#but I can take it because k agree with all the mean things

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.

Part 1

You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city. 

You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him. 

It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.

Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.

Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.

His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?

You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun. 

“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?” 

He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that. 

You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.

You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.

He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices. 

This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly. 

He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.

You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.

So you meet him again. 

And again… And again. 

You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.

“I guess you could put it like that.”

He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him. 

He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby. 

The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing. 

“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”

“What’s ‘twerking’?”

It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you. 

It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes. 

Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.

A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.

You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe. 

And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.

You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.

You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.

König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 

They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.

You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.

Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.

He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over. 

König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his. 

Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men. 

You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore. 

It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.

Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.

You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

…

"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.

"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.

"A… A what?"

She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.

When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.

Christ have mercy…

"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"

You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her. 

Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.

Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.

"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.

"Did you sleep with him…?"

"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."

Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.

"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"

"Convent," you correct.

"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."

“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”

“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”

"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"

"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."

You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.

"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.

"What?"

Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.

"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.

"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"

"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."

"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."

"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”

You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.

“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”

“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.

“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”

“Yes, but–”

“Mmh. Deep voice?”

“Umm… It’s memorable?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.

You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table. 

You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.

Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are. 

"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"

The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.

"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"

"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."

"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.

Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...

"Yours now, is he?"

"No, that was… It just slipped."

"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"

"What?! No."

"You have," she insists with a widening smile.

"No. No, I–"

"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"

You feel your lips snap into a thin line.

Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles? 

If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good. 

"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?" 

Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.

"What does that have to do with anything…?" 

"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.

You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.

The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared. 

This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.

You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.

Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.

You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends. 

There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.

Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.

Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.

But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.

You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.

…

The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary. 

König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.

Because…

One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours. 

It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.

You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”

“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again. 

Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.

The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.

I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.

Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.

He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.

You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.

“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.

“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”

“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.

He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.

“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.

“What if I don’t want some other girl?” 

His voice is so wickedly gentle too.

You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now. 

“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…

“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”

It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.

“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.

“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?” 

You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…

“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.

“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…

“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.

“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.

“Are you… Are you leaving then?”

“Soon.”

Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.

You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.

This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts. 

“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.

“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”

“That would be nice.”

“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”

“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again. 

“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”

You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.

“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…

You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.

“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister. 

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x nun!reader #forbidden love #könig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig x you

[batterygarden]

can you help me, sensei?

contents: alpha! satoru gojo x omega! gn & afab reader. taboo dynamics (you used to be jujutsu tech student, he was/is a mentor figure), age gap, a/b/o, p in v sex with knotting and heat, manhandling (he’s strong), mult orgasms, gojo is bigger than u, barely there exhibitionism bc his house keepers are home, pet names, 1.8 k words

a/n: my contribution for @lorelune ‘s spring fever collab! ^_^ thanks for hosting <3 <3 <3

18+, minors dni please

Satoru’s sitting in his home office answering emails when you knock on his door, flooding the room with a certain tell-tale sugary fragrance the moment you step inside. Satoru sighs. You’ve only been staying with him two short days. This is what he gets for helping an ex-student in need, ignoring Nanami’s warnings about ‘sharing a space with an omega’.

“Hey bunny,” Satoru speaks slowly, eventually halting his typing when he looks up at you. “Something wrong?” (He knows what’s wrong. He knows that you know he knows. He’s buying himself time to reckon with it.)

“Uhm yes actually—” he feels a prick of guilt for asking. You’ll struggle to say it. “---I, uh, made a mistake.”

You inch your way closer, skittish but needy. Like he’s a stranger with food in his palms. Maybe that’s a generous comparison—Gojo can’t possibly come off that inviting. Maybe it’s as if he’s some murderous beast sleeping in a field of berries, and you’re starving. He needs to work on his analogies.

He scoots his chair away from his desk when you make your way around it, turning to face you with spread legs, inviting you in because he can’t help but want to. Your smell is so strong his mouth is watering.

“You’re in heat,” he says matter-of-factly. You flinch from your halted distance of a yard away.

“I need help.”

“Thought you were on suppressants.”

“I am! I mean—I thought I was! I’m starting to—ngh,” He watches you rub your thighs together. “---think they were expired or something.”

“‘s that so…” Gojo thumbs at the edge of his blindfold, prolonging the inevitable. This is a bother.

You nod frantically, your expression pained. Desperate and pleading like maybe you really are starving.

Gojo is mad, somewhere. He should be, at least. Any logic is forgotten with the clean air he breathed before your dramatic entrance, though.

This is Satoru Gojo’s first time feeling the true pull of his instincts. They rid him of his renowned self control—a lifetime of careful barriers and walls and techniques, wiped away by his cock and your fucking pheromones. It should be laughable.

But the instincts rob him of humor, too.

“Does it hurt?” His voice is soft without trying—he’s genuinely concerned. You’re helpless, his insides are screaming—he needs to do something.

Your eyes turn glassy when you nod, and Satoru has to grapple with the way it feels like the world will end if they spill over. Or worse, maybe he’d get even hornier.

He shushes you, pulling you into his lap carefully, like your limbs are held together with school glue, gently tugging till you straddle him.

“You poor thing. So needy huh?”

Your answering pout makes his cock twitch.

“Need an alpha to fill you up?” He says it so soft, it’s like a lulluby.

He doesn’t expect your quiet temperament to reply, but you do. “Yes, please, alpha—sensei, I really need it.”

That’s all he can take before he’s rubbing his face into your neck, inhaling and licking at the sweetness there before he bites, leaving a permanent mark, relishing in your whines while a warm hand slots between your legs.

And just like that, you’re being mated with Satoru Gojo. A teacher from school that taught the other students in your grade while you were busy healing with shoko. The strongest man alive, your sponsor who agreed to house you briefly between moves, an enigma more than a man (and one you don’t even truly know, at that). Just sitting on his lap like this is far more intimate than the two of you have ever come infinitesimally close to being—exchanging small talk and a few mentor-related words of advice was the prior extent of the relationship. There were pet names, sure—but you’ve come to find those were on par for Gojo Sensei’s personality.

Now he’s got teeth in the skin of your throat while his fingers trace right through the center of you, only a thin layer of shorts in the way. You buck automatically, openly desperate, whining when that isn’t enough.

“you poor baby—“ sensei hums, his lips against your pulse. His tone is patronizing, but it soothes you regardless. “It’ll be okay. Gonna make you feel better.”

He speaks against your jaw now, dotting kisses wherever he moves while the sorry excuse for shorts you wear are pulled to the side, your panties with them, so he can really trace you.

Though they aren’t what you truly need, Gojo’s big fingers sate your ache in a way you couldn’t yourself—your body seems to mellow at the touch of an alpha, like it knows you’ll be taken care of now that he’s here.

Instincts less frantic, your sighed please alpha comes slow and heavy as he pushes two fingers inside of you, almost testingly. It’s slow—bordering agonizing—but you wouldn’t put it past gojo sensei to mess with you, even at a time like this.

Your slick floods his fingers at that small action, a whine and a buck of your hips accompanying, and satoru lets out an amused sigh.

You’re preparing to beg for him, plead to stop the teasing, but then… you’re on his cock before you can take another breath.

The relief is unparalleled. One minute he was dipping fingers into your entrance, slow and deceptively gentle before the next he was spreading your juices over his freed cock, pulling you onto him like he’d done it a million times. You suppose the familiarity is from those very instincts that brought you here—your chest practically sings now that they’re sated.

And so do you—you can’t control the cry you let out when he finally stretches you, feeling every ridge and vein of his heavy cock deep inside your tummy just where you’ve been needing him.

“That’s it, little lovie. You’re okay—hah!”

You’ve never heard sensei gasp the way he does when you roll your hips over his. It’s a strained, weak sound—the kind you’ve never known alphas to make.

He digs wide hands into the squish of your waist. “You’re tight.” His voice speaks directly into your ear as he tucks you into his chest then, scooting back into his trusty (thankfully armless) rolling chair so he can plant his feet and sink you down even closer. He makes light work of guiding your hips, the strength of the strongest shining through as he manhandles you up and down his length like you’re a doll.

And you feel like you’ve got the autonomy of one in his hands—his cock inside your tummy seems to hollow out your thoughts while your legs turn weak beneath you. Your arms remain to cling though, wrapping tight around sensei’s shoulders through your first release on his cock. The warm waves of it shock your system, and you cry out for your alpha when it hits you before he captures your lips in his.

Kissing satoru gojo is different from all your past experiences kissing. This one is so gooey and sweet it’s gross—the spearmint taste of his mouth reminding you just who it is you’re mating with. You flash back to Gojo dropping by to bug your sensei during your apprenticeship—dwelling on the way he’d talk to you like some silly kid. He’d always invade your personal space to tease you for no reason but to see you flustered, not that he needed to—you’d fluster easy just from his handsome alpha proximity, the minty smell of his breath.

It’s gross that such a mature mentor figure’s got you clamping hard on his cock now, tongue deep in your mouth to dull the sound of your whines.

But the disgusting nature of it all has you cumming in buckets—squelching on your sensei’s girth with every pump he guides you through.

You’re barely collecting your senses and drifting back to earth with Satoru pulls you off him, chuckling at the delayed clinging you react with. Of course you’re not strong enough to hold your body to his when he’s rearranging you—as much as you try—you have no choice but to get stripped and molded over Gojo’s fancy mahogany desk how he wants.

You’re still disoriented when he enters you again from behind, shoving himself deep deep deep till you’re so full you feel like choking from the stuffed feeling. It’s almost overstimulating when you just came so intensely, but the feel of your alpha splitting you still pleases your inner omega. More than that, you’re delighted.

“A-ahh! A-alpha—“

You can barely get out a word through his heavy thrusting, merciless and rhythmic.

“What is it, sweetheart? ‘S it feel good?”

Gojo digs thumbs beneath your shirt while he speaks, his anchoring grip around your sides surely leaving bruises. Not that you even notice how tight it’s become—all you have the sense for is his cock.

“Yes alpha! Th-thank you!,”

Gojo fucks you through orgasm after orgasm like that, till every pound against your flesh is wet and sticky.

It’s loud too, and, if you were in your right mind, you might worry about the fact that Gojo’s house keepers haven’t even left for the night yet.

You’ve lost track of your orgasms by the time sensei’s pace begins to show, his massive knot catching in your tight folds till he’s stuck deep inside you, while rope after rope of warm cum pumps you full. You finally feel that fever of yours beginning to fade once you’re flooded like that, coming out of your craze only to be met with exhaustion.

Of course you aren’t really done, sensei’s still connected to you with his knot, you can feel its delicious thickness where your body craved it most when you move your hips to go limp on sensei’s desk. You can feel the flood of his hot cum still streaming into you.

Satoru is panting for the first time in your memory, rubbing the soft skin of your hips while he recuperates before murmuring your name.

Then, “still breathin’, bunny?”

You make a little noise, nodding your head with immense effort, letting your eyes droop.

Only to open again when satoru lifts you with an arm beneath your chest, pulling you back till you’re both seated in his office chair. This way you’re still connected with you on his lap, cum still spurting into your womb.

He fishes your shorts from the ground, then, only to mop up your mess on his table, though truthfully most of it was still on each of your thighs.

At least with his table cleared he can move his desktop closer and finish those mission reports he had left—the solo ones he couldn’t pawn off.

You’re in a half conscious state around Gojo’s cock, breathing somewhat evened out with closed eyes, so gojo leans you carefully against his chest, with an arm on either side so he can type. Sure, the stuff on his computer was technically confidential, but you likely wouldn’t be alert for a while. And even if you were, did the whole classified document rule even apply to you anymore? It’s not like anyone could ask him to keep a secret from you, not now—not when you’re mated.

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo fic #gojo satoru smut #tw.omegaverse #tw.taboo dynamics #tw.age gap #🐞 writes

[satoruwiki]

Aah!! As the strange anon who requested Naoya. I gotta say I totally agree with these headcanons! You got him perfect lol basically a d**k..unless your super hot, don't speak and magically anticipate exactly what he wants when he wants it...in which case he's slightly less of a d**k. Ooh please do gojo headcanons now I'm addicted haha

lmfao strange anon 😭😭 but fr you’re right tho, naoya would usually be the type to say “you look prettier with your mouth shut, keep it that way”.

♡.°₊Satoru is the type of man to…ˎˊ˗

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; i love my cutie patootie boo boo bear pookie blue eyed king gojo >.<!!

n/a: i love this man sm, I already kinda did hcs of him before, but they were mostly nsfw, so i really scratched my head to not repeat them as best as i could.

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have gifting as his love language. Aside from being extra clingy, he’s the type to gift you stuff at least twice a week. They’re mostly things that reminds him of you or that he thinks you’d like (even though he might fail sometimes when it comes to treats, since he has a sweet tooth it may or may not be too sweet for you).

Satoru is the type of man to… act sassy/petty when jealous. Satoru isn’t the type to make a scene (at least not directed to you) or generally be ill-tempered/insecure. However, whenever he sees someone who looks at you in a different way than the others or tries to engage in a conversation with you that seems too intimate to be friendly, Satoru is the type of man to walk up to you and hug you from behind, giving you neck kisses. While you may think him being overly cuddly with you is normal due to his clingy character, Satoru is doing all that on purpose to let whoever is ‘bothering’ you that you already have someone else, with a damn smug smile plastered on his face (and maintaining direct eye contact with the stranger).

giggled and kicked my feet while writing this.

Satoru is the type of man to… try new things for you. So it is more than obvious that Satoru is old money rich. Like this dude was RICH RICH and spoiled rotten since he was child, not to mention that he’s a special grade sorcerer (he basically gets bank as a salary), therefore he’s accustomed to getting the finest things, either for you or for himself. What may seem expensive to you is probably normal for him. That doesn’t mean he’s some type of snob or is condescending about middle and working class. Satoru would be the type of be slightly skeptical when you take him to a ‘not so high-end’ restaurant, but since it was a “spot you knew”, it must be good, right? Satoru would be surprised to know that the food in the less wealthy places is sometimes even better than his common luxurious michelin-starred restaurant.

sounds like a cute trope imo

Satoru is the type of man to… taking pictures of you without you realizing it. It’s a hidden hobby of his, he thinks you look prettier when you’re distracted. Satoru has certain photo albums in his phone gallery that require a password, that is because you’d probably be embarrassed if you ever found out, but he really likes them, in the least creepy way.

Satoru is the type of man to… pretend not to know certain things as long as he has something to approach you with. Despite being good at pretty much everything, Satoru will lie and pretend to be terrible at something you are specifically passionate about so that you can teach him because he loves to see you get excited about sharing your hobbies and likes with others. His subtle way of knowing about you and collecting information he needs for when he wants to ask you out.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have public sex. Whether it’s at home or at some expensive restaurant’s washroom, nothing will stop him from pounding his cock balls deep inside you, though the thought of getting caught being freaky in public always gets his adrenaline rushing and his cock throbbing.

Satoru is the type of man to… have you modeling the lingerie he buys for you. He loves to see how excited you are to show him the little lingerie you bought with his card. But he loves it more when you thank him bouncing on his dick.

Satoru is the type of man to… have phone sex with you when he’s away. Due to his work, he has to sometimes to fly across Japan and this can take a few days before he comes back home. Satoru will call you late at night to ask how your day was then ask you to play with yourself, maybe even do a video call so he can see your pretty ‘o’ face.

Satoru is the type of man to… cover you in hickeys. He takes pride in letting everyone know he fucked you real good last night as well as to mark you as his. It also helps to keep other men from you, so he does this pretty often.

Satoru is the type of man to… fuck you in front of a mirror. Satoru likes to fuck you in doggy as well as to see your fucked out face, so he came up with the solution of placing a mirror in front of his bed so he can plunge his cock deep inside your walls just the way he likes and get to see you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he rearranges your guts. He also gets to look at himself and brag a little. (a little narcissistic from him if you ask me lmao)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk headcanons #headcanon #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x you #jjk hcs

[mostlysignssomeportents]

American education has all the downsides of standardization, none of the upsides

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

We moved to America in 2015, in time for my kid to start third grade. Now she's a year away from graduating high school (!) and I've had a front-row seat for the US K-12 system in a district rated as one of the best in the country. There were ups and downs, but high school has been a monster.

We're a decade and a half into the "common core" experiment in educational standardization. The majority of the country has now signed up to a standardized and rigid curriculum that treats overworked teachers as untrustworthy slackers who need to be disciplined by measuring their output through standard lessons and evaluations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Core

This system is rigid enough, but it gets even worse at the secondary level, especially when combined with the Advanced Placement (AP) courses, which adds another layer of inflexible benchmarks to the highest-stakes, most anxiety-provoking classes in the system:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Placement

It is a system singularly lacking in grace. Ironically, this unforgiving system was sold as a way of correcting the injustice at the heart of the US public education system, which funds schools based on local taxation. That means that rich neighborhoods have better funded schools. Rather than equalizing public educational funding, the standardizers promised to ensure the quality of instruction at the worst-funded schools by measuring the educational outcomes with standard tools.

But the joke's on the middle-class families who backed standardized instruction over standardized funding. Their own kids need slack as much as anyone's, and a system that promises to put the nation's kids through the same benchmarks on the same timetable is bad for everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/28/give-me-slack-2/

Undoing this is above my pay-grade. I've already got more causes to crusade on than I have time for. But there is a piece of tantalyzingly low-hanging fruit that is dangling right there, and even though I'm not gonna pick it, I can't get it out of my head, so I figured I'd write about it and hope I can lazyweb it into existence.

The thing is, there's a reason that standardization takes hold in so many domains. Agreeing on a common standard enables collaboration by many entities without any need for explicit agreements or coordination. The existence of the ANSI/SAE J563 standard automobile auxiliary power outlet (AKA "car cigarette lighter") didn't just allow many manufacturers to make replacement lighter plugs. The existence of a standardized receptacle delivering standardized voltage to standardized contacts let all kinds of gadgets be designed to fit in that socket.

Standards crystallize the space of all possible ways of solving a problem into a range of solutions. This inevitably has a downside, because the standardized range might not be optimal for all applications. Think of the EU's requirement for USB-C charger tips on all devices. There's a lot of reasons that manufacturers prefer different charger tips for different gadgets. Some of those reasons are bad (gouging you on replacement chargers), but some are good (unique form-factor, specific smart-charging needs). USB-C is a very flexible standard (indeed, it's so flexible that some people complain that it's not a standard at all!) but there are some applications where the optimal solution is outside its parameters.

And still, I think that the standardization on USB-C is a force for good. I have drawers full of gadgets that need proprietary charger tips, and other drawers full of chargers with proprietary tips, and damned if I can make half of them match up. We've continued our pandemic lockdown tradition of my wife cutting my hair in the back yard, and just tracking the three different charger tips for the three clippers she uses is an ongoing source of frustration. I'd happily trade slightly sub-optimal charging for just being able to plug any of those clippers into the same cable I charge my headphones, phone, tablet and laptop on.

The standardization of American education has produced all the downsides of standardization – a rigid, often suboptimal, one-size-fits-all system – without the benefits. With teachers across America teaching in lockstep, often from the same set texts (especially in the AP courses), there's a massive opportunity for a commons to go with the common core.

For example, the AP English and History classes my kid takes use standard texts that are often centuries old and hard to puzzle out. I watched my kid struggle with texts for learning about "persuasive rhetoric" like 17th century pamphlets that inspired anti-indigenous pogroms with fictional accounts of "Indian atrocities."

It's good for American schoolkids to learn about the use of these blood libels to excuse genocide, but these pamphlets are a slog. Even with glossaries in the textbooks, it's a slow, word-by-word matter to parse these out. I can't imagine anyone learning a single thing about how speech persuades people just by reading that text.

But there's nothing in the standardized curriculum that prevents teachers from adding more texts to the unit. We live in an unfortunate golden age for persuasive texts that inspire terrible deeds – for example, kids could also read core Pizzagate texts and connect the guy who shot up the pizza parlor to the racists who formed a 17th century lynchmob.

But teachers are incredibly time-constrained. For one thing, at least a third of the AP classroom time seems to be taken up with detailed instructions for writing stilted, stylized "essays" for the AP tests (these are terrible writing, but they're easy to grade in a standardized way).

That's where standardization could actually deliver some benefits. If just one teacher could produce some supplemental materials and accompanying curriculum, the existence of standards means that every other teacher could use it. What's more, any adaptations that teachers make to that unit to make them suited to their kids would also work for the other teachers in the USA. And because the instruction is so rigidly standardized, all of these materials could be keyed to metadata that precisely identified the units they belonged to.

The closest thing we have to this are "marketplaces" where teachers can sell each other their supplementary materials. As far as I can tell, the only people making real money from these marketplaces are the grifters who built them and convinced teachers to paywall the instructional materials that could otherwise form a commons.

Like I said, I've got a completely overfull plate, but if I found myself at loose ends, trying to find a project to devote the rest of my life to, I'd be pitching funders on building a national, open access portal to build an educational commons.

It may be a lot to expect teachers to master the intricacies of peer-based co-production tools like Git, but there's already a system like this that K-8 teachers across the country have mastered: Scratch. Scratch is a graphic programming environment for kids, and starting with 2019's Scratch 3.0, the primary way to access it is via an in-browser version that's hosted at scratch.mit.edu.

Scratch's online version is basically a kid- (and teacher-)friendly version of Github. Find a project you like, make a copy in your own workspace, and then mod it to suit your own needs. The system keeps track of the lineage of different projects and makes it easy for Scratch users to find, adapt, and share their own projects. The wild popularity of this system tells us that this model for a managed digital commons for an educational audience is eminently achievable.

So when students are being asked to study the rhythm of text by counting the numbers of words in the sentences of important speeches, they could supplement that very boring exercise by listening to and analyzing contemporary election speeches, or rap lyrics, or viral influencer videos. Different teachers could fork these units to swap in locally appropriate comparitors – and so could students!

Students could be given extra credit for identifying additional materials that slot into existing curricular projects – Tiktok videos, new chart-topping songs, passages from hot YA novels. These, too, could go into the commons.

This would enlist students in developing and thinking critically about their curriculum, whereas today, these activities are often off-limits to students. For example, my kid's math teachers don't hand back their quizzes after they're graded. The teachers only have one set of quizzes per unit, and letting the kids hold onto them would leak an answer-key for the next batch of test-takers.

I can't imagine learning math this way. "You got three questions wrong but I won't let you see them" is no way to help a student focus on the right areas to improve their understanding.

But there's no reason that math teachers in a commons built around the (unfortunately) rigid procession of concepts and testing couldn't generate procedural quizzes, specified with a simple programming language. These tests could even be automatically graded, and produce classroom stats on which concepts the whole class is struggling with. Each quiz would be different, but cover the same ground.

When I help my kid with her homework, we often find disorganized and scattered elements of this system – a teacher might post extensive notes on teaching a specific unit. A publisher might produce a classroom guide that connects a book to specific parts of the common core. But these are scattered across the web, and they aren't keyed to the specific, standard components of common core and AP.

This is a standardized system that is all costs, no benefits. It has no "architecture of participation" that lets teachers, students, parents, practitioners and even commercial publishers collaborate to produce a commons that all may share and improve upon.

In an ideal world, we'd get rid of standardization in education, pay teachers well, give them the additional time they needed to prepare exciting and relevant curriculum, and fund all our schools based on need, not parents' income.

But in the meanwhile, we could be making lemonade of out lemons. If we're going to have standardization, we should at least have the collaboration standards enable.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/16/flexibility-in-the-margins/#a-commons

#pluralistic #education #common core #commons #set texts #pedagogy #scratch #edtech

[lezbianchae]

When I say it’s okay.

-

Momo G!P x (fem reader)

Momo (reader as Nayeons Little sister) sneak fucking you at a sleep over.

Warnings: G!P, breeding k!nk, Exhibitionism

1.4K words

Momo had always had the hots for you. It was really hard to hide your relationship with momo in front of the other members, especially your big sister Nayeon. Nayeon would be extremely protective over you, I mean you were technically her baby, she’d hurt anyone who’d want to hurt you. She never found it suspicious how close you were with momo, Nayeon was just as close with Momo, so she just assumed it just because you 2 were siblings, and that she had a soft spot for you. Was she wrong, Momo just really wanted to screw you and wanted you to herself.

Nayeon had invited you over for Twice’s sleep over. It’s a thing the girls do where after every tour they spend time with each other and spend the night at someone’s dorm. This year the sleep over was at Nayeon and Momo’s dorm. Since Nayeon new how much you liked seeing Momo and how you were clingy towards her, she decided to have you over, all the members were okay with it Since you’re Nayeons little sis, you might as well be Twice’s too.

As you arrived to Nayeon and Momo dorm, you could already hear the conversations, and the movements happening in the room along with the smell of fried foods. You knocked on the door hearing footsteps coming towards it, as you’re greeted by a lovely bubbly face, Sana.

“Y/N! Come in! Come in!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you in with excitement. You almost tripped due to the sudden pull. You enter as you take off your shoes in the front of the door.

You see your Older sister, and the other members doing all sorts of things, Jeongyeon, Jihyo , Momo and Nayeon playing what ever competitive game on the switch, playing on the TV. Tzuyu and Dahyun trying to bake some sort of pastry (it smelt burnt…) and Mina and Chaeyoung watching Tzuyu and Dahyun probably burning down the kitchen. As Nayeon noticed you enter she had pause the game, causing the other girls to groan after the sudden stop. But had quickly changed their mood after your unnies saw you.

“Y/n! Y/n! You’re here!” Nayeon greeted, kissing your cheek while rubbing your head, causing your hair to be messy as you try to push off your older sister. Momo quickly dropped her control after seeing you, and had walked over eagerly but to wanting to seem desperate at the same time. She’s been dying to see you, she hasn’t seen you since part 2 of the tour stared.

“Y/n..” her eye sparked, she gave you a hug, while getting a whiff of your hair she always liked the way you smelt.

“Hi momoring.” You say as you held her hand, caressing her knuckles. She gave a soft smile, as you blushed and looked down at your socks.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with laughs, eating, playing Mario party on Mina’s switch. You were starting to get scared of Jihyo since she kept losing so much to which is quite rare to see. The other members were starting to fear her as well..

As everyone slowly felt tired, they all agreed that it was best they that they would get ready to sleep, and go out for breakfast tomorrow.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon helped set up the blankets, everyone will be sleeping in the living room. As everyone else got ready for bed, and you were getting ready bushing your teeth in the bathroom, a knock on the bathroom door was herd.

“Y/n..? It’s me Momo. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, that’s okay!” You shout.

Momo walked in, closing the door behind her, running into you and giving you a proper hug, leading her mouth on the crook of your neck, kissing it. Giving it a few nibbles.

“M-momoring…” you let out a few small grunts, Momo pulling off of you to look down at you. “I missed you so much y/n… not being able to see you has drove me crazy… I need you more then anything right now..” She tried to kiss you but stopped her before she could.

“M-momoring.. we can’t right now.. my sister is right outside! I don’t wanna risk it. I can’t risk..not being able to see you..can we do this when we’re more in private…? Please..?” Momo frowned. She needed you badly. But also wanted to respect you and your wishes. Even if she was desperate. As much as she needed you, you were right.

“Fine.. but can you at least sleep with me..? I’d like to hold you.” You gave in a thought.

“O-okay.. I mean it won’t look too weird right?” Momo pecked your cheek. “Yeah.” you continued to bush your teeth and Momo left to get a spot for the 2 of you.

“Alright girls! I Hope you Found a spot to sleep on tonight. Rest well.” Jihyo shouted, she turned off the lights. As you were crawling your way over to Momo’s spot, Nayeon gave a look to you, you ignored hoping it wasn’t a bad thing you were sleeping with Momo. Momo made room for you, you layed next to her. As you turn to your back, Momo spooning you as she put on the covers on top of both of you. You pressed your butt against Momo. It was already enough you were torturing her like this. Your sent, your body right pressed up against hers. It was driving her crazy, she couldn’t help but grind against your butt.

You noticed the sudden movement. Momo grinding a bit deeper. Her cock poking you.

“Momoring, what are you doing!” You whispered.

“I’m sorry Y/n I really can’t fucking help myself anymore. I really need you, right now. Please…” she was begging.

You felt bad for having her in this state, she needed some relief. You nodded, allowing her to use her to use you.

She grasped on your pajama pants, pulling them down, leaving you in your panties. She pulled her pajama pants and boxers. She slides herself between your thighs.

“F-fuck..” Momo quietly groans into your neck, she starts rubbing herself back and forth between your legs, she sucks on your neck to keep herself quiet. You held yourself still as Momo was grinding her cock on your clothed cunt, you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

“Y-y/n I’m so close..take of your panties… please.. I need to be in you so so bad.” You obeyed her immediately, sliding them off, allowing her to enter you. Momo sliding one of her hands in her shirt, groping your bare small breast and pinching your nipple.

Momo inserts herself in you slowly, She has you a whimpering mess, taking in the feeling of your walls closing around her cock. “F-fuck..you’re so warm.. you’re gonna make me cum by this alone..fuck..”

“M-momoring.. start moving..hhgh..” you moaned, which only cause Momo to get crazier. She started fucking you slowly to avoid any skin slapping noises, as you kept whimpering, gripping her hand tightly as a desperation to keep quiet, Momo stoped. “Shhh.. be a good girl and keep quiet for me okay? Can you do that for m-mommy?”

“Y-yes..” you said quietly. “That’s it, that’s my girl.” The praise had you crazy , you started moving by yourself,Momo moving the same pace.

As Momo went faster, it became so much harder to be able to keep quiet. Momo kissed your shoulder and neck, as she came close. “Please let me get you pregnant, fuck.. have my kids y/n please.” You nod violently, allowing her to finish in you, pumping her load in you having you to moan in the pillow. And there Momo was, practically breeding her best friends little sister.

After calming down from your high, Momo kissed your face frantically, her cock buried deep in you, while giving you pecks on the cheek.

“Y/n you did so good for me.. I’m so proud, I hope you’re pregnant with our kids and we’ll be happy mommies together. I love you so much baby.” All you could do was nod, you were so tried from Momo fucking you so all you did was kiss her hand, as momo wrapped her arm around around you. Sleeping while being connected with Momo.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next morning you two cleaned up, and after you and momo got out of the bathroom, Nayeon stared at you 2, in her big sister stance. She was especially staring hard Momo. She knew what Momo did and it was gonna be a rough morning.

#Momo #twice #momo twice #momo x reader #momo x fem reader #g!p momo #twice smut #twice x reader #kpop smut #smut #writing #teehee #spicy stuff

[gffa]

Usually, I like to finish reading a fic before recommending it properly, but I've been sucked into about five different STAR WARS fics recently that I've gotten far enough into that I'm willing to trust my heart to them because they're scratching a very specific itch for me--namely, that I want deeper explorations of both the Jedi Order and of Anakin's character. I want fic to punch me in the feelings over both of these aspects of the story. I want fic to sometimes set Obi-Wan and Anakin aside and focus on Ahsoka for awhile, really tell her story. I want Jedi themes woven into a story. I want an exploration of Anakin's mindset that reminds me of just how much I love him and have sympathy for him. And fandom has delivered for me.

DO YOU WANT FIC TO BLACK OUT TO AND LOSE AN ENTIRE WEEKEND OVER? HAVE I GOT SOME RECS FOR YOU:

✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, ahsoka & mace & jedi & clones & cast, 312.5k     In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know.     This fic accomplishes several things that have sent me over the moon: 1) At its heart, it's an Ahsoka fic that shows her growing up as a Padawan, going on missions, learning lessons, and having character growth. 2) It weaves in so many other characters around her, that Mace is there in almost every chapter, serious but warm in the Force, just as beautifully characterized as she is. 3) The other Jedi get their moments of excellents, Shaak taking Ahsoka on her Akul hunt was wonder to read, seeing Obi-Wan show up for a chapter had me over the moon, Adi taking care with Ahsoka was lovely, Depa was a shining star when she took Ahsoka under her wing, Fox growing used to these strange Jedi and growing into himself through Ahsoka's eyes was wonderful. 4) The writing is that kind of solid that I don't mean as mid-tier, but the kind that I feel like can bear weight on it, I can pick it up and read for 30k and barely realize any time has passed, despite that I've gotten through an entire arc of the fic. 5) It does an incredible job of balancing that feel of The Clone Wars show, without directly copying anything, that it's like these are arcs that I could have seen on the show itself, the lessons woven in, but still with enough plot moving forward and action to make it exciting. If you want more Jedi-centric fic in your life (where they don't have to be perfect! sometimes they can be less than perfect and it's okay because they're still good! ohhhh, my heart warmed at that) or you want to read a lovely Ahsoka-centric fic in a different life, but still so recognizably herself, then this is one I want to shove right in your face immediately.

✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 116.k wip     Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right?     I got sucked into the first fic in this series (which is complete, if you want to read it--it's not the end of the story, but it's a good stopping point and feels like it should have some solid resolution if you don't want to get into a wip) and read the first fic over the course of about three days because I was sucked in so thoroughly. I can never get enough of Obi-Wan time traveling back to the past, where he loves the Jedi and they love him, and I love this one because he has to make genuine plans for changing things--things change and I have no idea how that's going to affect Palpatine's machinations! Exciting! But it's also a lovely look at Obi-Wan's dynamics with multiple characters--I found the Obi-Wan & Padme scenes a hightlight personally, their friendship really blossomed as they both flung themselves into trying to better the galaxy, even if she doesn't know he's from the future, that he's working so hard matched a lot of her energy and I really enjoyed that--from Qui-Gon to Mace to Padme to Anakin and, as the sequel progresses, Dooku as well. It's another Jedi-positive fic, it has me invested in the plot, it's a joy to see competent!Obi-Wan, and I would love to shove it at more people.

✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin, 46k (wip-esque)     After a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along.     This is probably the shortest fic on this list but I'm including it because it genuinely felt longer than that, for how dense the emotional intensity of it is. It's an AU where the Jedi barely eked out a victory, still on the edge of extinction in many ways, and Anakin deep in the pits of the dark side, so Obi-Wan takes him to a backwater planet in exile for the both of them, traveling through the countryside and just trying to make it from day to day. What punched me right in the feelings place is that this fic doesn't shy away from the hurt and the anger on both sides, that both of them are allowed to be unreliable narrators that have their own points of view on what's transpired and what lays between them. It doesn't back away from the hurt they both feel, the despair they both feel, yet there's hope here. It's ultimately a story about clawing yourself back from the dark side, and it's beautifully characterized for both of them, that unkind things are said on both of their parts, but you understand why the characters are in the place they are. It's wrapped up in a lushly written backdrop, with some lovely Japanese feudal era details woven in, but also with a Star Wars patina spread across all of it. It's not necessarily a kind fic, but if you like fic that bites down on a wound, I enjoyed this series a lot and would love to see it continued--but, honestly, what's here is already enough resolution that, looking back on it after the initial "Noooooo, I need more!" feeling has faded, I'm actually very satisfied with. ✦ Men of Power by AlabasterInk, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & jedi & palpatine & cast, 86.1k wip     When an old powerful man suddenly comes in and sweeps your underage Padawan away without so much as a by your leave, that’s the time to start asking questions.     I'm only about 20k into this fic, so I can't say what shape it will take later on or how much pairings might come into it, but I still had to come running over to shove this fic at people, because it's scratching the itch I have for Jedi-positive fic that explores the idea of Anakin's trauma from his childhood as a slave, that this is a child who is wound so tight and comes from such a horrible thing having been done to him, having been owned as a person, that I understand why he stays silent on some of the things I desperately wish he could talk about or he doesn't really believe some of the things the Jedi tell him. It's a fic that takes a lot more care with Anakin's character than I think canon ever intended, weaving in a lot of the heartbreaking stuff from Legends' supplementing the canon, and is creating something that punches me right in the feelings place for him, that he's such a bright, brilliant boy, but I see why he struggled and it's not about assigning blame in any direction. It's about deeply caring people who fate has take a few steps to the left and something shifts just a little--and I appreciate that there's something very delicate feeling here, that the Jedi just don't have any real reason to be suspicious of Palpatine, his actions make sense, they genuinely can't feel any ill intention from him in the Force, they discuss why it would make sense that he'd want to support Anakin, all while we the readers can see, in hindsight, where the shadows have been creeping in. If you want Jedi-positive fic that also leaves some teeth marks over Anakin's trauma being explored in a way that is entirely sympathetic to him, then I want to shove this fic at you, too.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #mace windu #yoda #ahsoka tano #jedi order #fic recs #star wars fic recs

[itstheghostofmypast]

Always, Any Day

Idol Park Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: At this point it didn't matter who was more sad, who was hurt or who was to blame, all that mattered was that they were always there for each other.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: insecurities

Est.Read Time: 14 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Ratings: nc-17

Banner: @cafekitsune

“A bunny?” his deep voice a bit too loud for the silence that surrounded them, causing her to shush him, earning an eye roll, before he rolled his chair closer to the bed where she was sprawled out, “Why can’t I be like a tiger or a dragon?”

“Because Ddeongbyeoli is a bunny too and- you don’t look like a tiger and thank god not like a dragon, why would you want to look like a scale-covered serpent.” She mumbled, eying him, thinking of throwing something at him to get his attention, but she knew he’d get all finicky about his room remaining clean- God, why did she love him?

“Because why not? They’re cool.” The timbre of his voice almost had her shiver, who knew behind the face of an angel, sat the spawn of Satan who wasn’t paying attention to his poor little girlfriend- horrible behavior, just negligence, tsk.

"Plus, San agrees with me." She mumbled, leaning against his pillows, glancing away from her phone to his hunched back, he was hunched over his desk, so close to the screen his face might as well be glued to it at this point.

"Yah....why are you having these conversations with him?" He scoffed, the clicking of his mouse loud and noisy, causing her to grimace, she was in pain as it was, her senses heightened to the max, which was why she needed him to pay attention to her, hence the stupid topic of conversation. 

"Because he actually spends time with me when he calls me over." With a small huff, she turned to her side, wincing when she felt another cramp, dropping her phone on the bed as she curled into a fetal position, trying to breathe out the pain, too upset and emotional to even ask him for help.

"Calls you over?" pausing at the statement he sat up straight, only turn around in his chair to look at her, to further brew upon his accusational lecture that was on the tip of his tongue, his angelic features furrowed and visibly upset, "What do you mean, do you two hang out without me- are you okay?” The instant change of tone, the voice of concern almost made her emotional- man being a woman was difficult.

He got up to move closer to her, the bed dipping when he got on the bed, the micro shift of angle causing her to whine and curl up harder, mumbling, “Yeah, just woman things, you know.” She huffed, cracking open an eye when he slowly turned her onto her back, smiling down at her, though she was more engrossed by his hair, watching the silky strands cascade down, framing his face, making him appear as beautiful as a deity, she hit it hard with lady luck this time. Slowly reaching up to caress his cheek she smiled, twirling a lock of his hair in her fingers, “You’re very pretty, Hwa.” Her whispers did not stop there, eyes drinking in his blushed features, basking in his humility and beauty, “How can you look so pretty and handsome at the same time?”

“Stop” he whispered back placing his hand on hers, nuzzling his face into her palm before pressing a soft kiss onto it, “You should have told me.” He sighed, clasping her hand in his, lowering it to press his lips onto her knuckles, eying her tired features, “Have you been resting well?”

“I’ve been resting just fine, I-” pausing momentarily she let the cramp pass before sighing, “I sleep early, mind you.”

Raising an eyebrow at her he glanced up at the clock at his bedside, “I- you’ve been here since ten, there is no way you sleep early.” He sighed before pulling back, ignoring her whining and complaining, truth be told he loved it when she was all clingy like that, if there was one thing Park Seonghwa loved to do, it was to take care of others, and who else than his girlfriend?

“Where are you going?” she whined, trying to get up but his hand on her shoulder pressed her down, watching him intently as he pulled back, only to pull the covers on top of her form, “I’m going to get you a hot water bottle and some tea…maybe something to eat too, I’m sure the guys ordered something nice last night, stay here and don’t move.”

She watched him walk out, making sure to take her heart with him as he walked into the kitchen, surprisingly it was quiet, so it either meant everyone was asleep or they were up to no good- well, Hongjoong must’ve been at the studio, he barely ever came home at a decent time. Silently he opened the cabinet, thinking of making her something to eat too, perhaps a sandwich, did they have peanut butter? With the tea on the stove he hummed to himself, thinking of how he wanted to surprise her today, which is why he had called her over so he could show her the things he got for them, well, clothes- yes, he had gotten them couple shirts, hoodies, jackets and even a pair of converse. Unfortunately, he wasn’t home today, but Wooyoung was and he had asked him to take the parcels when they were to be delivered but he had slept through most of the day so he never knew when the delivery had come, well the parcel was shipped back to the seller because of him- though he couldn’t really be mad at Wooyoung, right? Wrong. This involved his little cutie-pie he had every right to be upset with him, which is why he punished him by banning him from meeting or talking to her for a week, which is why he had gobbled down the chocolate she brought for Wooyoung, snatching it from her hand claiming, ‘Woo is on a diet’. Moreover, he had spent the last hour trying to communicate with the seller, typing and clicking away to arrange a new delivery time and date, because of that he had neglected his baby, and had even forgotten that her period date was near, like why else would a grown man have a period tracking app in his phone- that was an uncomfortable conversation to have with Hongjoong who one day found him marking the date on the app’s calendar.

Making his way back to his room, tray in hand, a couple of nicely cut triangular sandwiches, with no edges, slightly toasted and generously coated with peanut butter and jelly, along with a cup of good old green tea to help with the cramps he smiled to himself, reflecting upon how wonderful of a boyfriend truly was, and how much time he was going to spend with her now, pampering her throughout the night too- only his little parade came to an end when he saw his bedroom door ajar, didn’t he close it before going to the kitchen? Did she leave to go to the washroom? But she would often ask him to check if it was empty or if it was okay for her to use it. The sound of incoherent chatter had him marching to the room, slamming the door open to catch the two in the act.

Well, technically there was nothing wrong happening, his angel was reclining against his pillows, hugging Ddeongbyeoli in her lap as she watched Wooyoung talk, most animatedly, a pleasant smile plastered on her sweet features, but it was the presence of this feral being that irked him, especially when he had ignored Seonghwa’s warnings and punishment, its as if this brat didn’t even listen to him anymore.

“What you doing here?” he spat, walking into the room, glaring at the man who was seated on HIS swivel chair, “Get out.” With that he kicked the chair away from the bed, watching it roll onto the other end before placing the tray on her lap, smiling at her with the million-dollar Hwa smile, “Here, angel, make sure to drink it while it's warm.” Though his warm eyes and words were met with a cold stare and a frown, much to his displeasure, of course, Wooyoung was playing the favorite parent game.

“Why did you lie about Woo being on a diet?” she whispered-yelled at him, eying the boy (or manchild as Seonghwa would say) at the other corner of the room, playing with the strings of his hoodie like a sad little boy.

“I didn’t, I-” sighing he paused standing up straight to look at her, was she serious, but the way she raised her eyebrows at him had him rolling on the ground -figuratively- of course, she’d go out of the way to make everyone feel welcomed and loved, this was who she was and this was why he loved her to the ends of the heaven, but man, her empathy was now interfering with his power dynamics at home. “He’s being punished.” Was all he said, no, concluded before sitting next to her picking up a sandwich, and pressing it against her lips, “Eat up, angel, and ignore the brat, don’t listen to him, we’ve spoiled him too much for his own good.”

“No, we haven’t,” she mumbled, taking it from him so she could eat on her own but he didn’t budge, instead clicked his tongue, “He ruined my surprise for you-”

“It was an accident! I said I was sorry!” He cut him off, only for Seonghwa to turn to him, pointing at him, “You also barged into my room like you own it! What if she was in her comfortable clothes!?”

“You mean naked? Just say nake-” He paused, trying to suppress his inner Wooyoung, even though her chuckle had him smiling in glee, especially when he noticed how Seonghwa looked like his head was about to explode, mission accomplished “I knocked before I came in, I didn’t know she was here today, I was coming to apologize to you.” He smiled at the man who was still frowning at him, sure he knew Wooyoung was sorry, but he was still visibly upset about it, he had actually thought of taking her out soon, possibly wearing the couple attire to match and look all cutesy.

“Hwa…he said he’s sorry, I know you can’t be so mad because of a delay in shipping,” she smiled reaching for his hand, lacing their fingers together when he turned back to look at her with a pout, her heart almost shattered when she noticed the moisture in his eyes, this was important for him, she could tell- truth be told, she had been wanting to talk to him for a while now, she knew how busy he had been with promotions and shoots, she’d seen him work his butt off, sleep deprive himself, starve himself and tire himself out- the only sane stress reliever he had was buying cute things, so she could understand how upset he must’ve been when he couldn’t receive his parcel today, in addition to sorting out the issue that took up the time they could be spending together. Her Hwa was really the sweetest person she’d ever known.

His head dipped in guilt, maybe he was a bit too rough on him, he didn’t really need to yell at Wooyoung- more importantly who was he to decide who she could be friends with and whom she should ignore, that wasn’t his place, he was her boyfriend, not an obsessive, controlling monster-  God, she must think he’s weird. He really doesn’t know when he did, but a few moments later his face was buried in the crook of her neck, sniffing as she soothingly rubbed his back, his arms wrapping around her frame, silently weeping, ashamed that Wooyoung had seen him break down like this, ashamed that he had his lover – who was already in a pain- comfort him instead of the other way around. His deep voice rumbling, as he mumbled one apology after another, though she shushed him, pulling him closer, as she kissed the top of his head, smiling at the scent of the familiar shampoo, “It’s okay Hwa, we all know you’re tired, you need to rest too.” She whispered, resting her chin atop of his head, letting him pour out his heart.

She eyed Wooyoung who pouted in guilt before quickly standing up and leaving the room, not that she minded it, she wasn’t upset with him in the first place, he was obviously as tired as Seonghwa, so it was natural for him to make a mistake- maybe next time she’d tell Hwa to get his stuff delivered at her place, she worked near her home anyway, and she’d be able to receive the things for him, instead of troubling anyone else- especially all the hardworking boys, including her own lover.

“Are you… feeling better?” she smiled when he finally pulled back, wiping his cheeks with the back of her sleeve, “Hwa, didn’t I tell you to not overburden yourself? Hmmm?” she whispered, caressing the swollen under eyes, “You don’t need to get me things to prove you love me, I already know that, you make sure I don’t forget it- I know you love me forever, always, any day.” Leaning forward she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, caressing the hair away from his eyes, tucking a few strands behind his ear, watching him hiccup, before slowly pushing her hand away as he whispered, trying to keep his trembling voice at bay, “I was supposed to be taking care of you…not you…I’m sorry” he whined, only to let out another sob, causing her to sigh and pull him into a proper hug, squeezing him close and tight, “Hwa, it’s okay, I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay- just calm down, please?” she tried to reassure him, over and over again, only to stop when there was a knock on the door, causing her to look up at Wooyoung, nodding at him, allowing him to come in as he cleared his throat.

“So, these aren’t done, I’ve been working on these, I originally planned on giving you each pair on your respective birthdays- but since I am at fault here and Seonghwa- can you please stop crying and look over here, I am trying to be the bigger person!” he scoffed, placing the shoe boxes on the edge of the bed, only for Seonghwa to immediately pick them up and place them on his desk, clicking his tongue, staring at the younger one, with a rosy nose and swollen eyes- definitely threatening, as he hissed, “The bed will get dirty.”

“…Sir I- wow, you really know how to ruin the moment huh?” the younger one bit back only to stop when she cleared her throat, “You were saying Woo?” her voice sweet and gentle, but he could sense the edge, he could tell he was testing her patience now too, perhaps because she was busier trying to console her boyfriend, trying to pick up the fallen pieces and place them back together.

“S-sorry, what I mean, is…just open the boxes, I knew your size anyway.” He mumbled handing each their box before going back to stand near the door. The two flipped open the lid to find a pair of matching Converse, customized by Wooyoung- well in the process, but the detailing was immaculately executed, with a minimalistic finesse, the choice of colour screamed Wooyoung though, causing her to smile and look at Seonghwa, “Would you look at that Hwa, he really knew what his big brother wanted all along.”

Nodding quietly Seonghwa cleared his throat and turned to look at Wooyoung, about to speak but he raised his hand to stop him, “Don’t thank me, just know that my privileges to talk to her aren’t linked to you being in a relationship with her, but with my friendship with her.” With that dramatic monologue, he walked out of the room, leaving the older one shaking his head in defeat, only to turn around to find her scooting to the wall, making room for him, “Well I’m done with my tea but I sure could use help finishing the sandwiches, especially with someone I could watch a film with.”

Smiling at her he nodded, lifting the blankets to move closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, enjoying the feeling of her snuggling closer to him as he propped up his phone on the tray, scrolling with his free hand, basking in the attention she was giving him, eying him from below, drawing intricate patterns on his shirt, before snuggling closer and wrapping an arm around him, “I love you, Hwa, don’t forget that, ever.”

He could only nod at the statement, he had never forgotten that, he could never forget that, he only ever meant for her to feel the same amount of love she would shower him with- if not possibly more. He wanted her to feel that he would always be there for her, always would be there to love her, to solve her problems, and perhaps even have her be the only person he could be vulnerable with- for he was hers to love, always, any day.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee

@mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

#cromernet #k labels #ateez #fluff #choi san #mingi #hongjoong #jongho #seonghwa #yeosang #yunho #ateez timestamps #ateez scenario #choi san fluff #ateez fluff #atz scenarios #atz imagines #song mingi #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez x you #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #atz #atiny #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x y/n

[wonuwrites]

are you still looking for MTL suggestions? how about MTL likely to have the rest of the group scheme to get them a date.

so like Most = the guy with zero rizz. he's shy or awkward or both but he needs all the help he can get. or he's the dummy who doesn't know he's in love. the members all "casually" DM you on the same day to see what you're doing on the day that he has open.

Least = this guy pulls. the members don't even know who he's out with, or if it's the same person every time, just that he's always out. the members trying to get him a date would actually backfire by throwing him off his game. their hijinks would be disastrous and he would be mortified but his blushing is so cute you still agree to a date. this man cannot be stopped.

Always looking MTL suggestions and sooo excited for this LOLOLOL. Thank you for asking for a MTL <3

Warnings: mostly fluffy but def some will be suggestive. *Cough Cough MINGYU Cough Cough*

A/N: I hope I did this the way you wanted if you wanted it to be written. also I'll be adding "songs" I was listening to while writing each of their parts to their name. For example:

Wonwoo (song linked is Message In A Bottle by Taylor Swift)

just doing so bc sharing music is a love language of mine and getting 13 chances to do that is awesome imo <3 LOL

before we begin I do want to say something: I do think all members have a bit of rizz to them. I think if they were presented with an opportunity they would kill it. I mean, they have MILLIONS of people who love them because they are them. The way I wrote this is based on my interpretations on how they've done things with Nana Tour and GoSe episodes. Please note this may differ from what others may see. Please let me know what y'all think after reading it. <3 ok let's start :D

M O S T

✫ Woozi *song note: this song has nothing to do with this one shot but ye*

Jihoon is one of those weird ones where he can charm people like nobody's business but idk I feel like he is really into his work so dating or anything like that is at the bottom of the barrel at the this point. I can see if he were to have a crush on someone, he would love them from afar because he doesn't want to ruin things with you but also not with his work. Due to this thought process is why I have him at first. He would NEED the members to step in because honestly, he could be okay with just loving you from afar. I could see members setting up blind dates for him actually. I could see all 12 of them trying so hard to be a wingman but honestly it was up to him whether or not he would want to have extra commitment at the time or not. Let's say a blind date did happen and you were the apple of his eye and all the members were in on it. I feel like it would be the most adorable yet most awkward date because of nerves and everything like that. He thought you were pretty and tbh, so did you. You thought he was cute as hell (which you are right.) If the date went well, he would def be the one to ask you for a second date and your number if he didn't already have it. <3

✫ Jun *song note: I'm obsessed with this song.*

I was debating on putting Jun and Jihoon at most for the longest time. Like I said in my Authors Note, I do think all of them have some type of rizz or whatever but Jun is one of the more quiet and shy members. The reasons I have him second is because I feel like he would like people that intimidate him at first meeting? haha. According to his K Profile he likes "someone who looks pure. He also likes sexy girls." So take that as you will. Anyways, I feel like he'd be a bit shy if he liked someone at first and would really be in his head about it. The members would literally drag him to your first date and if there was an outing with you they would always make sure you two were near each other. After a few awkward moments of adorable giggles and glances at each other, you both went on a double date with one of the other members (tbh probably Soonyoung or Minghao) and it was at that moment all the anxieties had went out the window. Over time, he became more confident and comfortable with your budding relationship. so sorry this is all jumbled, I had no inspo for this one :(

✫ Seungkwan *song note: the last NCT 127 I genuinely liked :(*

Seungkwan is pretty extroverted but he gets into his head a lot so out of all the members I can actually see him asking one of his hyungs to help him out. LOL. He just trusts his hyungs for the most part and he really wanted to be yours but he was afraid. He would try to act confident at all times but when it came to you he was a shy bean. He would probably have Seokmin or Jeonghan help him out if he were to personally ask for help. ngl, I can also see Mingyu trying to help him out as well but it would be more of a "I want Boo Seungkwan to be happy and I'm tired of him not making a move." After the guys planned a date for y'all, similarly to Jun his anxieties lightened up. He was enchanted for this moment and he was hoping you were also enchanted.

✫ S Coups *song name: this was high school and i miss hearing it on the bus*

Look, Seungcheol has got rizz, we all know this. HEAR ME OUT THO. There was a thing I saw a few weeks ago where he said he was sad because one day he would break million of carats hearts when he gets married which :') (PRECIOUS.) So because of this I feel like that's his mentality right now where he doesn't want to hurt anyone plus his main focus is Seventeen. I feel like he'd be the member where if he had a crush on you, he rather admire from a distant instead of hurting you because idol life and fear of what dating news would be like. I feel like Seventeen would hate seeing him hurt himself in process of trying not to hurt you but they could see his unintentional cold shoulder to you would be killing you inside. One day, Joshua couldn't handle it anymore and just texted both of you to meet at a restaurant to meet up and just see how things go. Which it did as everyone but you two assumed would. help this gives me a one shot idea. if someone wants it pls let me know xo

✫ Hoshi *song note: ngl I might make a oneshot with Soonyoung with this song in future*

Soonyoung is such a wild card so I put him in a category of "could go either way" along with Minghao and Wonwoo. With Soonyoung I feel like he is someone that would not have trouble in dating or getting numbers but I also know he is a bit more shy and reserved around others that he doesn't know so he wouldn't mind if other members got involved. I feel like he'd be more chill about their help then Wonwoo and Minghao. I think it wouldn't even matter which member or members were to help him out. He'd just be grateful for the support from them. If it was from members, it would mostly be a blind date where neither of you really knew each other but if you were friends with one of the members already he'd be a bit more comfortable. If your date was because of him, expect a very blushy Soonyoung who would be smiley the whole time because someone as special as you agreed to spend a few hours with someone like him.

✫ Minghao *song note: this is my fave song atm*

Minghao like I said in Soonyoung's part is part of my "it could go either way" line. I feel like unlike Soonyoung it would matter who helped him out because I feel like he'd ask for advice from the older members or the 97 line on what he should do. I feel like he would want to pursue you but he would be nervous about rejection which... who in their right mind would ever reject him?! Anyways, that would be why he would go seeking for help. I feel like once he got over that hurdle of self doubt and lands a date with you with the help of Jun he would be such a gentleman and you would wonder how in the world you were able to meet someone as amazing as Xu Minghao.

✫ Wonwoo

The final member of the "it could go either way" is the handsome as HELL member Jeon Wonwoo. (yes they are all handsome as hell but I am so whipped for him it's not okay.) With Wonwoo, I feel like he would admire from afar for a while and debate on if he would want to pursue someone or not. From what I've read online, it takes him awhile to get used to people which is why it would take him a month or so to see what he wants. Which is why his members would get involved. Some members, ie Hip Hop Unit (especially Seungcheol) might get impatient with is prolonged plan and would message you and invite you to an event with them. While at the event, they would try to subtly make sure that you both were near each other the whole time. I can see Seungcheol smirking if you both started to talk throughout the night and ignoring everyone else in the process. Mission accomplished.

me after i saw this gif

✫ Jeonghan *song note: I'm not even sorry about this song. it's a bop*

Now we are getting into the "members that don't need help" category. I feel like it is perfect to start it off with Yoon Jeonghan. Jeonghan has such a loving personality and has rizz that makes anyone blush. Don't believe me? Watch him with Hyungwon from Monsta X LMAOOOOO Anyways, I feel like if he likes you he would tease you like a school yard kid. Some might find it strange but it would win you over and have you tease him back as well. Bottom line you both would be leaving said conversations with new phone numbers in your phone afterwards.

✫ Joshua *song note: Help this song just gave me inspo for a Joshua one shot o.o*

Hong Jisoo is such a flirt, if you don't agree you can argue with the freaking wall. He would have you kicking your feet by just saying hello LMAO. He might act shy but we know homie is an extrovert and honestly I could see him pulling an Ariana Grande with you. "I see it, I want it, I got it." but of course make it *gentleman-y* He would come up to you first and would ask you questions and would just have you smiling and honestly as would you. Anyone looking would have thought y'all have known each other forever.

✫ Vernon *song note: this song is song of all songs*

Hansol doesn't need ANY help when it comes to dating but he's similar to Wonwoo where he is very selective to who he dates. He's the type of guy if he likes somebody, he will tell them or just pursue him. I can see him being one of the most casual members when it comes to asking you to go on a date or to be his. He'd ask you what you like to do and then would say something along the lines, "oh cool, would you like to do that sometime with me?" He would be all smiles if you said sure and honestly, it would surprise some of his members how good he was at getting dates. But then again, they all were obsessed with his charms as well so????

✫ Dokyeom *song note: hot people are swarats. (Swifite x Carats)*

For the final three we are in the "they def fuck" category LOL. I know Seokmin seems like a wild card pick but hear me out. I feel like even though he is introverted, he is also outgoing and not afraid to make connections. Plus he is part of the 97 group chat and idk to me the majority of that line just drip with rizz and able to get dates. I feel like Seokmin is similar to Jeonghan where his loving personality and just how he is makes people swoon. At first you were hesitant when you first became acquainted with him. You thought he was too good to be true. When you told him that, he would be taken aback and do everything in his power to show you that he was serious about you. idk how i feel about this one, I might come back and rewrite this or do a drabble later

✫ Dino *song note: this is my husband. yes he makes baby making music.*

pls don't tell him wait~~ sorry. anywhore. LEE CHAN fucks but also is a lover boy. I could end it there but that would be boring and Dinonara's deserve better. To be fair, if it wasn't for Wait he would not have been this low but Wait was just wow. Chan just has an aura where he would be such a tease to his significant other or his future partner. I can see him being a mashup of Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Joshua. He would be such an annoying flirt and would laugh or smirk if it made you flustered. Even if it came of cocky, it worked pretty well on his behalf. His members still would tease him regardless of the outcome too.

✫ Mingyu *Song Note: :) :) :) I love this song*

Kim Mingyu. This man fucks and it's delulu to think he does not. It's honestly weird when I think about Mingyu. I mean this respectfully when I say he gives such fuck boy x house husband vibes and sometimes it pisses me off. That's an aries for you tho. LMAO. Anyways, it's almost impossible to not fall in love with Mingyu. Not only is he super attractive but he also is just genuinely so nice which is why he would not struggle. Even if it is easy for him, if he was with you. He was with. you. He would be so down bad and would constantly compliment, flirt, and just love you. It would be as simple as basic math to him.

this took so much longer than I thought it would. I hope I did it the way you wanted me too <33

#wonuwrites #seventeen #seventeen reactions #svt fluff #svt x reader #hoshi reaction #s coups reaction #svt ot13 #svt headcanons #seventeen ot13 reaction #s coups x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #jun x reader #hoshi x reader #wonwoo x reader #woozi x reader #dk x reader #mingyu x reader #the8 x reader #vernon #vernon x reader #seungkwan x reader #dino x reader

[girlylukehughes]

Casual ~ Luke Hughes

Description: Luke thinks things are casual between him and y/n… she doesn't feel that way anymore.  Warnings: angst, unresolved ending, smut, p in v(protected), oral(f receiving), mixed signals, asshole! Luke, anxiety attack/symptoms mentioned, naive reader(i think??) 

authors note: i’ve never written smut before this so bear with me okay

(flashbacks in italics)

When you agreed to be friends with benefits with Luke 6 months ago you never thought the argument you were having right now would happen. On opposite sides of his room in the sophomore house, his head in his hands as he sits on his blue comforter, you basically burning a hole into the carpet with your pacing. This whole argument started when you overheard the conversation he was having with Ethan and Mark outside of Yost. 

“So you and y/n have been together for a while now huh?” Mark said to Luke.

 “Yeah it's been like 6 months now bro, when are you finally gonna post her on  your insta?” 

Luke let out a chuckle, “Never gonna happen.” Mark and Ethan turn to each other, confused, “what do you mean Luke? Is this like a Hughes thing and you don’t want her to get hate?” 

“Mark, I could truly care less. She’s just a girl I bang on our couch sometimes. We're not together. Not gonna ever happen.” You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, throat burning. Over Luke’s tall shoulder Ethan spots you, mouth in a frown, a single tear slipping down your cheek.

 “Bro…” He whispers quietly, his tone full of sympathy and worry. He nods his head behind Luke causing him to look back at you. You stand there roughly rubbing that tear off your cheek so he can't see it, but he already saw, he felt nothing about it though.

 “Y/n,” he sighed out, you cut him off with a sniffle, “You know I thought you thought of me better than that but I guess I’m just the girl you occasionally fuck. Only good enough to keep your dick wet when you got tired of fucking anything in a skirt.” The tears are freely falling now, Ethan and Mark behind Luke look devastated for you, Luke himself just looks pissed.

 “Y/n we agreed that there were no attachments. You can’t get all upset when you’re the one who broke that. We said if we catch feelings it will stop.”

 “Then it never should have started Luke!” you screamed at him. His face turned to one of shock before going back to its pissed off scowl. 

“We're not doing this here. Get in the car, we're going home.” Luke starts walking towards his car, looking back once he realizes you're not following.

 “Luke, I'm not doing this. I’m done freely following every word you say, I'm not gonna follow you like a lost little puppy.”

 “Y/n please just get in the car so we can talk. I'll let you have the floor, you can talk. I'll listen please.” You sigh, following him to the car. The drive over to the sophomore house takes less than five minutes. The quietest five minutes of your lives. This leaves you where you are now. 

“Are you gonna say something or what?” Luke says, his voice muffled by the hands over his face. 

“You know Luke, you said this was “Casual” but what's casual about you, a week ago, your head between my thighs while you ate me out in the front seat of your car while you whispered things like ‘i love you’ and ‘you’re the only girl for me’? What is casual about that?” Your voice raises with each question. Luke looks up from his hands, his face twisted with confusion and regret. “Y/n/n-”  “No,” you cut him off, “It's my turn to talk. That's what you wanted right? You said I got the floor. So now it's your turn to shut up and listen. How was it casual when two weeks after this started your mom came up to me talking about how much you ‘talk about me’ and then she  invited me to the lake house this summer? Was it casual when Jack called me mid anxiety attack because he felt like his chest was caving in and I had to talk him through it?” You make your way over to his dresser opening the top drawer, “What's casual about me keeping my favorite clothes here because YOU asked me to? My favorite bra literally lives in your dresser Luke. You know I try to be the cool, chill girl but you know what I can’t fake it anymore! I’m not that girl! I have feelings, I care!” 

“Why didn’t you fucking say something then!” He finally shouts, “You didn’t have to leave your shit here if you didn’t want to! You didn’t have to deal with Jack, he’s not your fucking responsibility!” 

“But I fucking wanted to! Jesus Luke! I was delusional enough to think that you actually liked me! I had this stupid idea in my head that when you went to Jersey you’d ask me to go with you! That next year it would just be me and you! We’d have an apartment and you’d finally show me off to your friends! But no, I’m just dumb and in love with an asshole.” You sigh, sliding your back down the door, sitting on the floor with your knees to your chest. 

“You’re in love with me?” he whispers out. “Why?” 

“It was that dinner with your parents last month. That did it for me.” 

“Hey, are you almost ready?” Luke asks as he walks up behind you in the mirror, his hands on your waist. 

“Yeah, I just need to put my earrings in and we can go.” Smiling at Luke in the mirror, his face goes to your neck and he lightly sucks on the pulse point a small whine coming from your mouth. “Luke stop, I can’t show up to dinner with your parents with a giant hickey on my neck.” 

“Fine,” he huffs out. 

The drive to the restaurant is about 45 minutes of his hand inching further and further up your thigh, at one point teasing the edge of your panties before moving back down. Knowing you’re all worked up, Luke smirks at you before parking the car and getting out to open your door. Holding hands the whole way to the table you greet his parents with hugs and take a seat across from Ellen, Luke next to you and across from Jim. Halfway through dinner, Luke’s middle finger makes contact with your clit through your panties. Crossing your legs and trapping his hand, you lightly shift your body for more contact, that's when the idea sparks in his head. “Hey while we wait for dessert to come out I'm gonna go show her the tulip garden outside, they’re her favorite” Luke smiles at his parents. 

“Alright hun just don't take too long, wouldn’t want your dad to eat all the dessert,” Ellen jokes. 

“We’ll be quick, promise” You smile at her. Luke helps you out of your chair before taking your hand and leading you towards the back door. Once his parents are no longer watching he pulls you down the side hallway and into the bathroom, trapping you between him and the sink. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with his thumb before kissing you long and hard. Your body sinks into him, deepening the kiss. 

“Need you Luke,” you say looking up at him through your eyelashes. Your hands fumble with his belt as his hands work your dress over your hips, and sliding your panties down. His strong fingers find your clit again, rubbing in painfully slow circles on the bundle of nerves before slipping them further back and into you. A sigh leaving your mouth mixes with the groan leaving his as you palm him through his boxers. Pulling away before he slides his pants down and grabbing the condom out of his back pocket, you unbutton his shirt, raking your fingers up and down his toned stomach.

“Please Luke,” you whine, rushing him to put the condom on as you slide the straps of your dress down exposing your chest. In two seconds flat he's lifting you onto the counter and sliding his hard cock into you, hushed moans leaving both of you before he reattaches his mouth to yours before pumping into you harder and faster. 

“Love this pussy,” he whispers against your lips. “Love these lips too.” Your brain fogs over at the words leaving his mouth. Love.  He’s never said that before. Usually it's just possessive things like “this is mine” and “no one else gets you like this”. Love meant something else to you. Angling your hips, he hits that soft spongy spot in you and you’re seeing stars and your orgasm hits you hard, clinging to him tight. The feeling of you squeezing around him tips him over the edge. Luke waits a minute before pulling out and throwing the condom in the trash before wetting a paper towel and cleaning up between your thighs. Instead of giving you your panties he slips them into his back pocket before saying with a smirk, “You can have them back later if you're a good girl.” Straightening out your dress and  turning around to face the mirror you get a sense of deja vu as the scene from two hours earlier repeats itself with Luke kissing up your neck from behind until he reaches your lips. Pulling away a minute later he helps flatten out your hair as you fix his curls. Making your way back to the table hand in hand before digging into the dessert that arrived long ago. 

“Y/n, that was just a bathroom fuck. Why are you being so bitter about it?” Luke scoffs. 

“Luke I fucked you in a restaurant bathroom, while your parents were sitting at a table waiting for us and you wonder why I’m bitter? God you’re more dense than I thought. You know what? Just go back to bragging to your friends about fucking me and having me sit there and look stupid while you clearly don’t give a fuck about me for more than my body and what you get from it.” You open his bedroom door, making your way down the stairs with him following you. 

“Y/n, baby don’t leave, come on we can fix this.” 

“No.” you whisper, before finally looking into his eyes. Eyes that are now filled with a shine of tears and regret. “I hate that I let this drag on for as long as I did. I fucking hate myself for it.”

“Y/n please-” cutting him off, looking straight into his eyes, “Go to hell Luke.” Slamming the front door and walking home, the heavy weight on your chest gone.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #new jersey devils #umich hockey #jay speaks!!🪩 #Spotify

[animehideout]

Can u write oneshot satoXshort f!reader? And both entp!( I mean he ofc is but like u get it)

I don't k if i can or the requests r open but I hoppee!!

GOJO SATORU X ENTP SHORT F!READER

A/n : Hii bestie @nana-saturo , sorry for this late update. I really hope you like it tho 😭✨ sending you big huggies ʕ⁠っ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠っ

Both ENTPs? Teasing and sarcasm are the backbone of your relationship, your number one love language and both of you agree on that.  You have a unique kind of romance, filled with banter, competition, roasting each other and a lot of skinship. You just love touching each other at any given chance and under any circumstances. You’d be hanging out alone or with your group of friends, randomly and unexpectedly, you decide to shower each other in affection. You’re a dynamic and chaotic couple, literally annoying each other and everyone else in the room. May or may not use insults as nicknames.

ENTPs get bored easily and want to be entertained 24/7 or you might lose interest. Lucky for you, you found each other, both you and Gojo have a blast together in your own  unique way. You may team up to prank people just because why not? Joking around a lot, people may not take you seriously, but in reality you’re smart and high intellectuals. You’re just unique in everything, to the point that only you can get each other.

Gojo likes to annoy you, using your height to tease you. Always making playful remarks. He finds amusement in resting his arm on top of your head, playfully putting all of his weight just to see you struggle.

“you know babe, you’re the perfect height for a napkin holder!” .

“They say good things come in small packages, but I guess great things come in tiny ones…just like you hehe”.

Would you get offended? Absolutely not! You always come up with the best comebacks. And once you start teasing each other, the cycle never ends.

“Oh yeah? You think I’m too short? Well I guess you’re just too tall! I’m pretty sure you were a giraffe in your past life, you even got the long neck to match!”

“you’re like a human ladder, I won’t find a difficulty changing my lamps”.

This kind of jokesstrengthens your relationship, Gojo loves loves it when you don’t hold back and just make fun of him,  when you match his energy and vibe. Even during arguments, you never stop being playful, he mischievously places your belongings on higher shelves so he’d watch you struggle to reach them or so you can ask him from help. But of course as an ENTP you’re independent and kind of self-centered so it would be an insult to you if you ask for help. So he always ends up laughing while watching you tiptoeing or  getting on the counter to get to that shelf.  

“Really? Tiptoeing? You wouldn’t even reach my knees” .

He’d willingly get you what you want even though you defiantly told him that you can handle it yourself. Your bickering sets everyone off the edge, except for you. People around you might think  you hate each other since you’re getting to each other’s throat but in reality it’s just a simple small argument, ENTPs just love the drama.

Beyond the mean jokes and the heart crushing teasing, you truly appreciate each other’s heights. He finds you extremely cute, he loves the height gap and given Gojo’s personality it makes him feel very protective over you.

“Your height only adds to your charm and uniqueness..making you even more captivating and attractive in my eyes.” .

In return, of course you love his height too. Whenever you burry your head in his chest, you can actually listen to his heartbeat, and you find it really soothing, his huge form makes you feel safe and warm, he’s like a human teddy bear. His embrace is your favorite hideout and his big arms are your shields.

“I feel so secure when I’m with you. Your height makes me feel safe…. It adds to your charisma” .

ENTPs feed on compliments; it boosts your self-confidence to the top. After making fun of each other, you always make sure to reassure each other and show your love and admiration. You actually find joy in each other’s  size difference, both of you are like the same person but in different shapes, what’s more fun than that?!

"I love how perfectly we fit together, like two puzzle pieces destined to complement each other."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru one shot #gojo oneshot #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk funny #jjk men #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x y/n #jjk headcanons #gojo satoru #gojo fic #gojo fanfic

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eleven: i am always running back to you | read chapter ten

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.7k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: SO SORRY.... it was the horrors (midterms). hope this chapter makes up for it because boy it is a lot of fun

The rest of the evening passes slowly.

It does nothing for your nerves, truthfully, but you keep yourself preoccupied with Wade. He crawls now and that leaves him wanting to explore every space possible. So, while Wally runs out for dinner and Linda wraps up a meeting with her editor, you watch over him and make sure he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.

Dinner is deep-dish pizza—directly from Chicago. It’s all very indulgent, the way Wally can do things like that; he spoils you in that regard and you tell him as much as you wash dishes and he puts them away.

“Nah, it’s nothing,” he says, shooting you a small smile. “Besides, it’s for me, too.”

And you can tell that’s true by the four empty boxes of pizza that he ate, with two for you and Linda. 

But still. When he leaves…

It’s not just that that you’re going to miss. With or without the speed, you’re going to miss him. Him, Linda, and little Wade.

Despite not saying that—because you don’t want to be a downer, because their home is in Keystone City, not here, and you don’t want to be selfish like that—he senses the shift in your mood.

“You know,” he starts, “me and Lin were thinking…”

“That’s never good.”

He nudges you gently, grinning. You shake your head, smiling, too. You pass him a freshly-washed plate and he dries it. 

“Well, wait until you hear what we were thinking about.”

“What?”

“We think you should visit us every now and then.”

The thought that they want you around is warming, as usual. But…

“I mean, I would love to, Wally, but I can’t really afford that… Maybe, after I see how everything adds up during the fall, I can come for the holidays or something. But…”

He shakes his head. “Come on, kiddo. You think we’d say that and leave it up to you?”

“I don’t expect—”

“I know. But you should. We want to do whatever we can to see you. You aren’t the only one that’s going to miss something when we leave, you know. That’s why we’re doing this. Besides,” he grins at you, lightening up. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I can get you to Keystone in under a minute right now.”

Considering that Linda has told you that his speed is efficient but leaves one with a horrible bout of nausea and vertigo—at least in the beginning; she’s barely affected these days—you feel some mild apprehension.

But those things are temporary. You can withstand that, if only to see them again.

“Or,” he goes on, “we can fly you out, but that would honestly be pretty cumbersome and would also take too long.”

“It’s a plane, Wally. That is the fastest form of transportation we have in this country.”

He sniffs. “I’m the fastest form of transportation we have in this country. In the world! One of them, anyway.”

“Well, that’s how we normal human beings function. Not everyone can run faster than the speed of light.” 

“Not everyone should,” he agrees. “I’d lose my appeal. That would suck.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So, is that a yes or—?”

“Alright,” you relent, smiling. “How often are we talking?”

He smiles a tad bashfully. “Once or twice a month? You can come on the weekends… Just—you know. I know you’re gonna be busy with classes but…”

“It sounds like I should be getting a nice break every month if we do that. I mean, I can’t promise I won’t have work—”

“Just as long as you’re around, kid. That’s all we want.”

Your face warms at the earnestness in his words, embarrassed, though you know you really shouldn’t be. “Wally.”

“Hey, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been in this game too long to try and dance around feelings. Hopefully your boy will learn that, too.”

“You aren’t wrong,” you mutter, shutting off the water and drying your hands, making a mental reminder to put on some lotion before they get annoyingly dry from the hot water and dish soap. “I’m just not… used to that.”

He shrugs, tossing his dish towel over his shoulder. “Like I said. In a world like ours… it’s important.”

You don’t disagree. But you can’t rail too hard on Tim. Questionable decisions regarding his feelings aside, the both of you only came to your senses after he had a close-call today. What does that say about you, that he has to nearly die for you to realize you need to see him again? Need to clear the air? 

It’s human, you think. So very terribly human of you.

It’s not like you’re unappreciative of him in your life but… you know this dance and song. You only realize what you have when you lose it. Look at your parents. You’ve slipped right now but you’ll fix it. You’ll make sure he knows how much he means to you.

But more importantly, right now…

“You guys… mean a lot to me, too.” You turn, seeing Linda pause near the island, and meet her brown eyes and even though it makes your face hot and the words get stuck in your throat, you force them out, underpinned with what you hope they can tell is sincerity. “You do. So much.”

Your throat tightens and you duck your head as your eyes burn. 

Hard to quantify. Hard to put a label on what they mean to you.

But you know that much. That they mean the world to you. 

Warm, strong arms come around you, squeezing you tight. You sniffle when you feel Linda come up behind you, squeezing you, too.

It’s an emotional day, you decide. For all of you. 

So, you take a long shower to try and pull yourself together, then head to bed, bidding Wally and Linda goodnight.

You don’t intend to fall asleep when you crawl into your bed. It’s better to stay up, to wait for Tim to get here. But the day’s events start weighing down on you as you curl up beneath the blankets.

You try valiantly to stay awake by scrolling on your phone but it’s a Sisyphean task to do so. As your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you know it will be a task that you fail as you stop fighting and give in to sleep.

It’s only the vibration of your phone that rouses you. 

Groping for it, the display is obscenely bright in the darkness of your room. But the text waiting for you is unmistakable, impossible to miss.

i’m here

Suddenly recalling what you and Tim had agreed upon, you shoot up in bed, ignoring the head rush the action gives you. 

The window that leads out to the fire escape is right next to your bed, covered by curtains. You toss your phone aside, rolling out of the warm cocoon of blankets; the AC in this place works well, a little too well, you think groggily as your bare feet connect with cold wood floors. 

You shove aside the curtains and though you know who is waiting for you, that it is Tim, just Tim, your best friend, the still-not-fully-awake part of you clenches up in fear, thinking it might be Batman that is moving in the shadows, only barely illuminated by the full moon. But you know better than that.

It helps that your eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, recognizing the figure crouched in your fire escape. Dressed in… oddly enough, sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. Completed with a plain black domino mask—not the usual one he wears, more akin to Robin, save for the color—that obscures the blue eyes you know and love.

You reach for the window. Well-oiled and taken care of by the owners, it is virtually silent as it slides open. 

Muggy July heat rushes in, chasing away the cold.

Without the window and with your vision quickly clearing from bleariness, you can really take him in. The tension in his body, the way a breeze ruffles through dark hair, the twitch of his hands to you before they clench into fists. Waiting. 

For you. 

Your throat thickens painfully when your eyes snag on the white gauze taped to the left side of his neck. 

Just a graze, Steph told you. But he lost a bit of blood anyway and his neck… if it had been the right side, would he not be here right now? Maybe it doesn’t matter. It’s his neck, there are so many important arteries running through there. 

If anything else had happened, if he’d moved even a little bit, he wouldn’t be here.

That realization, coupled with the overwhelming emotions at seeing him again since everything, pushes you over the edge.

Your eyes burn with tears. You reach forward, ignoring the soreness in your belly, one hand grabbing his wrist and tugging him right into the circle of your arms. 

That breaks the stalemate. He goes quickly, arms sliding around you as the first of your tears start sliding down your cheeks.

“Tim…”

He holds you tighter, impossibly warm, letting out a shuddery breath and whispering your name, too, everything inside you shivering at the sound, at the warmth that wraps up the syllables of your name. 

“I’m okay,” he breathes. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“You were shot.”

An exhale of a laugh. It sounds shaky with emotion.

“Technically, I was grazed.”

“Tim.”

He presses his nose to your hair, hand stroking up your back.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, lips brushing your forehead. “I wasn’t going to die before I got to see you. No way.”

You sniffle. The two of you are quiet, speaking lowly, but you’re suddenly too aware of the other window on the fire escape, the one for Linda and Wally’s room. You don’t want to wake them—or god forbid, Wade—so you reluctantly extract yourself from his arms, tugging him again.

He follows easily, sliding through the window with a grace you aren’t used to. He shuts the window silently behind him, banishing the muggy air that had leaked inside. You wipe away your tears, attempting to piece yourself together. 

As he turns back to you, hesitantly now, the air conditioner clicks on, and a second later, cold air starts blowing into your room. It should help cover your voices a little bit.

For a moment, it is silent. 

Tim shifts on his feet across from you. The domino mask renders him impervious. Impossible to read without seeing his eyes.

But not totally impossible. The way he bites his lip doesn’t just draw your attention to his mouth, tempting, traitorous thoughts briefly crossing your mind, but it also clues you into his nervous state. 

“I’m sorry.”

He speaks first, blurting the words out, seeming almost surprised at the way they escaped him before he decides to go with it, doubling down on it.

Taking a deep breath, he looks at you, whispering your name. “I’m sorry. For lying to you. For coming to you as Red Robin instead of myself. For everything. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know.”

You were in that position, too. You didn’t fuck it up this badly but… you each had your parts to play. No one is blameless here.

“I just,” he stops, looking away, hands clenching at his sides. “I want to be friends. If anything else. I want that.”

If anything else.

You understand what he is saying here.

He isn’t here under any pretenses. Isn’t expecting you to take him in with open arms. Would be fine as friends.

Well, you don’t want that.

“Tim.” 

He looks at you. You extend a hand. Waiting. Not demanding.

Slowly, he comes to you. Palm sliding against yours. Warm and a little clammy, calloused but still soft. 

A few inches of space separate you when he stops. 

This close, you can feel the heat of him. Smell his shampoo, soft and fragrant. Eucalyptus. 

You squeeze his hand once then let go. 

He and Red Robin are two sides of the same coin. There is no Tim Drake without Red Robin, you think. Not right now. 

Maybe it’ll change, down the line. One part of you selfishly hopes so.

You’ll always want him. But as Red Robin, the risk of losing him triples and you are greedy enough to want to mitigate it. The same with Steph. Even with Wally, who is considerably more durable. All of them, duty-bound, honor-bound. You cannot ask that of them. 

Right now, though, you think you can make that demand. At least temporarily.

You reach for him. Pausing when your hands near his face. But he doesn’t move. Just looks down at you and you wonder if he can hear your heart, with how hard, how loudly, it pounds in your chest.

You have to be certain.

So, when your fingers finally touch the smooth material of the mask, before trying to lift it, you ask, in a whisper, “Can I?”

“Yes,” he breathes, some emotion you don’t know underlying his voice, one that makes your face warm and your heart skip a beat.

Your fingers find the edge, slowly, gently peeling it up. It peels and peels and peels until finally, it detaches into your hands. Almost flimsy now but with a certain weight. 

That’s not what retains your attention, though.

It’s him. It’s always him.

Tim’s eyes are closed, the tiniest of wrinkles found between his brows.

You imagine what it must be like to him. Letting you do that. Peel back the final layer of him once and for all. Letting you see him. Tim. Your Tim.

Keeping the domino mask loosely grasped in one hand, your other reaches for him, your thumb finding the wrinkle between his brows. It smooths out instantly at your touch and his eyes flutter open.

There they are.

It’s a shade of blue that haunts your dreams most nights.

Usually a lighter, softer color in the light, something like cornflowers, but right now, they’re midnight sky blue, looking at you with a heavy kind of affection, warm and unbridled. 

Your hand settles on his cheek. He leans into the touch. Your thumb strokes over the sensitive skin under his eye. Where dark circles mar the skin, exhaustion finally clear in his face.

You smile sadly. “You look tired, Timmy.”

“Last couple weeks,” he swallows, “have been… rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

He smiles. It’s a small thing but no less beautiful to your eyes. 

Then he sobers up, gazing at you, pained. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“I was an idiot.”

“I know.” You take a deep breath. “We both were.”

He opens his mouth to protest but you speak before he can. 

“It’s true. You know that. We didn’t handle this like we should but it’s… it’s in the past. We can’t change it. We just have to move forward.”

A slow nod, then his eyes flicker to your hand, still between you two, still holding onto the domino mask. He takes it from you. 

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not for him to toss it away, landing somewhere in the darkness, a near silent sound. 

“Tim—“

“It’ll never come between us again,” he whispers and your breath catches at his words; his hands find yours, pulling the one on his cheek into his own, squeezing. “I promise.”

You take a second to compose yourself, letting out a slow breath.

“I believe you,” you finally say. “And… no more lies. Please. Tell me the truth. The whole truth. I want to be there for you, for all of it.”

“It’s going to hurt.” 

Not a protest. Just a statement. A warning. 

“So, it’s even more important for me to be there.”

He swallows, eyes searching yours. “Are you… are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“So… we’re okay?”

“No.”

His face falls. “Whatever it is… I’ll make it up to you. I swear. Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

“You have me,” he promises. 

“Not like that.”

He stiffens up, breath catching as he understands what you mean. He looks down at you, shock clear. Understanding but not truly believing. That won’t do.

“I love you, Tim. Not just as a friend but…”

You’ve said it to them both. I love you. And this ‘I love you’ isn’t better than the one you tell Steph, than the one you told him for the first time, back when your feelings were still strictly platonic. It doesn’t mean something more, something deeper, something elevated just because it’s romantic. But it’s different. In what you want. In what you long for. 

He whispers your name. 

You let out a slow breath. “And if you want that, too, then…”

“Of course I do,” he breathes, letting go of your hands to cup your face, bringing you closer. “Of course I do. There’s nothing else, no one else, I want. I just… I never wanted to assume.”

“I know.”

“But if you’re on board then… then we can try it out.”

It feels more like ‘trying it out,’ though. Despite the uncertainty, the whirlwind of emotions, everything that has happened, finally talking it out, finally laying everything out on the table… you’ve found solid ground. A foundation you can build upon. 

It is no mere crush. No simple infatuation.

You are in love with Tim Drake. Plain and simple.

And he is in love with you, too.

You close your eyes, fingers curling around his wrists. After a beat, he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you, too, you know,” he whispers. “I have for a long time.”

Your face is hot, flushed with heat, your heart pounding. You feel so light, like you might fall up, untethered by gravity and floaty from the cotton candy-sweet warmth unspooling in your chest, clogging your veins and the arteries of your heart. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go. 

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

He kisses you.

Gently at first, tenderly, lips warm, soft, tasting faintly of spearmint. You feel like you might melt into a puddle of goo at it, at knowing it’s Tim who is kissing you so sweetly, making your knees feel a little weak.

You shuffle closer. He inhales sharply at you pressing into his space, curling around you to close the final bits of distance. It turns the kiss a little fevered, a little hungry, a little desperate.

You’ve missed him so much. You can’t stop yourself from whispering that, pulling away to do so.

He shudders at your words, lips pressing to your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, and you open yourself up to him, too willing, too happy to let him have you like this.

He keeps saying it. Whatever you want. But he can have whatever he wants from you, too. Anything. Everything.

“I love you,” he breathes against your neck and your breath catches at the reverence in his voice. “Can you—can you say it again?”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper and it pulls another shiver from him, lips pressing to your fluttering pulse and your knees really feel like they might give out. 

Your fingers grasp the material of his jacket, tugging, and he brings his lips back to yours, giving you a mind-numbing, synapse-slowing kiss. 

You separate eventually, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath.

“Will you stay?” you ask softly.

“I’ll stay,” he promises, leaning back to press a heartachingly tender kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, holding onto him.

After a moment, he pulls away, shedding his jacket, draping it over the footboard. You close the curtains over your window, then crawl into bed. When Tim comes over, he tries to push you over. Not hard. A gentle—persistent—nudge to your shoulder, keeping in mind your injury, though you should tell him that it’s healing much better at nearly three weeks since it happened. Enough so that Steph said she could see about Crystal coming over to take the stitches out, just to avoid waiting at the hospital, and the bill, too. 

“Oh, hey—”

“Let me sleep there,” he urges. “I feel better if you’re furthest from the window.”

“Hero types, I swear.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he leans down and scoops you into his arms. You yelp and he shushes you. You can’t stop your giggles as he unceremoniously drops you on the other side of the bed, the one closest to the door. He crawls in after you.

“You’re going to wake them up,” he whispers but he’s grinning, too, as he slides under the covers, laying on his side.

“Who’s fault is that?” you shoot back. “Just ‘cause you and your savior complex need to be by the window—”

He muffles his snickers into the pillow, eyes closed, lips spread in a grin. Your chest warms and you wiggle closer to him. 

Tim lifts an arm so you can settle against his side. Wary of the gauze on the hollow of his throat, you settle for tucking your head underneath his chin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He strokes a hand down your back, a warm brand between your shoulder blades. Sleep isn’t far off your conscience, right at the edges of it, and with the warmth of his body and the reassurance of his embrace, you’re moving fast to it.

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll… you’ll be here in the morning, right?”

His arm tightens around you. You feel him press a kiss to your hair.

“I’ll be here. I promise.”

And he is. 

When you rouse an indeterminate amount of time later, awakened by the sounds of activity outside your door—Wade’s high-pitched giggles, Wally’s low murmurs to him as he feeds him breakfast, the water running in the pipes as Linda uses the bathroom—Tim is still there. With you.

Deep in sleep, still, even with the slivers of light that come in from your window and the noises coming in from outside. Probably the repercussions of his ‘rough couple weeks.’ It’s quite similar with you, if you’re being honest. Besides, you hardly mind, basking in the feel of your legs tangled together underneath the blankets, the heavy but reassuring weight of his arm around you.

You manage to pull away a little bit to look at him, blinking out the bleariness in your eyes as you rest your head on the pillow, his face a couple inches from yours. Eyes shut, dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, breathing soft and slow. His hair is a mess, some parts of it flat from the pillow and sticking up in other areas. You spy a few creases from the pillow on his cheek, too. But even with that, he is still so beautiful to you.

You sigh, snuggling closer to him, shifting so you can run your fingers through his hair, your eyes falling shut again. You can stand to sleep a little while longer.

He lets out a soft, contented sigh as your fingers glide through his hair, gently taking out tangles as you go. 

You pull away after a moment, feeling sleep lapping at your senses again. 

You doze for a little while, rousing again to more noise from outside. The sound of the TV. Wally and Linda murmuring to each other. Wade giggling. 

Tim shifts, groaning quietly. The sound, rough with sleep, makes something inside you clench, sparks of heat waking you up more fully so you can watch him wake up, too.

He rolls onto his back, stretching, then sagging into the mattress. You stay curled up on your side, your calf thrown over his, watching him wake up with a small smile on your lips that you know must be horribly lovesick.

Finally, he turns to look at you, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi.”

He gives you a sleepy smile. “Hi. Watching me sleep? Weirdo.”

He still has pillow creases on his face. You reach up to trace them.

“Well, you like this weirdo.”

“I love this weirdo,” he corrects. “Guess it’s fair, considering my night job.”

“Right. Watching you sleep—which I wasn’t, by the way, I was just waiting for you to wake up—”

“Sounds an awful lot like watching me sleep—”

You grin and pinch his cheek. He grunts, halfheartedly batting your hand away and taking it in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Anyway. That’s not that big of an offense compared to, oh, I don’t know, dressing up and fighting crime each night.”

“Think that’s part of the whole ‘we love each other thing,’” he teases.

You smile. “I guess so.”

“So, then…” His eyes stray from your face, to something else, nerves clear as day; too early in the morning for him to make a solid attempt at hiding them from you and well. You know him. For better and for worse.

“Mmhm?”

“I guess I should take you on a date.”

“You guess?”

He blushes, red settling high in his cheeks in a way that is… decidedly tempting. “I mean I should. If—if you want to, of course.”

“I didn’t kiss you just for kicks, you know.”

“I sure hope not,” he agrees, looking back at you, face softening. “Will you, then?”

“Of course, Timmy.”

“And maybe…” He turns, reaching for you. You go easily, your fingers still tracing the pillow creases on his cheek. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders as he turns onto his side. In the warm light of the morning, his eyes are a softer shade of blue, the one you know and love. 

“Maybe…?”

“Maybe… you’ll give me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

Oh, geez.

Your face flares with heat, heart skipping a beat.

“You cornball.”

“You love it.”

Your palm finally settles on his cheek—hot to the touch, too, flush still lingering behind. You lean forward to press your lips to his forehead. He lets out a shuddery breath, arm tightening around you briefly.

“Yes, Tim,” you murmur against his skin. “I would be happy to.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, but it doesn’t like he’s thanking you for agreeing to it—at least, not just that. 

Maybe for everything. 

But— “You don’t have to thank me. It’s not… I love you. That’s all there is and that’s all there ever will be.”

You pull back, thumb stroking over his cheek. He leans forward, lips pressing gently to your cheek. Your fingers find their way into his hair, sighing contentedly as he kisses down to your jaw. 

You get so caught up in that, the knock on your door scares the shit out of you both.

Wally calls out your name. “You up, kiddo? Lin’s makin’ eggs and rice.”

Tim pulls away quickly and you sit up, your face hot.

“I’ll, um, be out in a few.” Your voice is steady, thankfully, but you can’t say much about your pulse, your heart beating out of your chest. Tim is sitting up, too, looking around the room—presumably for the mask he discarded last night. 

“Okay,” Wally says. “Will Tim be joining us?”

You both freeze. 

You should’ve known better, really. Wally’s been doing this for a long time. Nothing much will slip by him. Not unless he lets it. 

Tim turns an impressive shade of red. Tempting, like it always is, but mostly, you just feel like a teenager caught red-handed with her boyfriend.

…Which isn’t too incorrect of a description.

You look at him, lost. 

He clears his throat, raising his voice to respond. “I—uh, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” Wally responds cheerfully. “Hope you aren’t allergic to sesame because I don’t care and I’m not going out to get something different for you.”

“Wally!”

Tim smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not allergic.”

“Too bad,” he says. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Footsteps leave. Wally hums to himself loudly, happily. 

You and Tim look at each other for a second before a giggle escapes you. Then another. He joins you in the next second, until you two are laughing loudly, listing into each other and flopping onto the bed.

In the kitchen, even from here, you can hear Wally and Linda laughing, too.

You grin breathlessly, looking at Tim’s smiling face, and decide the embarrassment of getting caught out is worth it, if you get to have this. All of them. 

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

God the idea of Simon having a s/o that's like wayyy shorter than him something like 5'5 is doing things to me. This man is 6'4 something and he's HUGEEE AF, like i think it would be a turn on for him, having his babe so small underneath him. And i don't even need to get into how probably big he is down there too? The struggle to take him in everytime but the afterwards is a pure bliss. Ugh.

Like, i agree with what you said, this man is an epitome of masculinity. And the need and want to take care, love and protect his mate. <3 <3

Mmm. Mmmm.

Ok I'm just gonna leave this here.

Original photo: @ S0CIALHUNTER on Twitter

This is not a Drill

Word count: 2.2 k

Tags/warnings: SMUT 🔞, a dash of fluff, size kink (obviously), size difference, swearing, premature ejaculation, penetrative sex toy. F!Reader.

A/N: Gaahh. No poetry this time. Just pure filth. Enjoy 🍽

This might just be one of your better ideas.

You've done this in secret for two weeks now, hoping by the time he arrives, you'll be able to surprise him with how well you've trained yourself to receive him.

If you can take a large toy so well, day after day, it should help with taking him in more easily too. Right?

As in, take in the biggest dick you've ever had and, god willing, will ever have.

You're actually quite proud of yourself. Not only does this thing keep you juicy, but it also makes you thirst for him even more. The need to have something even bigger inside you, the knowledge that he can provide that bigger thing, makes your lips purse, makes your walls throb as you remind yourself that tomorrow, your man will finally come home.

…Except that the stealthy fucker has chosen to arrive a day early. You don't even hear him before he's at your bedroom door. Fuck his profession, fuck all that experience in sneaking around, even with all that mass…

He comes in just in time to see how the said dong comes out, slick with your wetness.

Oh shit–

"Well. What do we have here?"

He looks at the brutal object in your hand, then raises his eyes to you – flustered you, lying all naked and throbbing and flushed on the bed. He can barely hold back a smile, but it's his eyes that laugh with an amused gleam.

"Careful or you'll hurt yourself with that thing."

That's some cheese coming from someone who's even bigger than the crude thing in your hand…

"You said you'd come tomorrow," you mewl as your excuse. He cocks his head a little, raises an eyebrow.

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not, but–"

"You want help with that?"

He gives a side eye to the toy still in your hand. You blink a few times, then reach to set it somewhere, anywhere – the bedside table has to do, but you're too clumsy, and the toy drops to the floor and rolls at his feet.

Jesus, could things get any more embarrassing?

He examines the sorry thing with a stare that says How pathetic. Because even if to you, it's gigantic, it's nothing compared to what he's got in those pants. And he knows it too.

"Now ain't this convenient. I can go straight in, right?"

"I– I'm not sure," you breathe with anticipation.

"Let's give it a try then."

He doesn't even wait for your admission, which would only be a blaring, blazing Yes please sir. He doesn't trouble himself with undressing, merely crawls to the bed and over you.

He pulls back only to get himself out of those jeans, and it always looks like he's drawing out a massive weapon. Even in his hands, which are fucking huge, the cock looks like an oversized beast. He's fully hard, too, probably started to gather blood there the minute he saw you on that bed, puny and shy and caught red-handed.

And he's as impatient as can be: finally, there's a chance he can drive that cock right in, that he doesn't have to warm you up for half an hour with mouth and fingers and hear you cry when it still takes a few tears and some swearing as he guides it inside.

But the toys are no help, it seems. The massive head of his cock disappears in you, alright… But that doesn't mean it feels safe or sound.

"Oh, no. No, no."

He halts, hovering over you with just the tip inside, pulsing wildly.

"No?"

Ugh, why did you have to pick the biggest colossus of a man to be your fuck buddy for the rest of your life?

"Just… slowly, ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

He swallows and gets back to it, more slowly this time, and the spread is delicious – but it's also blinding, and you always have to remind yourself to keep breathing.

You just need to relax; it can fit, it has been there dozens of times before…

"Fuck, you're– you're even tighter down here," he groans with a dry throat and a heavy accent that makes you instantly clench around him.

It appears that you have only managed to train your inner muscles with that ridiculous dildo.

So much for trying to coax yourself open with toys…

He feeds more of that thickness in, in, in, until his balls make contact; they press against your flesh while your pussy hugs him with a perfect O shape. You bite your lip and hold your breath, and you're not the only one gaping at the scene in mild shock and admiration.

"Look at that…"

He doesn't even bother to tone down the drunken arousal in his voice which always drops down a few notes when he's fucking you. But every now and then, it's tinged with concern. How the hell can you even take him fully in?

He glances your way with the smallest smile playing at the corner of his mouth, muscles taut with anticipation. The man simply can't wait to ruin you.

"You ready?"

No…??

You give him a frail little nod and some high-pitched, broken whimpers from your mouth.

"Uh-huh?"

He chuckles, then withdraws, slowly… But the next thrust is not that gentle, and your brows knit together in pleasure and pain. Well, it's not exactly pain, just… It's a little too much. If the angle was even slightly off, it would hurt. The wetness no doubt helps this business, but you still find your teeth sinking into your lower lip again – he starts to roll his hips, fuck you with experimental thrusts that, blessedly, don't plunge too deep.

You feel your inner walls both accommodate him and tighten around him; greedy, like it's no problem at all to have far too big a shaft stuffed down there. And not just crammed, but plowing: back and forth like you're a toy, too.

"What in the bloody hell have you been doing…"

He detects the tense muscles that pull him in every time he reaches the base. You're too small for him; that fact was established long ago. But added with the clenching and throbbing pulse of your cunt, a fervor that tries to suck him like he's a fat stick of candy cane makes his jaw gradually fall open. The man looks like he's going to pass out.

"Were you doing that shit for me?"

You smile and flutter your lashes innocently, all the while a giant is trying to work his giant cock in you.

"Yup. Welcome home, I guess?"

He looks at you, not with mirth, but with reproof. You're playing with fire, toying with a sharp blade, and teasing a man of his size might not be the best of your ideas.

But that's exactly what you are; a goddamn tease. You just can't help it. You know he gets an equal kick out of this setting: of you being so small. Anyone is small compared to him, but you're small compared to anyone. Next to him–not to talk under him–you look like a helpless doll.

And perhaps that's what this is all about: perhaps one of these days, you want him to wreck you.

Use you.

Even the very thought makes your cunt wrap around him again. Massive thighs at least twice the size of yours force your legs wide apart as he goes deeper – so deep that you can feel those balls again, hefty slaps against you as he tries to bury himself inside a place he's not meant to fit.

You always wonder what you look like under him, disappearing entirely under a dark shadow and hundreds of pounds of muscle. Spreading your thighs to offer too tight a slit to what's practically a monster. It must always be forced inside with sweat, patience, and needy grunts. How insane it must look for that thing to disappear inside you again and again until you're loaded with him… His cum never stays inside before you reach the shower, but the feel of it running down your thighs is absolutely glorious.

You notice he slows down the pace, which is odd. Normally, he's fucking you with abandon at this point.

"What's wrong?"

He huffs above you, chest swelling with shallow, alarmed breaths.

"Wrong? What's right, more like…"

He resumes with a thrust or two, looks down to where you are joined, and lets out an aggravated groan.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" He draws back as if to pull out completely, and you whine a complaint. A decision is made right away; he sinks back inside, fills you again and again, until…

"I think I'm gonna cum," he informs with apologetic alarm.

Oh.. Right.

… Already?

"It's ok… it's ok," you sweep your hands up his back, clutch him to make it known that he can collapse like a tower upon you, and you would only feel enthusiastic about getting buried under the rubble.

Use me.

Just fucking take me.

The look on his face is a rare glimpse behind the walls of a remorseless soldier: something primal but vulnerable, something fragile that only you are allowed to see.

"You can use me," you whisper, and it's like a spell that calls upon disaster.

"Ah, Christ…"

It takes only a split-second before he accepts your offer in full. You're planted in the mattress with starved thrusts, his thighs and chest spread you open until he's drilling you in an almost 90 degree angle. You're concerned for the bed's capacity to take this sort of plowing when you should perhaps worry more about your poor abused pussy.

It's such a heaven that your jaw falls open, too. You're dreamy and helpless under him while he's far from feeble. He looks like thunder above you, especially when you're looking at him like he's a demigod.

Like you're in love.

Which you are… And he knows it, even without that adoring bimbo stare you give him.

"Gonna–cum. Fuck, I'm gonna–"

You can almost see the sweat breaking, can feel the cock inside you jolting even when there's no room for it to do such a thing.

"Fuck–! "

It swells inside you as he cums with a painful groan. The orgasm seems to just last and last, and you realize with horror and thrill that the guy hasn't had a wank in days. Work has been a bitch, then, and you get to pay for it – a punishment you suffer with glee.

He gives you his all, squeezing you between arms that feel like a too tight cage, crushing you with a chest that feels like a compression machine burying you under an iron weight. Hard thighs press against yours until you're spread open for him to be buried in to the hilt.

And you know it gives him hell that he finished before you: it's on par with a failed mission, you suppose. Your mission, however, was a success. The body around and over you is coiled tight, but the tension gradually leaves. Obviously it makes him feel even more heavy.

He finally goes slack against you, just like you wished, and you almost squeal while getting imprisoned by a heap of heaving muscles. He's catching both breath and the remains of his pride as he lies there on top of you. The cock inside gives an occasional pulse, but you're forever hungry.

This man should be illegal…

You know you won't be left stranded for long, and seeing him so utterly done gives you enough satisfaction for now. You can wait for him to finish you in other ways.

"You're fucking dangerous," he huffs in your ear while trying not to crush you completely with his weight. He's gathering his strength in the solace of your neck, and you smile like you're on drugs.

"Does that mean you like me..?"

"What do you think," he snorts humorlessly on your skin, but you know he's more than happy. "'Welcome home'... Bloody hell, woman."

"I'm glad you're here," you laugh and place a hand on that broad back to caress him gently.

"Yeah. You can keep that toy."

"Perhaps I'll finish myself with it," you chirp to annoy him a bit more. Another triumph: you have to suppress a laugh upon hearing him groan.

"Now give me a bloody minute…"

Poor man. The thought that you feel just too fucking good to him, so good that it makes him lose control, gives you such a high that it's just sinful. The thought that a stoic goliath like him is rendered weak on top of a small, harmless woman is more intoxicating than a wine glass filled to the brim.

You pet the back of his neck and know he's probably tired from work and wants to sleep. You wouldn't object to falling asleep too while he's holding you.

"How about we give it another try after a nap?"

Your offer makes him rumble softly, contently; the man's ready to drop but also thoroughly enamored. Your heart skips a beat from pure happiness.

"Mm. You always have the best ideas."

#ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #mw2 smut

[namiusedbubble]

SFW Alphabet - Sebastian Sallow

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very. Sebastian is definitely the type to express his love through physical touch. He likes resting his head on your lap when the two of you read, but he also enjoys holding you in his lap, too.

B = Broom (Are they good at flying? Do they play Quidditch?)

Sebastian is one of the best flyers in Slytherin, but he doesn’t play Quidditch. Despite Imelda pestering him to join the team for years, he is much more interested in books and dueling. He is a substitute for the house team, but he only agreed to get Imelda off his back.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves to cuddle. I mentioned it before but he loves laying in your lip and vice versa. There’s nothing more relaxing than having your fingers comb through his hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Not right now, but he will eventually want to settle down if that’s something you want. Sebastian would be terrible at cooking and cleaning, but he’ll learn all of the domestic spells so neither of you will have to worry about it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would take a lot for him to get to that point, and he certainly won’t be the self-sacrificing type who will do it “for your own good”. There has to be a serious incompatibility or betrayal before he even considers it. Because his decision is logical to him, it can come off as quite cold and unfeeling, even though he probably spent a lot of time crying alone before finally breaking up with you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Once Sebastian knows he loves you, he knows he wants to marry you. You’ve both already seen each other at your absolute worsts and got through it together, he figures there can’t be much left that could get in the way of your relationship. He won’t ask you until you’ve finished school, of course, but it won’t be long after that. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He can be, but he’s usually not. He knows you’re not made of paper, so he has no problem manhandling you. Verbally, he’s not gentle, either. Sebastian speaks his mind bluntly because he doesn’t have time to beat around the bush. This can lead to him saying the wrong thing every now and again, but he usually means well.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesn’t often full-on hug you, but when he does, it’s usually from behind. He’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you into his chest and rest his head against yours. His hugs are comforting and make you feel safe and secure.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think Sebastian says it fairly early on. He falls hard and fast, so it won’t be long until he’s dropping the L-word.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Sebastian can become quite jealous. He trusts you, it’s everyone else he doesn’t trust, so he won’t pick a fight with you about it or anything, but when he’s jealous he can become very pouty. He’ll also insert himself into the situations making him feel that way, so if you’re talking to another guy he knows has a crush on you, he’s going to force himself into the conversation and make an excuse to pull you away for himself.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Intense. He likes cute, loving pecks on the cheek as much as the next person, but he loves intense make-out sessions much more. He always kisses you like it’s the first and last time, as if he’s savouring every moment he has with you. His favourite place to kiss you is on the lips, but he’ll turn into mush if you kiss him just below his ear.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s surprisingly good with children. They respect him and enjoy his company because he treats them like little adults. He doesn’t speak down to them or dismiss them because of their age, and he now despises people who believe children should stay out of sight.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Usually lazy. He likes to sleep in as late as possible with you, and he has a habit of “locking” you against his chest so you can’t get up before him. He’s really cuddly in the mornings, and his excessive kisses have caused you to be late to appointments on multiple occasions. Not that you’re complaining.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Sebastian is a night owl, so he’s usually up late reading. He would love if you could join him, but if not, he’ll lay with you in bed until you fall asleep and then go about his business until the early morning.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You know the answer to this. Sebastian Sallow has no filter around you, and he never will. He’s telling you his and everyone else’s life story the minute you finish kicking his ass in DADA, and that openness will continue throughout your relationship. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Not very easily. He can get snippy and argumentative, but it takes a lot to truly anger him. But once he’s angry, you’ll know about it. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Sebastian isn’t the worst, but he could be better. He’ll remember everything he thinks is important to either you or your relationship, but he’s not going to remember the name of your childhood dog unless that’s something you frequently mention. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

There are a lot of moments he cherishes, but his favourite is still the first time you invited him to Hogsmeade and took down a troll together. Not only was it the first time you dueled side-by-side to protect the village, but he also considers it your first, unofficial date.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Extremely protective. Sebastian has lost almost everyone in his life to tragedy, and he doesn’t want to lose you, too. He’s not overbearing or controlling, but he will push you behind him during a fight, insist on accompanying you on tasks, and make sure you get the rest you need when he feels like you’re overworking yourself. He knows you’re the type to stumble into dangerous situations for a good deed, he fell in love with that part of you so he won’t try to change it, but you won’t have to do it alone anymore.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts 100% into everything he does, so there’ll be no half-measures with him. He’ll try to make every date feel like your first date all over again, every anniversary will be more romantic than the last, etc. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Once Sebastian has set his mind to something, you’re not talking him down from it. He doesn’t care how stupid, dangerous, inconvenient, etc. it might be, he’s already thought about the risks and is willing to take them. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

It depends. He’s not overly concerned in his day-to-day life, and he doesn’t mind becoming disheveled and dirty from dueling or flying, but he cleans up well when he wants to.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. You have been through so much with Sebastian, and you’re pretty much the only one who has stuck by him through thick and thin. He only really feels “whole” when he’s with you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Sebastian might be a flirt, but he’s not a player. You’re his first everything and you’ll be his only everything if he has anything to say about it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Disloyalty. Sebastian is one of the most loyal people you will ever meet, and he expects the same in return. You don’t even have to be disloyal to him, he’ll just think it’s unattractive if you possess that trait and it could be a deal breaker for him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He can’t sleep with clothes on. If he absolutely has to he can force himself, but the rest of the time; he’s sleeping butt-naked.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagines #hogwarts legacy headcanon #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for 🦄 behind the cut; obligatory sugar baby Kon.

Good. Let me send you the address, Tim says, and does. Might as well take care of that now, he figures. Kon sends him back a bunch of candy and heart emojis. Tim suffers for a moment and tries to figure out if he can emotionally handle sending any back. 

He tries a lollipop, immediately regrets it and replaces it with a wrapped candy, then regrets that too and tries the neutrality of a normal heart, but that doesn't seem like he's trying hard enough, and he deletes that too and then stares blankly at his empty text box with no idea what to put in it. 

u really liked the glitter? Kon asks, which nearly puts Tim back on the floor to crawl under his bed and hide from his own phone. like its not 2 much?

Not even slightly, Tim says. It looks good on you. 

so like u'd like it if i did it again sometime? Kon asks after a noticeable pause. 

Never mind. Tim does in fact need to crawl in under his bed. 

He'll text back after he gets re-settled, he promises himself, then shoves aside his remaining dirty laundry, slides in sideways, and suffers into his carpet. 

Yes, he texts back blind, hoping autocorrect will save him from any particularly fucked-up typos. 

Kon's text alert sounds after another noticeable pause. Tim steels himself, then peeks at the screen. 

k, it says, and nothing else. Tim wonders . . . it wasn't necessarily flirty, the way Kon asked that. So does that mean . . . 

It really does look good on you, he tries very, very cautiously, hoping he's not, like–making it weird. But Kon showed up in eyeliner and nail polish for their first “official” date and just showed him a new eyeliner he specifically asked someone he knew for help with, and he seemed to like the crop top and the short-shorts, so . . . like, does that mean he's interested in dressing a bit less, well . . . like how Tim would've expected him to want to dress, let's say?

He's really never seen him in civvies before this, so . . . who knows, really? 

all of it? Kon asks after yet another noticeable pause. Tim buries his face in the carpet so he can process the reminder of the lip gloss's existence. Jesus. 

Definitely all of it, he agrees. 

Kon doesn't text back right away. Tim considers following up, and also considers just signing over his entire trust fund to him no strings attached and wandering off to become a hermit so he can, like, survive this experience. 

It probably wouldn't work. He'd end up spending all his time worrying about Kon ending up staying in a lab and thinking it's fine to be there instead of, like . . . meditating, or whatever it is hermits actually do. 

It really does seem like Kon just–doesn't think it matters if he's in a lab, and Tim can't tell if that's because he actually doesn't care, or if it's because he thinks no one else cares. Superman clearly doesn't. Cadmus definitely doesn't. 

And he'd told Robin about it like he hadn't expected him to care either. 

That's really a thought Tim would've preferred to have occur to him while he wasn't actively talking to Kon, though at least they're not face-to-face right now. It's a little easier to not have to worry about his expression while having that sour lemon of a realization. 

Considering Kon's best endorsement of working for Cadmus when he'd been trying to sell it to him had been “could be worse”, though . . . 

Tim actually hates everything in the world, yeah. Aside from a few obvious exceptions of people who he has to either convince to turn supervillain with him or emotionally sidekick-support until such a time as he can turn supervillain, obviously. Just all of it. Whole world. The world just sucks. 

Well, there's a reason he's got supervillain plans, and that reason is definitely not that society is fine and good and morally okay as it is. 

The most moral thing to do in a situation like this is become a supervillain, as far as Tim's concerned.

#🦄 #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Okay, hear me out: Do you mind writing a NSFW alphabet about CM Punk? :P

CM PUNK NSFW ALPHABET I8+ NSFW content

NSFW ALPHABET MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

CM PUNK MASTERLIST

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He is very loving and nurturing 

He will hold you close and tell you how much he loves you as he whispers sweet nothings as you fall asleep

Although Phil has a bit of a mean streak, intimacy is something he won’t take for granted with you

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him, his favourite part is his tattoos (which you agree)

He loves the way his painted canvas looks against your bare one

He loves the sight of his tattooed hands around your throat 

On you he adores everything 

He could never pick just one thing

He is obsessed with you, he worships your body like a god

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He is a dirty old man, he loves the sight of you covered in his seed

Whether it’s pouring out of you or dripping all over you, he loves it

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

His little secret is how obsessed he is with you 

He completely obsessed with you, in an insane crazy way

Even before you started dating he would stalk you

Punk would kill with his bear hands if it meant he could have you

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

With age comes experience, he is very experienced 

He has been with many many women in his age so he knows s thing or two

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary; he loves the intimacy it provides 

Cowgirl; he loves it when you ride him

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He is very serious, almost a bit mean

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Clean shaven 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

When he wants to be Phil can be quite the romantic

Worshiping your body like a temple

Slowly making you come undone

He loves to take his time with you

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Multiple times a day

He needs that release, mainly because he is always turned on around you

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

dd/lg (heavy on this)

Daddy kink

Hair pulling 

Impact play 

BDSM

Breeding kink

Pregnancy kink

Bondage 

Biting 

Cock warming 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere he will take you anywhere he can 

Besides the privacy in your home or hotel, he loves water sex, the beach, the pool all of it

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything 

He gets turned on by anything 

Your sent, your smile, the way your fingers linger on his for a second too long

He’s embarrassed about the effect you have on him

He’s like a horney teenage boy around you

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Sharing, he’s a selfish man

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Although he gives he would rather receive 

He loves the sight of you underneath him gagging on his cock

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He is hard and rough

Fucking you into obliviation 

He loves to turn your brain into mush 

He can be mean during sex but behind the tough guy act there is so much love behind it

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

When he needs you he needs you

Although he is not the biggest fan of quickies they occur more often than you think

They will occur backstage before a match or when one of his co-workers gets a bit too friendly with you

Sometimes he might take you in the car if you misbehave 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Phil is a risky man, he likes to play games

However, he will always pass them by you first before trying something new

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I don’t see him lasting very long, typically before you

However, he can go several rounds in a row before getting tired

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has a special collection just for you

Silk handcuffs, a variation of vibrators 

He loves to use them with you

Oh and don’t forget the collar (IYKYK)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

CM Punk is a big tease, he loves to mess with you all the time 

He will feel bad for it after but in the moment he loves it

He loves it when you beg him to go faster after purposely going painfully slow

Begging for your orgasm

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s quite loud

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

👀👀👀👀

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

6 inches

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

So high, like a teenage boy

It’s not normal

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

He doesn’t fall asleep fast at all

He would probably watch you sleep tbh

#bullet clubs bitch #all elite wrestling #aew smut #aew #aew fanfiction #cm punk #cm punk fanfic #cm punk roh #cm punk x reader #cm punk return #cm punk aew #cm punk edit #cm punk fic #cm punk imagine #cm punk one shot #cm punk smut #cm punk wwe #cm punk fan fiction #pepsi phill #phill brooks

[sageistrii]

How do you feel about jimins voice? I’m seeing a ton of discourse around it again and I would be lying if I didn’t think her needs more support

What do you mean "how do I feel about Jimin's voice?"

Why do you think I Stan Jimin? You think I Stan him just because I like his personality or because he's attractive?

If you think he needs "support" that's your opinion but don't go about acting like we should agree with your opinion. You think Jimin is the only Idol who's ever had a voice crack or he's the only Idol who's had a less than stellar vocal performance?

Do y'all even know what an actual live performance sounds like? Real live vocals with choreography would not sound the best 7 times out of 10. Like you have to be a vocal powerhouse with years of extreme vocal training to be able to dance and sing at the same time without sounding off.

Kpop groups do not sing live and the day they do sing live will be the day that they get criticized for their vocals. Y'all only have so much to say about Jimin because he's one of the few vocalists in the k industry who dances and sings live at the same time with his back track not doing all the work for him.

And despite the fact that other idols have had terrible vocal moments, including other members of BTS, Jimin is the only one they think of because he's Jimin.

So get the fuck out of here with that "he needs support" bullshit because if you're going to be saying this then you should be saying the same thing about most idols.

And on the topic of le sserafim, everyone loves to act like these festivals are the standard when it comes to live singing when most of the performers use heavy back track. Le sserafim could have done the same and avoided all this, but they decided to sing live because they also have gotten a lot of shit for using back tracks. And like I said before, I think they should only sing live here on out, not caring what kpop stans have to say. And I'm glad that these girls are not letting y'all tear them down because kpop stans love when idols are visibly affected by the hate.

Not everyone can be Beyonce, some artists are not going to sound the greatest live especially when you take into account the kind of vocals they have. Jimin has spent years singing live, singing the hardest parts of bts' songs when he isn't even the main vocalist (and it goes to show how great of a pull he has and how relevant he is that he's the only member being brought up in these conversations when he isn't even the main vocalist) Jimin isn't a main vocalist, he's a dancer before anything else. But y'all know there's nothing to critique about his dancing which is literally what he's known for and what he is and he's the best at it, so y'all hold on to vocals when he was never marketed as an outstanding vocalist. He doesn't owe anyone anything especially so far in his career.

What makes Jimin's singing or parts popular isn't his vocal prowess, or because we think he's the best live singer ever. We just like how he sounds. People have a lot to say about his vocal tone but still stream his music anyways so who gives a fuck? The critique was never about him sounding bad, they just don't like or understand his vocal tone even if they can't help listening to his music. You like his music for a reason, you bash him online but stream his music for a reason. Jimin always has armys admitting that they prefer his ai covers of other members songs for a reason. I like Jimin's voice and I will enjoy anything simply because he's the one singing it, I just don't understand why y'all can't accept that we do genuinely like his voice. It's ok to not like or understand something but you also need to understand that taste is subjective. It's ok not to like something, but it's weird to act like there's no way others would like that thing, you're not the only person in the world.

Jimin himself have said he takes vocal lessons. I don't think there's anymore support that someone with his tone could get because his voice has changed with time and age and overall he has a very light and airy voice which means he's prone to vocal strain. So if you don't like that then he's not for you. (This whole thing reminds me of Sia and how her voice would break in the official studio version. More singers should do that because I don't think y'all understand that there's all types of vocalists in the world.

Letting kpop stans who have never heard their own faves sing live get into your head is definitely a choice. Because the way y'all discuss his vocals at every turn you would think all his vocal performances were bad, but no Jimin just has a couple bad vocal moments just like every other singer on earth. Let's not even talk about the fact that a lot of singers y'all think sound good live use pitch correction and autotuned mics on stage.

Blinks especially hold on to the encore video or that video from 2018 for a reason. There was never any drag towards his actual performances. No one ever posted a video of Jimin full on performing like crazy or set me free pt2 and said he sounds bads. Jimin has been an idol for years and has done lots of encore performances. Most times idols have bad encore moment because they're not actively performing and because of that they get confused on how to go about it. Encores are supposed to be fun and silly,they are not supposed to sound great but now kpop Stans have ruined these fun moments after a win with their nitpicking. This fixation on encores started in 2022 btw because prior to that no one cared.

Start thinking for yourself instead of letting people whose faves never sing live convince you that someone who does is a bad singer. Y'all let people on social media tell you how to think or influence your own personal opinion and that's the problem.