanji moans from beneath you, and you pet his golden head. You let your eyes fall shut, as the thrill of being pleasured in front of your boyfriend, by his cook, shoots through you like a lightning bolt. Your core tightens, and soon enough you’re curling forward around Sanji’s face.

The ship rocks in the waves as you struggle for breath, the ocean lapping at the Sunny the only sound besides Sanji’s tongue and Luffy’s cock, both working furiously toward their highs. You wanted to reach them, too. Wanted to feel glitter down your spine.

“I’m—,” you let go, letting your mind go blank, and rocket toward space with Sanji’s tongue guiding the way. It’s warm, and wet, and slick—

Oh.

“Good girl,” Luffy pants, his own seed coating his fist. His abs were coated in a sheen of sweat, his muscles glistening in the lamplight. You moan at the sight.

“Cmere,” you say again, and this time he obliges. You meet him in a kiss, sweeter than you expected, and look down to see his bruised-knuckle hand gently petting Sanji’s head. The blond looks up with hazy eyes at the two of you.

“That was fun,” he says, and you both let out a breathy laugh. Luffy is silent, and you look up to see him scowling. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s ducked to crouch directly in front of Sanji. He takes the blond’s face in both hands, squishing his cheeks in gently.

“Sanji,” he asks seriously, “Was I too rough on you?”

Sanji blushes, and Luffy takes his second of silence as his answer. Your captain throws his arms around Sanji’s neck, barreling into him with the force of his apology.

“‘M sorry!” He cries out, face buried in Sanji’s neck. “I should’ve asked first…”

Sanji pulls away, wiping at the glittering tears at the edges of his captain’s stormy grey eyes. “It’s okay,” he reassures the sniffling boy, “I forgive you.”

Luffy hiccups, grinning sheepishly at Sanji’s echoed words. “Next time we should use a safe word,” Luffy suggests, and you’re surprised he even knows what that means.

“Pineapple?” Sanji says, grinning as he pulls at his captain’s rubber cheek. It snaps back into place with a loud slap. “I need to get you to eat more of that, anyway,” he grins mischievously, “Your cum tastes vile.”

[papa-evershed]

I’m curious… what do you think are the sexiest gifs of Rob EVER? 😏 I’d love to see ‘em.

I apologize for my late answer but like a weirdo, I was just convinced that my choices would somehow be disappointing. 😅🙈 I just feel like most people are going to expect gifs of kissing scenes or skin but those aren't even the ones that make me the most feral. But I'll give it a shot. 😂

As always, under a read more for length but also for cringe worthy fangirling and NSFW thirst-talk.

Immediately, my first thought was this gif. When I say I adore this man's belly I fucking mean it. He's just so deliciously man-shaped. Tall and thick and soft in all the right places. I love a belly, lets me know that a person isn't too militant and allows themselves to indulge in life's pleasures. 😏😏 (I'm reading way too much into a belly but here we are.) Add in the fact that in this specific scene, Martin Evershed is being the ultimate soft, caring Dad™. He has every reason in the world to lose his shit on Sam but instead he actively chooses to be what she needs in that moment and it's just incredibly sexy because he is a whole ass Man™. I just wrote a fucking novel about this one gif but listen, there's a reason it's first that comes to mind.

The thumb in the mouth? 🙃

Speaking of Act On This, this one too. I'm not even sure if I can put my finger on exactly why this specific gif is one of my favorites. Perhaps because he's usually so smiley (which I adore) that a rare serious/stern look wrecks me. Another reason I want him cast as a villain. Just...yes, sir.

And on the flip side, these because he's just so soft again. I fucking love soft men, ones who don't seem to have that drive to constantly perform their own personal version of hyper-masculinity. (also, I'd suck a random dick off the street to get this in HQ)

I'm a simple creature and I like profiles, noses, and tits.

Like I said, I'm a simple creature and I am no better than any man.

When the right men manspread at the right time? Yes. Yes, that.

When Dad™ shows up to save the day? Get that man a beer and a blowjob.

And while I love it when a man is great with kids...I also think it's incredibly sexy when he's tired of their bullshit cause aren't we all sometimes? 😅

FUZZY GREY NECK? say no more. Also, I'd stand in a three hour long line to wait my turn to ride his thigh like he was the carousel at Disney World. I said what I said.

Hutch. Just Hutch. Everything about the character was sexy. And bless this t-shirt. The shoulders. The arms. The fuzzy neck. The nose. He could 100% talk me into sleeping in that creepy ass cabin and much like Phil, we'd also wake up naked and calling out to God.

Annnd because I feel like it's expected and it does deserve attention, this kiss with Papa E. Listen. Listen. So many fucking onscreen kisses go from 0 to 60 in .000005 seconds. Just immediate face-fucking right out the gate. And IDK about y'all but that shit just isn't enjoyable in real life. Don't assault my fucking face like a Dallas Cowboy's linebacker. 🙃 Ease into it. Warm up. Mr. Evershed will patiently take his time making you so anxiously desperate for more that when he finally does deepen that kiss your lips will be eagerly wet and ready...heh. 🙈

Anyway. 😳 I've been really good about not being thirsty on main anymore and this is still quite tame for me but I'm gonna stop now because this post could go on all night. 🫠

[finnickyslut]

*jingling an empty bowl* can I please have more truth-warping AU please?

Oh, god! Thank you for the interest, nonnie.

... I'm wholly unprepared for this.😳😬

This whole au has consisted basically in an idiotic amount of research (divorce in the UK during the 80s, Merseyside, air ambulance in the UK in 2007, overdose symptoms, treatment and survival window, and on it goes) and an even more ridiculous amount of me creating a choose your own adventure for any and every scene because I'm a scatterbrain. 😅

So! I'm going to try to focus on one thing (let's say the maze + overdose part) but let me preemptively apologize for any rambling, digressing etc.

...

One thing that was clear to me is that the maze scene needed to happen basically the same up to "you make my blood run cold" because it's what leads Oliver to the abyss. (And for a later scene in the hospital, but that's for another occassion.)

Apart from that, I thought several options would make sense and be interesting.

In scenario A, Oliver reaches the conclusion that Felix is upset because fake drama is unfulfilling and doesn't let him be the hero for real, so he just has to give him a real issue. Cue Oliver adulterating the bottle for himself and drinking enough to hopefully give Felix something pathetic enough to really chew on or a chance to save the day.

Here, the agitation/aggressiveness, labored breathing, paleness, and vomiting are early signs of overdosing, and Felix may take a small swig of the concotion but gets it taken off him soon enough. The background is different but the whole scene is almost identical except Oliver leaves the center of the maze with the bottle.

Otherwise, Oliver poisons the bottle because the only thing he knows is if his apology goes wrong there's no way both of them can leave the maze alive (that's actually part of what prompted this AU, the thesis that the inevitable end in the face of rejection wasn't necessarily Felix's death, but Oliver doing something extreme to one or both of them.)

With how definitive Felix's rejection feels, he decides he may as well put himself out of his misery.

He pushes himself off Felix, takes a long gulp while staring defiantly (reflecting on it later on, Felix will realize Oliver was actually taking him in for what he thought would be the last time), maybe makes a scorned comment, and leaves.

I'm any scenario, Felix takes a moment to calm himself (let's say 15 min), goes to take the easy way out, realizes Oliver went a different way, and something makes him take that path too.

He finds Oliver passed out and the bottle on its side. He looks terribly clammy, is unresponsive and something's wrong with his pulse .

Felix Takes him in his arms and gets out of maze as fast as possible. Goes looking for Duncan (Duncan always knows what to do and misteriously appears whenever he's needed). They call emergency services.

(At this point I pondered if the Cattons wouldn't have had med tent and discarded the notion because they're fabulously rich AND fabulously unprepared for things not going precisely their way.)

Btw, very conveniently for me and for Felix's chances on getting to ride with Oliver, it seems that the UK didn't have a night service for air ambulances back then.

Duncan and Felix follow directions from dispatch and decide to take care of things themselves because God forbid the party gets ruined (priorities!). Normally it's not advised to try  to meet the ambulance along the way, but in this case, because Saltburn is pretty out of the way and has the gates and all, Duncan drives Oliver and Felix to the intersection with the main road.

At this point Felix is perturbed, distressed, and genuinely worried for Oliver, but his white knight streak is chomping at the bit, too. He needs to see this to the end, make sure both that Oliver gets out of the woods and that Oliver's family knows how deeply unwell he is and gets him some help.

Either they let him go in the ambulance because he was with the patient shortly before he went downhill and can give them details (Felix knows Oliver seemed mostly sober a couple hours ago at candle blowing and had certain symptoms less than 30 min before the call but was conscious. He suspects cocaine too because of traces in the bottle) orrrrr he conveniently mentions he may have drunk from the same bottle and potentially be patient 2.

Annnddd end scene.

Hopefully that was some of what you were curious about, but feel free to ask more, though I can't promise I'll know everything. As I said, this has just been bouncing aimlessly inside my skull. 🙈

Thanks again for your ask! 🤗

[starcrossedjedis]

Charlie Barnett for the sex+romance ask game! 💗, 👠, 🏩, 👮, 😳 annddd 💝. Enjoy! ^_^

I hope it's okay that I lump the questions about (negative) past realtionships together into one rant on Charlie's last relationship, as it is a big part of her character and how she thinks and acts.

👮 Has my muse ever had sex in public?

Charlie's not really someone who gets a kick out of the possibility of getting caught, BUT sometimes things happen and situations don't allow for a cab ride... Alas, it doesn't get much kinkier than the Hard Deck's pool table after hours and the parking lot.

🏩 What was my muse’s first time like?

Just your average first time, really - two college freshmen celebrating their shared venture into adulthood with clumsy, fumbly sex after a frat party. But everything was fine - everyone consented and they stayed friends until things naturally fizzled out after graduation.

💝 Does my muse like Valentine’s Day?

Charlie's not super excited about it (she's more of a christmas girlie), but that doesn't mean that she's immune to the magic of a sweet gift ☺️

💗 Has my muse ever been in love? 👠 What was my muse’s last serious relationship like? 😳 What was my muse’s worst romantic/sexual relationship?

(Under a cut, because it's kind of a prominent plot point)

Charlie has only been in love - like real, proper adult relationship in love - once and it was with the ex she had before Jake.

Her ex was a doctor in the hospital where she did her residency and - despite definitely knowing better - they started going out.

Things with them were pretty serious even though they kept it a secret in the hospital.

He was a good bit older than her and more experience, which might have been the reason that Charlie missed some red flags along the way.

In the beginning she tried telling herself that he was going a bit overboard trying to down play their relationship in the hospital, but after a while it became increasingly hard to ignore those moments where he would berate her over nothing in front of others or worse, go and take credit for things that she did at work. Then he'd either flat out try and gaslight her about it or try and make her believe it was all part of his act to avoid suspicions of favouritism.

Charlie generally avoids talking about her ex and how exactly things ended, but she was pretty messed up about it - so much so that she dropped her residency and moved back in with her dad and returned to her summer job as a bartender rather than face him again.

It's also why Charlie is so reluctant to give Jake a chance and why she then keeps playing down what's happening between them - she's so scared of missing another red flag just as she's finally starting to feel like herself again.

Things are further complicated by the fact that her well-meaning, but meddling in the wrong kinda business dad doesn't like the military in general and cocky pilots in particular. He was however strangely fond of "the successful surgeon who visited his daughter over christmas that one year" and even goes as far as to invite him back into their lives; having him pretty much turn up on their door step just as Jake and Charlie finally stop to face the reality and depth of their feelings.

[peachymilkandcream]

Umm, how about Levi gun fucks her 😳

Levi x Evelyn -> Point Blank

(A/N: I'll be fully real I've never written something with this type of prompt before so I interpreted it in my own way as best I could and I hope you like the result! ^^)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

==========================================

Levi was in utter hell, he had injured himself just enough to be bed ridden but not enough to be seriously hurt. Lying in bed all day doing nothing but read and try and occupy his thoughts with something was starting to get to him.

It also didn't help he wasn't well enough to hold Evelyn down to have sex, and there's no way that she would willingly volunteer either. She took care of him and his wounded leg but never offered to suck on or ride his throbbing erections. Although he couldn't expect much more from his ungrateful wife who still chose to be stubborn against his love and affection.

At the moment she was downstairs trying to find him another blanket and he had just finished yet another book. Desperate for something more stimulating he rummaged through his bedside table drawer. Part of him was hoping to find a drink since he couldn't trust if Evelyn gave him one that it wasn't poisoned or was over given to make him sleep.

He wasn't expecting his fingers to brush over cold steel though, in confusion he took out the thing, staring at his reflection in the small pistol. With all the more important things like Marley and getting Evelyn pregnant he had forgotten about something that provided not a lot of protection. The fact still stood that it didn't offer much protection, but it could be a threat, and an effective one. Evelyn was afraid of death, which was the only reason she bent the little she did to his will. The gears in his head started to turn as he heard her come up the stairs.

============================================

Evelyn had her hands full carrying everything she needed up the stairs, Levi was a whining bitch when he wasn't feel well, demanding only she take care of him and wanting her to wait on him hand and foot. Part of her wanted to punch him in the leg, then see if he's still smirking.

When she walked into the room Levi was sitting up against the headboard, just as she had left him. He insisted on remaining naked under the covers, thinking that his painfully obvious erections would entice her to take care of them.

As she came to the side of the bed she chose to ignore the tent in the sheets even now. "Here's your extra pillows, crochet blanket, your extra slippers, and this morning's paper." Once she situated them she stood back. "Anything else?"

That damned smirk appears on his face again. "How about you take care of this..." He glances down at his twitching erection.

"In your dreams." Her tone is harsh, matter-of-fact.

Levi's jaw twitches, what it always does when he's annoyed. She wasn't expecting the sickening click of the pistol pointed at her. "I can't pin you down and take what I want so you have a choice to hop on my dick or get a few holes in you."

"Levi this is crazy-! Put that thing away!"

He shrugs. "Could be, but since you're not going about this willingly like a good wife should I have to take drastic measures. Now I suggest you get your ass over here and ride me, right now."

Evelyn contemplates her options, she could just run out the door but if he called for another servant they'd just bring her in and lock her there anyway. And all that would do is piss him off, he could subject her to a lot more than her just riding him. She wasn't sure if it was worth it to be rebellious if he was clearly desperate enough to do something so stupid.

Finally she steadies herself and slides off her clothes, earning a soft smile from him. "So you can be a good girl with the proper motivation." He kept the barrel trained on her, even as she peeled away the covers and straddled him.

She dreaded taking him in, it always hurt since he never waited until she was wet enough. "Is there something I can use to make it go in easier...? Please?"

Levi pauses before reaching into his drawer and pulling out a small tube of lube, she almost forgot he had it since he rarely used it. Going in dry was his form of punishment whenever she acted out.

Slicking up his cock took barely a minute, making it twitch every time she touched it. As she positioned herself above the head it took a couple tries for it to slip in, slowly letting herself down until he was in her completely. She hated that she clenched around him, her body enjoying being full even if it was full of him.

He tapped her thigh with the barrel. 'Move."

She had to use his arms for stabilizers, trying to ignore how it made the barrel point more and more at her. Her hips roll up and down, sloppy and unsure at first but eventually finding a rhythm. This was the first time she rode him like this, so going as fast as he normal could was impossible. Rocking her hips on him until he's grunting and that shit-eating grin is plastered all over his face.

The lube was smeared on this thighs by now, long since being replaced with her own arousal and she bounced up and down faster and faster. All she was focused on was making him cum as fast as possible so all of this could be over with. It didn't help that it felt good for her too. The feeling of being penetrated was pleasant, but he was so disgusting it often distracted her from actually finding release.

As he neared his climax his hips met hers, thrusting into her at a harder pace, eventually forcing her to stop all together and take it. Pounding away until he finally pushed her all the way down and came inside of her, it felt gross, it was gross. But nevertheless she took it until he was done, sliding off of him.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" He said, putting the gun away. "Go clean yourself up, I'll need you again in a few hours."

Evelyn crossed the distance from the bedroom to the on suite bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Sweaty, ragged, covered in filth.

She bent to turn on the bath, knowing it would cover up any sound as she picked up the birth control pill bottles hidden safely behind the toilet.

[jj-stay]

When your lips met mine

🎉✨ What’s up, amazing readers? It’s your girl [jj-stay] here, and I’m beyond excited to drop my latest fanfic masterpiece! Get ready for an enchanting blend of fluff and romance, featuring our beloved Stray Kids members sharing those magical first-kiss moments with you, the reader. This one’s perfect for everyone 16 and older.

🔖 Word Count: 975 (Settle in for a dreamy read!) 🛠 Request Status: Just a creation from my heart! 💕 Pairing: SKZ x Reader (Prepare for all the swoons!) 💖 Genre: Fluff, Romantic (With a sprinkle of magic) ⚠️ Trigger Warning: First kiss (Prepare for major butterflies!) 📜 Disclaimer: Pure fiction, folks. Any resemblance to real-life events is purely coincidental.

Bang Chan:

When: Movie night vibes at their place. 🍿 Where: Their cozy apartment. 🛋️ How: In the midst of a snuggle fest on the couch, watching their favorite film, the moment strikes. They both lean in for a sweet, gentle kiss, and bam—fireworks. 🎆 Reaction: Chan is momentarily stunned but then melts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around his S/O tightly. He pulls back with a smile that could light up the entire universe. 😍

Lee Know (Minho):

When: Late-night beach stroll. 🌙 Where: Romantic AF beach setting. 🌊 How: With the moonlight casting magic on the water, Lee Know takes their hand, pulls them closer, and just goes for it—a kiss that makes the ocean jealous. 💦 Reaction: His eyes widen as an electric spark runs through him. Minho's cheeks flush, but he quickly dives back in, making it a kiss to remember. 😳

Changbin:

When: Candlelit rooftop dinner. 🕯️ Where: Their private rooftop. 🌌 How: Changbin sets up a dreamy picnic under the stars. As the night gets more intimate, he takes a leap of faith, leaning in for a tender, unforgettable kiss. 💏 Reaction: Initially nervous, Changbin feels a wave of warmth and comfort. He savors the kiss, holding his S/O close, wanting to freeze this perfect moment in time. 🥰

Hyunjin:

When: Ferris wheel magic at an amusement park. 🎡 Where: Amusement park. 🎢 How: At the peak of the Ferris wheel ride, Hyunjin, with his heart racing, leans in for a thrilling kiss, the wind adding a touch of drama to the moment. 🌬️ Reaction: Hyunjin is surprised by his own boldness, but the excitement eclipses any doubts. He smiles against their lips, feeling a rush of pure, unfiltered joy. 😆

Han:

When: Late-night drive through the city. 🚗 Where: Rooftop parking lot with killer views. 🌃 How: Parked under the stars, Han gazes deeply into his S/O’s eyes, then leans in for a kiss that’s all passion and longing, letting the moment ignite. 🌟 Reaction: A bit anxious, Han soon loses himself in the undeniable chemistry. He holds his S/O's face gently, deepening the kiss and pouring his heart into it. 💘

Felix:

When: Sunny day picnic in the park. ☀️ Where: A scenic park spot. 🌳 How: In the middle of a playful conversation on a cozy blanket, Felix feels his heart race. He leans in, capturing their lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. 🍓 Reaction: Felix is shy at first, his cheeks a soft pink, but he quickly feels a burst of happiness. He smiles against their lips, savoring every second of their affection. 😊

Seungmin:

When: Romantic picnic in a flower field. 🌸 Where: A blooming flower field. 🌼 How: With the sun setting and everything bathed in a warm glow, Seungmin pulls his S/O into a tight embrace, brushing their lips together for the first time. 🌅 Reaction: Seungmin is surprised by the rush of emotions, but as their lips meet, everything feels perfect. He closes his eyes, melting into the kiss, his heart singing with love. 🎶

I.N (Jeongin):

When: Chilly winter evening stroll. ❄️ Where: Snowy park under the streetlights. 🌨️ How: Pausing in the glow of a streetlamp, Jeongin takes a deep breath, feeling the cool air, and leans in for a sweet, tender kiss amidst the winter wonderland. 🌟 Reaction: Jeongin feels a mix of excitement and nervousness, his heart fluttering as their lips meet. He smiles shyly, feeling warmth spread through him, pulling his S/O closer to cherish the moment. 💖

@kflixnet

@obsessedw-stars

@smut-lover

[magnificent-winged-beast]

Do you believe J2 is romantically involved?

https://at.tumblr.com/magnificent-winged-beast/jensen-ackles-2020-inside-of-you-podcast-w/3ff5rrnhev0z

No, not at all.

Personally I think they are great friends, they kind of grow up together in Supernatural. Well, Jensen did learn to become an adult and got bigger and bulkier till The Boys. The Jarod just grow up taller and went deep in to the forever manchlid persona.

Anyways, J2 it's not my ship. From whatever angle I look at it, I can't see it. Not only because of their characters being brothers and all. It's just not there for me.

From that mentioned link. I can explain that I do believe everyone has the right to ship whomever, and in the spirit of being cool and make peace and love (like Misha and Jackles when in Rome 😉) between the SPN factions. I mentioned that what I thought Jackles was implying, was him giving his blessing to all the ships.

When I started to watch Supernatural from the beginning back in 2005, I wasn't aware about the concept of Shiping.

I was undoubtedly attracted to Dean nearly at the middle of the first season. Jackles made Dean so real and important for me on that show, that from then I was kind of sad Supernatural wasn't about just him, later on, about him and Castiel.

From there, since season 2 to middle 3 it was me just tuning in to watch Dean killing everything with his tall brother dude. Like I said, I wasn't aware of Shiping, and because of my cultural upbringing I thought gay was wrong and a problem. (Aka living in a South American country where machismo is law, and being homofobic is instructed to children).

I got then a brief understanding and crash course about ships because of Sherlock, and here in tumblr. Yes, I'm a Johnlock refugge, but even then I wasn't THAT convinced about those two. Albeit the fan art, and of course Fanfiction get my attention and further understanding and acceptance about my bad education. I started mending fences about my previous misunderstanding of queerness.

While I was on a mental journey about life and everything, hiding in the now questionable Sherlock y stopped watching Supernatural till it was on season 7.

And then one day... 🎶 One magic day they crossed my screen.... 🎶 😂

I kinda stumbled upon Supernatural again and saw new characters and plot. I get on track again watching the thing from the beginning till season 4. My life changed forever 📺😑.

Not only I discovered my new religion and Overlord, I get to really really experience that Shiping thing. And it was beautiful.... 🥺😳

Dude! Seriously. I was an ignorant, indoctrinated to be just binary or die in shame person. But there was THEM on screen, making me question everything I learned about love ONLY by opposite genders. And discover my own identification, as Mishasexual of course.

At first I thought something was wrong with me and my perception since all the tumblr discovering and "influence". -The gays change me, I thought. I binged watched seasons from 4 to 9 to realize THIS IS REAL!

I then joined the circus and start to paint my face, wear a big red nose, use big shoes and ride a ridiculously small bicycle every Thursday at 8pm central.

It was shocking, how scene after scene, from already aired episodes to the new ones. Once Dean and Cas where together on my screen. I had a vivid experience about the concept of Shiping.

Then I went deep in this hell of a fandom =>affectionately<= 🙄. Watching every Con and panel of Misha.... aaaaand discovered Cockles.

I was doomed.

My life went wham! I questioned everything, from my initial attitude about RLS. That at one point considered as disrespectful and silly because the ones in vogue back then I couldn't understand or believe their very existence.

Once you watched 5 heavy Destiel episodes, and 3 Jibcon Cockles Panels, all the internal homophobia or general confusion about genders changes to rainbows and pink puppies that smell like candy and sound like Misha and Jackles laughing.

Well, I took a deep dive in to memory lane here. Just because a simple J2 Shiping ask. Sorry, but not sorry. I love to spread the Cockles gospel and give the good news about the magical duo that saved me from ignorance, propelled me into the land of trash and rainbows. That occupies 70% of my memory's phone between photos of Misha and them together. Usually of Jackles ogling Mish while having a secret boner.

See? A totally random gif of them on my phone.

They give me all the emotions. Every feels at once.

Chaito.

[waru-chan8]

Roberto: (in relationship with Rosa’s challenge) to the box for her challenge and the next one to face theirs is Jorge Lorenzo. We are going to call him champion because he is MotoGP’s World Champion and he’s in first position in the ranking. He put it completely upside down (Waru’s comment: not really after episode 1 he was 3rd and after episode 2 he moved in first). Riding bikes is something that he does very well, but today he is facing a GP challenge, but Disco GP. How is he dealing with the flow? Um? Um?

Noe: we are going to try and bring your world (bike noises) into the dance. You are going to dance as

Jorge: My world how?

Noe: you will have to dance as if you are riding a bike?

Jorge: bikes? Yes? Where is the bike?

Noe: 1, 2, as if you are running. 3. More

Jorge: like this?

Noe: 4. More, 5

Jorge: The worst that they could do to me

Noe: Stretch (but in the sense of stretching a limb or something related)

Jorge: Dancing is... making a mountain. I have little flexibility in here 😳 I never danced apart from... bachata

Noe: 1, 2, 3, cha. Cha

Jorge: and then reggaeton that everyone has their own style at the night clubs, so We are a bit rigid in this part I’m stressed because everything she puts new. Shit. Stress my head (I think the most correct expression would be make my head explode)

Noe: yeah, yeah. Arrow. Dot. Square

Jorge: Yes

Noe: Arrow, dot, square. Come on. 1

Jorge: Shit

Noe: 1 and 2 and 1

Jorge: Coordination on the bike. Dancing for me is new and I’m not coordinated with my body yet

Noe: Tip ((?) not sure because is dance related)

Jorge: Pam, Pam,

Noe: put your hands on your pockets because it looks like you are dancing a Sardana (traditional dance in Catalonia)

Jorge: it’s true

Noe: tip, heal (both referring to the feet)

Jorge: 1, 2

Noe: and close. The other

Jorge: buff If I work a miracle and out of the blue I start to improve quickly I might surprise, but now I really doubt it

Roberto: Good night Noe.

Noe: Good night

Roberto: Welcome back to ‘EL Desafío’. You are like in your house in hear.

Noe: like in my house

Roberto: Glad. Do we have a true dancer in front of us or not?

Noe: We have a true hard worker in front of us

Roberto: he trained (? I’m not sure as I can’t really hear it)

Noe: hard-worker and

Jorge: Thank you very much

Noe: ... and the truth he work hard and a lot the day we had. He is out of his comfort zone absolutely. Really like all of them in the show but... but... but there’s have been a very big change since the first day until the last ones. And I’m very happy/proud of his work. I want him to enjoy it

Roberto: You are saying, of course, out of is comfort zone. You did dance as a kid?

Jorge: I was a clonw-ish (but in the sense of acting goofy and he uses the word for kids acting goofy) as a kid . I did videos with my sister, home camera and so  (home made videos is the English true term) and then I quite. And now, my best is at the disco/night clubs, when I go out at night the reggaeton at my own style

Roberto: Oh, you dance reggaeton?

Jorge: with one or more mojitos, with my own style

Roberto: you also become brave (whatever expression the English have to mean lose the inhibition), no? It’s beautiful because what doesn’t managed to accomplish ‘El Desafío’, you put back on the riders leathers (Waru’s comment: yes I translated that correctly, that are pretending those are the leathers Jorge would use on a race weekend.)

Jorge: I don’t see it very rider-like. More like kart-like, Mario bros

Someone: Mario bros

Roberto: Super Mario

Jorge: More like Fernando Alonso more than a rider

Roberto:that’s correct

Mariló: but it suit you

Roberto: We are going to see a different Jorge Lorenzo. Completely

Jorge: The nerves have me wear out. I’m pretty active. This morning I was pretty active, jumping and so, and I hope to enjoy it to the maximum and

Roberto: I don’t want to put you in more tension. I won’t make you talk more because I know you like to focus/concentrate, but I going to real to you and to the people at home that there’ll be a small cameo that will bring memories to him. I don’t know if happy, but memories for sure.

Jorge: assholes

Roberto: I’m telling you

Jorge: I will know? (not sure because is mumbled)

Roberto: well is okay. Go and prepare if you want. Noe, good luck.

Noe: good luck

Roberto: Jorge Lorenzo with the team of dancers go and get prepared. And for those at home, I remind you, we have the ‘El Desafío en casa’ (the Challenge at home), I encourage you to record yourself dancing... (basically they encourage views to do their own challenge and post on social media)

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh, Wayne - this was GLORIOUS!!! This is the first time I’ve laughed today, and I needed it so bad! Starting with “Seth Rogen” I get it - looks may fade, but sarcasm? That shit is forever! Intelligence and personality means far more than a pretty face.

And I swear you were reading my mind in this! “Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him.” Yep, this is so me - have tried to deny love at first sight, but Han Solo and Dean Winchester - I was a goner at first sight! And “Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?” Again?!?! Get. Out. Of. My. Head - It’s scary in here! (But then again, I have more issues than a magazine stand - but then again, so do the real and fictional men I love, sooo…but I digress)

You made me laugh so hard with the collision and Dean’s reactions: ““Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint…” “We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…” “His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.” BWAHAHAHA!!!! All three dogs were passed out, so all three got treats thanks to your glorious sense of humor! (Quinn says thanks again, BTW)

“It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly,”. Damn right it is! (Or maybe left). “Or that… you could do that…”. Yes, yes he could - all damn day…and night…and…oh, wait, where was I? And “Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.” AWWWW!!! I love bashful, silly Dean. But I love her response even more: “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?” Girl, I would have stood up and clapped, because that is a total boss move, but I’d drop my phone! In a million years I’d never be brave enough to do that, or “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.” QUEEN! She needs to be worshipped for her quick wit and bountiful blessings she is about to receive!

And then I’m giggling again at “Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” and “grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning.” Then right back to sweetness with “he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.” That was just so perfect!

And that thorough fucking? “Wow” indeed! How could you not be after something like that with someone like him? But him asking if she was lonely, then straight to moving into his room - so damn sweet!

And the sass with the whole scene with Sam’s return and knocking him out of bed? Bwahahaha!!! “Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have.” HELL YEAH!! Yeah, book that room, Sammy - right after your therapy session! This was SO DAMN GOOD! I needed this silliness and sweetness today more than you know. Thank you so much for this wonderful, hysterical, hot ride!! Happy Unattached Drifter Christmas to you ❤️

Are you aiming for a best reader award? What’s happening? 😳 Also, I literally love you to death for this 😘❤️ Here’s your award. You may take the boy and the prize:

And yes, thank you! Humor and personality is so important! I don’t wanna be bored to death for the rest of my life 😂 And who wouldn’t love this adorable idiot?

Besides, who’d want a perfect person? The pressure! Like, I don’t trust those motherfuckers. Nuh-uh, if you don’t have obvious flaws, you’re definitely a psycho and I don’t wanna be dismembered and buried in your yard 😒

Hahaha and well, that thorough fucking came from my prompt in the initial request (“soft love making”). You know me well enough by now to know I just run with that shit 😂🖤

And yeah, I guess Sam thought they were like Ross and Rachel, buy really they turned out to be Monica and Chandler 🤣

So happy I made your day a bit better with a few laughs, hun! And thank you for this amazing ask! Love you 🥰❤️😘

[i-am-hoo-iyam]

‘Yn! Look! All the kids got me and you and moon valentines!” All the kids ruched in with valentines. “Golly! So many! One at a time please”.

The first kid in line came up. “Here yn I got you dis!” It was a card with a lady in a bikini blowing a kiss. The inside said: have a sexy Valentine’s Day, you sexy wh😳re you. Yn turned to sun. “Sun I have a great activity idea for today!” “Cool! What’s that?” “Why don’t weeeee teach the younger kids to read!” Yn showed the card to sun. Sun was now red instead of yellow. “Yes thets a great wonderful amazing awesome fantastic incredible super idea that’s EXACTLY what we should do! Teach the kids to read the cards before they give them!”

“Here sun I got you a gift and moon a gift! My brother drew the smiley face inside!”

“That’s an… interesting face!” “He says their name is sinep!” “Yessssssss very interesting”. “Sunny why are you making that face?” Sun put the card down. “Okkkkk next!”

A baby toddled up and handed sun his gooey pacifier. “Oh my gosh I love it thanks so much!” Sun hugged the kid.

“Here’s a card for Andy!” Andy read it. “Happy valentines day to you… nobody likes you… you look like an animal go back to the zoo…” “you should know my father is a zookeeper and it is a fine profession! He can tame a frothing beast in five seconds and turn it into a complacent animal”.

The next kid came and threw up on sun. “I got you chocolates but I ate them by accident but then I guess I gave them back”. Yn helped sun clean up. “Thanks sunshine! Why don’t you go with moon! He can give you a medicine that will help your tummy feel better and then he can get you all nice and cozy to rest”. Moon led the kid away.

The next kid had a huge bouquet of roses and a real diamond. “My mom says it’s too keep letting me come here for free while she shops and rides in her limo”. Sun set them aside. “That’s really really nice of her! Has she let you ride in the limo before?” “Not till I’m older”. “That makes sense”.

The next couple kids got sun a teddy bear. The kid after that had a half empty Chica fizzy faz for yn and half a stick of gum for Andy. Another kid gave moon some glow in th e dark finger paint. A kid literally stopped down and picked up a hair from the ground and gave it to sun. A really little kid gave sun a candle that said ‘sticky c🫣m scent sure yo make you horny”. “My mom wowks In a sex showp! She doesn’t let me go in thow…”. This kid often came in the daycare smelling of second hand cigarette smoke. ( like he didn’t smoke but his mom did).

The best gift was the teddy bear and a jumbo box of chocolates, the worst was not the card or the candle but a kid brought his dead goldfish in. “I don’t want it anymore you can have it”. The most expensive was the diamond and another kid brought in a purebred puppy that was worth a lot of money except this one was blind and the runt. They gave it to an animal shelter. The cheapest one was the hair. The biggest was when this kids aunt did wheelies and donuts in the parking lot with her monster truck as a show for the kids. She almost crushed a junk car she towed there for fun but that’s where fazbear drew the line and made her bring both cars back home. The smallest one was this ‘interesting looking grain of sand’ this kid found on the beach.

[jayden-killer]

Mental health matters. So do you.

Paring: Kakyoin Noriaki × GN! Reader

Summary: after exhausting months, in which you studied hard for your exams, your boyfriend, Kakyoin, helps you realx in anticipation of Christmas holidays!!

Genre: small angst to comfort💓, stress dealing, hints to anxiety, but only if you spot them ig(?).

A/N: oof, maybe this is some kind of comfort story I wrote for me, since I've been really struggling with exams in these past few months, but I also want you, fellas, to enjoy it and maybe find comfort too!!~ I do also want to apologise for my absence: uni has been a crazy ride so far.😳

~

I sighed.

Maybe I should take a break. Or keep going. Man, I really want to finish this paragraph, but it's so hard try to learn it...

Christmas holidays approached day by day and I had a goal to reach: prepare my future exams. Unfortunately for me, stress was kicking in, and it was definitely not helping. I couldn't focus, this was a really bad. I had to finish.

Just this paragraph. Then, I can finally relax... no, I need to keep going. Just a bit more. No distractions.

With another sigh leaving my mouth, I put my hand on my cheek and kept reading over and over, taking notes every new and then. My eyes felt heavy, I just couldn't focus anymore and it was stressing myself!

–UGHHHHH!–

I kicked the desk, making frustrating nosies.

–I CAN'T FOCUS! DAMN ME, I WONT EVER FINISH THIS ESSAY!–

The next thing I did was picking the nearest pillow on my bed and screaming in it, trying to suffocate my screams.

–(Y/N)? Is everything alright in there?–

Oh god. Not him. And not now!

–It's okay, Kakyoin. I'm totally fine–

Wrong. I was a bad partner lying to my boyfriend, but I didn't want him to be involved in my problems. After all, it's not that bad, huh?

–Well, could you please open the door, so I can bring you your tea cup?– he kindly said, on the other side of door. I could sense his smiling, that kind of smile who can erase everything bad. Kakyoin made his appearance in my life in one of those... hard moments. You know, those kind of moments you don't expect to meet new people?

Exactly. His polite behavior and kind presence were the first traits I noticed. A thing led to another: date after date, I finally had the courage to confess. I couldn't believe myself: he feels the same way! And now we're here. Speaking of that...

–You can come now– I took my tea cup from his hands, giving him a polite smile and indulging him to go back to what he was doing. He crossed an eyebrow.

–Can't I come him?–

–Kakyoin, my room is really a mess, besides I have to go back to my essay. It won't finish itself– I muttered, but audible to him, now staring to my cup.

–(Y/N), I know this essay is really important to you, but a break is necessary. You can go back studying after I'll help you tidy your room, give it some fresh air..–

–I said I can handle it. You can go back.–

–You don’t, I can tense your stress meters far...–

–Just shut up for a fucking second, your pressing is far annoying! Don’t you understand the importance of my work?!–

A pause followed, and the silence took its place in our house. I cringed at my own wrods, a hand covering my mouth. I had no courage looking in his eyes, because i knew i fucked up. Real bad. I didn't have any intentions to snapping at him. He didn't do anything. He was just.. trying to help me.

-I...I need to finish it. Or I won’t...–

–Won’t what? – Kakyoin replied, dead serious on his face.

Another pause followed. 

–(Y/N), believe me when I say that you really worked hard, and I'm so proud of you you doing that. You've come so far.But I need to remind you Christmas is coming. And I don’t want to see youself closed in a room, reading over and over a book, and scrabbling... whatever you’re wroking on!– he calmily said, yet severe. 

I know it is true. I’ve been barely going out and enjoyed the sun’s warmth on my skin, because I was so focused on working, working, working... it only mattered that. I must admit, he was right.

What was the last time I had a social interaction?

–I’m guessing you really are the Horse’s Mouth, huh?–

He briefly chuckled at my own joke, and opened his arms for a hug, which i kindly accepted. 

-I’m sorry for snapping that way to you, Kakyoin. I shouldn’t have do that, you were only helping me... Stress is going to be the death of me, one day...–

–I’m glad you understood that, (Y/N), so i acceot your apologies. I'm not mad at you, okay?–he answered, petting my hair and giving a short kiss on my forehead. –Now, why don’t you show me what you’ve been wroking on? With my help, we’ll finish sooner than excepted, then..–He smiled at me, raising both eyebrows-cuddle and watch the Polar Express?–

That little shit. He knew how to motivate me by the simplest things!

–Sounds fair. You know me too well!–

He laughed and sitted on my chair, patting his lap. –C’mon, i’ll gladly help you.–

I realized that I, indeed, was the luckiest person on this earth.

What would i have done without you, Kakyoin?

I would be lost.