#the door says 'pull' but the heart wants what it wants

[sugawhaaa]

°☆---SMUT SKZ REACTION---☆°

°☆~Walking in on the two of you having sex~☆°

Warnings/genre::SMUT, rough sex (Minho, Jeongin, Changbin,) BDSM (Felix) sex toys, (Felix) degradation, (minho) oral, (hyunjin, seungmin) fingering (seungmin) I think that's it 🧍🏻‍♀️

Pairing:: ot8!skz x fem!reader

A/N:: skz phase is back guys... sorry not sorry 😁 also this fanfic has me bashing my head against the wall I love it sm

Bangchan

Channie had you sitting on top of him while his hands rested at your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. The two of you had been going at it for a hot minute so this final round was quite weak. Bangchans hair was sweaty and his lips were chapped from heavy breathing. You didn't look in any better shape.

Channie swished your hair all to one side to see your beautiful face. He rubbed your bottom lip before praising you "just a bit longer babe, you're doing so good,"

That's when the door opened to Changbin. He froze for a moment as channie went to cover your body, protecting your privacy rather than his own. Bangchan gave changbin a look that said "bitch what do you want?" And changbin cleared his throat.

"S-Sorry just wanted to say Jisung door dashed some Chopchae but...I see you're busy," he closed over the door before saying "Have fun," and the door latched. Chan sighed and wiped down his face.

"Where were we?"

Minho

"You like that hm? When I call you a slut?" Lee know had you bent over the edge of the bed with your hands chained up to the bedframe left completely helpless as he pounded you from behind.

"Y-Yes," you pant out as you feel drool building up in your mouth that you can't wipe away. You squint your eyes shut as your head spins with pleasure. Minho starts thrusting faster, the room filling with the sound of his hips slapping against your ass harshly and the bed creaking for help. There was a light knock on the door and the two of you pause. The door opens to Jisung who is smiling and...innocent. Moments before being scarred for life.

"I bought some pudding for us toni-" Han pauses and his jaw drops. Minho grabs a bottle of lube and throws it at him. "Ah Jesus! It was an accident!" Jisung blocks his face as the lube comes flying at him.

"Then get out!" Minho yells and Jisung scurries away and closes the door. Minho sighs softly before adding to his comment. "And don't you dare tell me you saw Y/N like this!" He shouts before huffing. You felt kind of bad for jisung so you made a light hearted comment.

"At least he knocked"

Changbin

Changbin was always a fan of aggressive sex, not all the time, but he did like it when the two of you indulged in it. Tonight he had you on your knees, originally doggy style, and he held your arms back as he pounded into you from behind. Your cries and moans pierced through the walls as he gripped your wrists tightly. He then let go of one wrist to hold your throat and tilt your head up, showcasing his control over you.

"I'm close," you cry out in a hoarse voice and Changbin grins before doubling his efforts. His hand went from your throat to your hair and pulled your head back that way. You could feel yourself drooling but you didn't bother to clean yourself up.

That's when your greatest fear came to life. The door opened to a tired Jeongin with his skincare still on and his headband throwing back his spikey hair. His eyes then widened as Changbin froze. You ducked down and buried your face in the blankets.

"Oh shit," Jeongin covered the view with his hand as his face burnt red, his ears a bright red. "Sorry, I didn't see anything," he stumbled backward, his eyes shut, before closing the doors. You sigh before groaning into the bed sheets. Changbin pats your back comfortingly. You couldn't believe Jeongin saw you in such a state...

Hyunjin

Hyunjin sat you at the edge of the bed and went on his knees. He had your legs parted with his head sandwiched in between your thighs eating you out. Your moans were soft and quiet, surprisingly, but the room was filled with set and sloppy sounds. The overhead light was off so the only source of light was the lamp on your nightstand.

As hyunjin noticed your body tensing and your legs shaking he began to trace feather light circles on your leg, adding an extra bit of sensual contact. He moaned against your core softly as your orgasm hit. You threw your head back as your breath shook with pleasure. Hyunjin drank up every last drop of your arousal, poking his tongue between the tight folds and sucking the cum out of your pussy.

That's when the door opened. Felix stood in the doorway, at first not noticing the situation he walked into, before realizing you were completely naked. "Oh shit-" he put a hand over your body from his POV. Hyunjin turned around, cum dripping from his lips and he froze. He didn't want his friend to see him or you in this situation.

Hyunjin covered his mouth partially from shock and partially to cover the evidence of your "fun". Felix rushed out of the room and closed the door behind him before shouting "sorry!" And fleeing down the hall.

Felix

Felix can be somewhat intimidating during sex, a side that only you get to see and cherish. He's usually very gentle with his precious angel, you, but every now and then you plead him to treat you like an object, a toy, or one would say a slut. Tonight was one of those nights.

Felix had you awkwardly tied up on the bed, on your knees with your arms up and attached to a chain hooked to the ceiling and a vibrator between your legs. He sat behind you and occasionally played with your breasts, nibbled your back, or fingered your clit. Currently he was groping you as you whined and squirmed against the vibrator.

"Just a little bit more," he rasped into your ear as he flicked and fingered your nipples. Just as your release began to pile up the door swung open to Seungmin, innocently expecting Yongbok on his phone or ps5. His jaw instantly dropped before turning into a look mixed with disappointment and disgust.

Meanwhile you and Felix were flustered as all hell, you were still on the verge of cumming and basically helpless when tied up like this and Felix straight up froze. Seungmin left without saying a word and closed the door. You curse loudly as you cum and throw your head back but Felix is still frozen.

"Can you turn this vibrator off before I fall apart?" you whimper and Felix blushes.

"S-Sorry, yeah,"

Jisung

Han always holds you close when you have sex, skin ship is meaningful to him. He currently has you laid back, in missionary position, while he leans down to basically hug your body while he fucks you. Tonight was a night of lazy yet romantic sex. It wasn't about going fast or teasing it was just about experiencing pleasure with each other.

The two of you were surprisingly quiet for once, in the sense you weren't talking dirty to each other, the room filled with soft sighs and little groans. "You're so beautiful baby," Han groans into your ear as he begins to lose himself in you. You bring your hands up to claw at his sweaty back as your climaxes start to build.

Jisung bites down on your neck to quiet his moans and you let out a cry of pleasure and the door opens. Straight faced minho holding a grocery bag. You and Han freeze and look at Lee know surprised. "I got pudding...it's here if you guys want some when you're done," he gestures to the bag and leaves, closing the door behind himself. You and Han look at each other before laughing softly.

"He's so weird," you chuckle as you smile up at jisung. Han blushes and nods, his sweaty bangs falling into his face.

"He's always like that...pudding does sound nice after this though..."

Seungmin

Seungmin held your legs open wide as he licked circles around your folds, his finger flicking your G-spot teasingly at the same time. Seungmin is always such a tease, especially with foreplay and today it was driving you mad. "Please seungmin~" you whine as you pout down at him but your pleas have no effect on him. "Please!" You whine again and he shoves two fingers deep inside you.

You cry out as your body jerks forward.

"Stop whining," he growls and you whine as you throw your head back. His fingers steadily thrusted in and out of your tight wet folds as you fight the urge to squirm and wiggle around in pleasure. "Good girl," he smirks in a cold tone. Suddenly there's a knock on the door and you don't even know how to react but Seungmin doesn't stop his fingers.

You cry out in pleasure as Hyunjin opens the door. Seungmins rhythm never faltered even after Hyunjin was witnessing the scene.

"Go damn, okay, I'm leaving," hyunjin uses his hand to cover your body from his view as Seungmin glares at him. Hyunjin leaves in a hurry just as your orgasm hits. You claw at the sheets and let out a loud groan of pleasure, your legs shaking. Seungmin gently plays with your pussy to extend your orgasm and when you're finally finished you stare at him.

"Why didn't you stop?"

"You were close to cumming, an unwanted guest doesn't effect my performance baby,"

Jeongin

Jeongin is always such an interesting character in bed, very unpredictable. Tonight he decided that he wanted pussy right then and there and I mean, why wouldn't you comply? You ended up being folded underneath him with your legs on his shoulders, his cock effortlessly sliding in and out of you due to the build-up of arousal from your previous fun.

Your arms were wrapped around his back and clawing at his skin and hair. "Please Jeongin!" You cry out in pleasure as your head spins, and your eyes begin to water with desperation. You had been pushed so close to the edge countless times that now you couldn't even function like a normal human being; only a slut. There was then a knock on the door. Jeongin didn't even know how to react when the door began to open.

Bangchan stood in the door with bright smile before his jaw dropped. "Oh my bad," he laughs softly; jeongin lifts you up closer to him to cover your body from Chans view.

"Hyung get out!" He whines loudly, his dominant and rough facade fading due to the audience.

"of course, keep having fun," he smiles as he begins to close the door. "Oh and if you want those marks to go away faster I have some lotion that-"

"Get out!"

[lovebugism]

smutty requests you say... maybe eddie x reader fooling around secretly, while wayne's home? so like a little exhibitionism kink?

i'm just now realizing i totally misread the prompt so pls forgive me anon, i'll happily write a part 2 to this if u want!! — the first time uncle wayne catches you and eddie in the act™ (established relationship, inspired by this universe, smut 18+ | 1.3k)

“Alright. I’m headed out,” Wayne announces in a gravelly drawl, huffing as he rises from his creaking recliner. His work boots sound heavy on the worn carpet as he trudges towards the front door, closer to a wretched and unavoidable graveyard shift. His old bones are weighed down by a preemptive dread and a homemade meal you cooked with him in mind.

Eddie feels bad for being so happy to see him leave.

“Have fun,” the boy lilts playfully from where he’s sprawled along the couch, smiling wide with his head tilted to his shoulder.

Wayne grumbles vaguely in response.

“Bye, Mr. Munson,” you grin more sincerely than the boy beside you.

The man flashes you a mere hint of a grin, which is a whole lot more than most people get these days. He pulls a worn baseball cap over his balding head and nods once in your direction. “Bye, sweetpea,” he responds in his usual gritty and melodic Southern cadence.

The rusted hinges of the screen door squeal open and shut behind him. A wintery breeze billows in, briefly piercing the heated trailer and biting at Eddie’s burning skin. 

You idle on the other side of the couch, with your eyes drawn to the sitcom playing in static colors ahead of you — unaware of your boy’s building desire and far too distant for his liking. Eddie marvels at your profile, unabashed and boyish, and waits for the perfect moment to strike.

He hears Wayne’s truck door close with a muffled thud. The ignition rattles for a moment, then roars when amber headlights shine suddenly through the sheer curtains. Eddie waits until he hears the tires crunch against the gravel drive before he pounces on you, like unsuspecting prey to a predator of unbridled longing.

You squeal when his mouth locks suddenly with your pulse, warm and wet on your unkissed skin. He wraps you in his arms like he intends to smother you against him. You swear you can feel his heart racing against your shoulder. His tongue darts along the most sensitive spot on your neck, and your head tips back with an airy laugh.

“What?” Eddie mumbles, muffled into your skin.

“Nothing,” you giggle. “Just thought you’d last longer than that.”

“Hm. Feel like I’ve heard that one before.”

“Shut up,” you gripe, but pull him impossibly closer just the same.

You bury your nose in his wild curls, inhaling the sweet scent of his conditioner and the subtle skunky smell of weed. He mouths at your neck with an intentional sloppiness that makes your eyes flutter.

Eddie grumbles a moan against your skin, which you feel in little tingles in the pit of your stomach. “You taste good,” the boy observes mindlessly into your pulse.

“I taste like sweat,” you scoff against his temple. “I still need to shower.”

“What’s the point? You’re just gonna get dirty again.”

Eddie pulls away with a soft smack. His lips are rosy and softly swollen as they curl into a grin. His chocolate eyes swim with mischief as yours narrow into a squint. “You’re such a boy,” you deadpan.

“Just love you,” the boy shrugs. “That’s all.”

You’re grateful when his lips finally meet yours. You’re only able to breathe when he’s kissing you, in a heavy exhale through your nose that fans along his cupid’s bow. He licks into your mouth tasting like a homecooked meal and nicotine and boy. Something foreign and nostalgic and tender. You melt into him accordingly. 

When he urges you to lay back against the couch, you let him. You cradle his face in your hands to keep him close as he props himself on his forearms, careful not to crush you despite his efforts to kiss the breath from your lungs. His weight is a comforting one anyway — body warm and lean and pleasantly heavy on top of yours.

You forget to take another breath until Eddie pulls away. You inhale deeply, lungs grateful for air, as the boy’s mouth treks down your jaw.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collarbone, spit cooling and drying again on your skin. Goosebumps pebble in their wake, while his hand slides down your stomach.

His fingertips creep into the waistline of your pajama pants, perhaps a fruitless distraction from the lovebite he sucks just below your jaw. It’s a burning sensation of his teeth, followed by a warmer, more pleasant one as his tongue smooths over the bite.

“What are you? A vampire?” you giggle, fingers twisting in his hair.

You feel his smile curl into your neck. “Maybe,” he quips.

“I have to go leave eventually. You know that, right? And my roommates will freak if they see a hickey.”

Eddie whines between his kisses. “No, you don’t,” he insists with an audible frown. “Why can’t you just stay here forever?”

“Even if I wanted to, Wayne would still see. And that would be equally as horrifying.”

“He won’t be back until morning,” Eddie argues, punctuated by his teeth scraping your pulse. “It’ll be faded by then. Probably.” He licks over the bite and pulls away, peering down at you with a mischievous leer. “Unless… You want me to stop?” he offers in a sarcastic lilt.

You squirm under his gaze. “No…” you answer sheepishly.

He grins. “Then stop complaining, sweet thing.”

“Eddie,” you scold when the boy ducks down again, continuing his assault on your delicate skin, though you make no further attempt to stop him.

His kisses grow wetter and warmer and more languid as his hand travels down down down. A breathy moan catches in your throat when his calloused palm cups your bare pussy.

The damp, velvet feeling of you makes Eddie’s eyes widen. He didn’t know you’d be naked down there. He might’ve been more careful about it if he had.

“Shit,” he huffs.

“Sorry,” you squeak, face swirled apologetically.

Eddie pulls away again, head spinning as he stares down at you with heavy eyes. “No— Don’t— Don’t apologize for that shit, are you kidding?” he stammers, then laughs at how sorrowful you look. Like this could ever be a bad thing. “It’s hot.”

You smile sheepishly. “I’m just running out of clean clothes. That’s why I had to do the laundry today.”

“Well, next time, I’m just gonna lock the door to the washer,” Eddie retorts playfully. “So then you have to walk around naked.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a boy,” you repeat, right before you drag him down by his shoulders to swallow him in another kiss.

You lick into his mouth only to find that his hand had never wavered. He cups you delicately there still, and creeps his middle finger between your satiny folds. 

Your hips buck on instinct. His palm bumps your clit. Your moans entwine in a kiss.

The screen door opens again with another grating screech. You and Eddie part instantly, swollen mouths smacking as your heads turn in sync.

Wayne stills in the doorway, weathered face swirled in horror. Neither of you move for several long moments — like, if you stay still, you’ll turn invisible somehow.

“Really?” Wayne huffs. “On the couch?”

Eddie’s wide eyes dart awkwardly. “What are you doing here?” he wonders breathlessly, still on top of you and still with his hand down your pants.

“Forgot my damn wallet.” Wayne keeps his gaze averted as he trudges to the tiny, square dining table by the window. He tucks the leather billfold into the pocket of his navy jumpsuit and promptly returns the way he came.

You and Eddie spare a wordless look of horror between you in the meanwhile.

“Do it in a bed next time, alright?” Wayne advises from the doorway with his back facing you. The rusted door creaks open and, just before it shuts behind him, you hear him shout. “And use protection!”

[levisjinchuriki]

acts of service - toji fushiguro

summary - you love toji and you'd never let him feel like a burden

warning - angst, mention of an argument, going to bed angry, acts of service, husband toji, fluff at the end, soft!toji

the bedroom door slams behind you as your heart is pounds. your jaw hurts from biting back words you’ll regret. you and toji had your third argument already this week. his muffled voice tells you he’s still frustrated as he talks to you through the door, but you don’t respond. you’re too angry.

his voice eventually fades, and the sound of his retreating footsteps tells you he’s given up. you curl under the covers, still fuming, until the warmth of the bed lulls you into a restless sleep.

—

hours later, you wake up with a dry throat and your chest still tight from the argument. slipping out of bed, you quietly make your way to the kitchen. the first thing you notice is toji’s lunch bag on the counter, already zipped shut. you always pack his lunches—an unspoken routine between you two, one small way you show your love.

after unzipping the bag, your heart sinks– inside are a few hastily thrown snacks: a bag of chips, a granola bar, an apple. no sandwich, no leftovers, no real meal to sustain him through his grueling workday. it’s clear he didn’t expect you to pack his lunch tonight. 

he didn’t want to burden you.

your chest tightens as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the anger is still there, but it can’t overpower the ache in your heart. toji might be stubborn, even infuriating, but you love him. even now, after everything.

you grab his lunch bag, emptying out the snacks with trembling hands. tonight’s leftovers sit untouched in the fridge. you plate the meal carefully, transferring it into containers and neatly tucking it into his lunch bag. you even add a few extra touches: a little pack of soy sauce, the cookies you baked recently, and some fruit.

finally, you grab a scrap of paper and a pen. for a moment, you hesitate, unsure what to write. then the words spill out, simple and raw:

i’m still mad at you. but i love you more than anything. please eat well today. 

you fold the note and tuck it into the lunch bag before zipping it shut again. a deep sigh escapes your lips as you set it back on the counter, right where he’ll see it in the morning.

the anger isn’t gone, but neither is the love. you head back to bed, the heaviness in your chest lightened just a little. you hope you can both start again tomorrow.

—

in the early hours of the morning, toji stands at the bedroom door, his lunch bag clutched in one hand. he’s staring at it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, a faint crease between his brows. the way his jaw tightens and his shoulders drop says more than words ever could.

he doesn’t deserve you, not after last night. that’s the thought running through his head as he quietly enters the room and sets the bag quietly on the dresser. he only meant to come in to get his work clothes. when his eyes land on you, curled up in bed, your face soft and peaceful in sleep, he knows he can’t leave just yet.

before he can stop himself, he’s moving toward you. his weight dips the mattress as he climbs in behind you, slow and deliberate, his body fitting against yours like it was made to. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest, his warmth seeping into you.

you stir slightly, murmuring incoherently, but you don’t wake. toji presses his face into your hair, breathing you in. his lips lightly brush the back of your neck.

“i’m sorry” he whispers, his voice low and rough, almost inaudible. “for last night. for everything”.

his hand slides up to rest on your stomach, his thumb tracing lazy, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. he’s not expecting forgiveness—not yet—but he needs you to feel this, even in your sleep.

he kisses the curve of your shoulder, then the space just behind your ear. each kiss is soft, tender, filled with everything he struggles to say out loud. “i don’t deserve you” he murmurs against your skin, his voice breaking slightly. “but i’m so damn lucky to have you anyway”.

you shift again, a small sigh escaping your lips as you unconsciously press closer to him. toji tightens his hold, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. the world outside is waiting for him, but for now, all he cares about is this—this quiet moment with you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo, the rhythm of your breathing lulling him into a sense of peace he didn’t know he needed.

“i love you” he says softly, his words barely a whisper, meant more for himself than for you. “even when i mess up. always”.

he stays there, holding you, until the weight in his chest feels a little lighter and the clock tells him he can’t stay any longer. but as he finally pulls away, tucking the blanket carefully around you, he swears to himself that he’ll make things right. you deserve nothing less.

--

a/n: this was inspired by a tiktok i saw. i hope you guys enjoyed. thank you for all the love recently!! <3

[covenofagatha]

Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 2)

Word count: 3500+

Warnings: making out, slight mentions of masturbation, sex toys

You’re on your new laptop the next day when Agatha walks into the bakery. Your face lights up and she smiles at you the second she’s through the door. Like every time you see her, she manages to take your breath away. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, motioning your hands around the laptop. “Thank you so much again. You did not have to do this.” 

“I know I didn’t. But I wanted to, hon,” she says. Agatha’s now stopped in front of the counter, looking at you expectantly. 

“Do you want the usual?” 

She smirks playfully. “Do you remember everyone’s order?” 

“Only the ones that tip about 500% and buy me laptops,” you joke, but there’s some truth to it. You’ve had customers that have come in every day for a week and you don’t even realize it’s the same person. She seems satisfied with your quip and nods. 

“I’d love the ‘usual,’ thank you.” 

This time, though, when she holds out the typical $50, you pull out the change from the register and insist she take it. She raises an eyebrow. 

“Please, Agatha, you just bought me a computer,” you say, the beg coming out a little whiny. She teasingly rolls her eyes and takes the money from you. “Thank you. Your coffee will be right up.” 

“Actually, can you make it two?” 

Your heart skips a beat. Who is joining her? A friend? Her partner? 

And then you inwardly scold yourself for caring. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. Another espresso?” 

She shrugs slyly and skates a finger over the countertop. “I don’t know. What kind of coffee do you want?” 

You stare at her blankly, trying to make sense of her question. She must see your puzzled expression because she tosses her head back with a laugh. 

“I’m asking you to have coffee with me, doll,” she explains and the lightbulb clicks in your mind. 

“Oh–oh my god! I’m sorry.” Of course you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of the most beautiful woman on the planet. 

“You don’t have to.” This is the first time you’ve ever seen a flicker of doubt on her face. 

“No, no, I want to. Go sit down and I’ll bring the coffee over when I’m ready.” 

She sits down at the normal booth and you busy yourself making an espresso and a pumpkin spice latte. This time, you allow yourself to glance at Agatha and you feel something in your stomach when you notice that she’s already looking at you, a fond smile on her lips. There’s a tug in your gut and you smile back. You’re not sure why the older woman is drawn to you this much, but you are not complaining. 

There’s something about her too. Something that pulls you in and doesn’t want to let you go. 

You successfully make the coffee this time without any broken laptops and you bring them over to the table, sitting across from her before she has to ask. She looks pleased and blows on her coffee before taking a sip. 

“What’s your drink of choice?” She asks, nodding at your cup. 

“Oh, just a pumpkin spice latte,” you say dismissively. “I’m a big pumpkin fan.” She nods like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. “And, thank you again. For the laptop. You really didn’t have to do that. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You don’t mean for it to sound as dirty as it does and she smirks like she hears it too. 

“There is one thing you can do.” You urge her earnestly with your eyes. “Go ice skating with me tonight?” It’s getting colder in Westview and the winter festivities are being broken out, including the Winter Wonderland in the square. Complete with an ice skating rink, hot chocolate stands, a snow pit, a hill for the kids to sled down, and even more, it was a town favorite. 

You frown but your heart skips a beat at the thought of her wanting to hang with you. As a date? “How is that repaying you?” 

She flicks her hand. “The money isn’t a big deal. I just want to get to know you better. Unless you’re busy.” 

“No, I have literally nothing to do later,” you say, shaking your head. She looks relieved. “Can I at least pay for the tickets?” 

“Honey,” she scoffs playfully. “I asked, so I’m paying. If you want to pay, you’ll just have to ask me to do something another time.”

“This sounds an awful lot like a date,” you say before you can stop yourself. The corners of her mouth quirk up and she raises an eyebrow. 

“Do you want it to be?” 

“Yeah,” you answer almost immediately, your voice hoarse at the thought. A date. With a rich, hot, older woman. She smiles genuinely. “What time? Oh, I hope all my winter clothes aren’t at home.” You haven’t been back in awhile to your parents’ house and you only brought the necessities to make it until you go back. You’re not sure how many cute options you’ll have. 

“I’ll pick you up around five-thirty? And do you have warm clothes?” She gives you a once-over. You’re in jeans and your uniform top. In the back, you have the heavy coat you wear when you have to go outside, and back at your dorm, you have sweatpants. Not exactly up to par with this gorgeous woman. 

You smile and nod and try to not appear too nervous. What to wear is always a point of stress for you. She must sense this because she reaches over to pat your hand reassuringly and then pulls out her wallet from her pocket. 

Before you can protest, she slaps a credit card down on the table. Your jaw drops and you look back and forth between it and Agatha. 

“Go to the mall and get whatever you want,” she tells you, and there is not even a trace of a joke in her tone. 

“How do you know I won’t just buy a car or something crazy?”

She laughs. “I trust you. And I don’t think you would. You seem like a good girl.” She puts a lot of emphasis on those words and it makes you feel hot. You’re sure your cheeks have turned red. “Text me your address before tonight, yeah?” 

You nod because you don’t trust yourself to talk at this point. What kind of woman just casually hands over her credit card to someone she barely knows?

“Um, thank you,” is all you can muster the strength to say. She gives you one last smile before getting up from the table. 

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” 

The moment you’re done with your shift, you head to the mall. You’re not exactly sure what will suffice for the date, but you hope you’ll know it when you see it. 

You eventually find some black pants that make your ass look great and a cute purple sweater with a blue vest. It’s a little pricey though. You know Agatha said to get whatever you wanted, but you still feel a little guilty, especially after she’s thrown so much other money at you. 

So you text her. Hey Agatha! At the mall right now. Just want to check if there was a limit to how much I could spend? I found some stuff but it’s almost $200. If that’s too much, no worries at all! You send her your address as well before you can forget. 

She immediately replies. Get the stuff and anything else you want. I can’t wait to see what you’ve picked out ;) see you later. 

The winky face causes heat to pump through your veins and you bite your lip. You clear your throat and head to the check-out, heart beating fast when you press Agatha’s credit card to the reader. It goes through and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

You still can’t believe she just handed it over so willingly. 

Is she your sugar mommy now?

The question weighs on your mind until she texts you that she’s outside your building later that afternoon. You give yourself a once-over and run downstairs to her car. The new clothes are comfy and warm and she looks at you approvingly when you slide into the passenger seat. 

“Good choice,” she says. 

“Thank you again,” you reply, a little breathless from the cold and your speed. You take out her card from your wallet and hand it to her. “I can’t believe you just gave your card to some random stranger like that.” 

She laughs along with you. “I know you wouldn’t do anything. You seem too desperate to please.” Your face heats and you’re not really sure what to say. She isn’t wrong. There’s something about Agatha that makes you want to do whatever she says. “How was the rest of work?”

“Oh, good.” You wave a hand dismissively. “It was a pretty slow day today. Did you have work?” 

She launches into telling you about her newest court case and you find yourself absolutely fascinated to the point of not even realizing that you’ve arrived. Everything Agatha says has you absolutely enthralled and by the faint smirk on her face, she knows it too. 

She leads you over to the ticket stand, her hand on your lower back, and confidently buys two. 

“Thank you,” you say again, a little flustered by how she hasn’t let you pay for anything. You’ll be damned if you leave without buying her a drink or something. 

“Of course, doll. Do you want to skate first?” You nod eagerly, causing her to chuckle, and you both go to pick out skates. She has to help you lace them up after you fumble with them for a while since your hands have become so cold. 

“Full disclosure, I’m not very good at skating,” you warn her when she’s holding onto your arm at the gate. 

“I can help you, sweetheart,” she says and your heart feels so full. 

She gets onto the ice first and lets go of the railing so she can grab your hands and assist you in stepping onto the rink. Your eyes widen when you almost fall after moving your foot forward and it shoots back, but Agatha catches you in her strong arms. 

“Oh my god,” you exclaim as she stands you back up, never letting go of her tight grip on you. 

“It takes a bit to figure out. How many times have you ice skated?” 

“None,” you say, tongue poking through your lips as you look down at your feet and focus on sliding them forward. She glides backwards with you effortlessly. When you finally look up at her, she’s staring at you with something written on her face you can’t quite read. “What?” 

“You could’ve told me that you hadn’t, I would’ve taken you to dinner or something else,” she says. 

“No, no, it’s totally fine. I would’ve done whatever you wanted to do,” you reply half-mindedly. You’re more focused on skating around the corner. Once you do so successfully, her hands move from your wrists to only one hand holding your hip. 

But her touch makes you jump, fire igniting in your stomach, and you slip and fall on the ice. 

You groan in pain and Agatha stifles a laugh before squatting down to check on you. The cold has seeped into your wet pants and the humiliation burns your cheeks. 

“You okay, doll?” 

You nod your head defeatedly. “Yeah, just a little wet.” The moment you say it, you can see her eyes darken just the slightest. Your breath catches when you realize the innuendo and there’s a tense silence with the two of you just staring at each other while others skate around you. 

“Well, let’s get you up. Want to keep trying?” Agatha asks finally. She gets back on her feet as gracefully as ever. 

“As long as you don’t let me fall again,” you joke and take her outstretched hands.

“I didn’t let you fall, you did that all on your own,” she says playfully. 

She carefully lifts you up and you grab onto her biceps when you’re fully standing so you don’t crash back down. Her hands grab your waist again to hold you steady and when you look at her face, she’s staring at your lips. 

“Agatha,” you say, but you’re not sure what else to add because now you’re staring at her lips too. She leans in an imperceptible amount and your mouth parts involuntarily, ready for a kiss. 

“Look out!” Someone shouts and the next thing you know, a three foot tall blur runs straight into you, knocking you, Agatha, and the random person down. 

“Sorry!” The kid exclaims and jumps up to skate away, leaving you and Agatha wincing on the ice. 

“Why don’t we go find something else to do?” She asks and you’ve never been more happy to agree. 

Agatha helps you up once again and this time, interlocks her fingers with yours and slowly skates with you to the exit. 

Once you’ve gotten your shoes back on, Agatha buys the two of you cups of hot chocolate and a pretzel to split and leads you over to a bench so you can sit. 

“Thank you for this,” you say, shoving a piece of the pretzel into your mouth. 

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” 

The pet name does things to you that you can’t say and you find yourself wishing that the almost-kiss on the ice actually happened. You feel so connected and attracted to Agatha, even though you’re not sure why. 

“Why do you keep tipping me so much and buying me all these nice things?” You’re finally brave enough to voice the question that’s been on your mind since the first day she came into the bakery. 

She smiles and reaches over to squeeze your hand. “You deserve it. And I like spoiling you. You get this cute little look in your eye.” You blush instantly and she laughs. “Like that.” 

“Well, can I take you out sometime soon? Maybe for dinner or a movie or something?” 

“I’d like that. I’m free Tuesday or Thursday night this week.” 

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” you say, happy that she’s finally going to let you treat her to something. “Unless I see you at the bakery first. It seems to have become an integral part of your morning.” You’re teasing but part of you wants her to elaborate on what she’s doing. 

“What can I say? The cinnamon crumb cake and the espresso are to die for,” she says with a wink. You laugh despite yourself. 

Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you sip on your drinks and eat the pretzel. 

“Is there anything else you want to do?” She asks. 

“Can we go on the ferris wheel?” 

“Of course, dear.” She stands up and offers you her hand and you obviously take it. 

The line for the ride isn’t long at all so you basically walk right into a passenger car. Agatha sits next to you instead of across from you so she can wrap an arm around your shoulders. The wheel starts turning and something on the ceiling catches your eye. 

“Is that mistletoe?” You ask, pointing up at it and then looking at Agatha, who is also peering up at it, corners of her mouth quirking up. 

“Looks like it,” she answers thoughtfully and then glances at you playfully. “Shall we?” 

You don’t even answer, just clasp her cheek with your hand and pull her in. 

It’s a slow kiss at first, just a press of your mouth against hers, but then she opens her lips and slides her tongue into your mouth. You moan into her mouth and try to pull her even closer to you so you can feel more of her. She sucks on your tongue and your teeth make a clicking noise when they clash against each other. 

When you have to pull back for air, she kisses down your jaw and then gently bites on your neck. You gasp and your hips jump against nothing. 

“Agatha,” you breathe and you can feel her smirking as she nibbles on your earlobe. A fire stokes to life in your stomach and your body feels like a lifewire. One of her hands dips under your vest so she can cup your breast through your sweater. You whimper and she chuckles lowly. “Please.” 

“Is this okay?” She asks and you nod so hard your head hurts. She smirks and her hand slides down and under your sweater. 

The coldness of her fingers against your warm stomach makes you gasp but you like it and you pull her back in for a kiss. Her hand keeps moving up under your shirt and she’s about to reach your bra— 

—and the Ferris wheel stops. You let out a sigh of disappointment and Agatha laughs. 

The door to your car opens and the two of you step out. You wonder if your face is as red as it seems and you hope that no one accidentally saw you two making out. 

“So what now?” She asks once you’re back in the middle of the fair. But there’s only one thing on your mind right now. 

You don’t care that you’re surrounded by people right now; you stand up on your tiptoes and give her a searing kiss which she returns immediately. Your hands wrap around her neck and hers find their place on your waist. You end the kiss by tugging on her bottom lip and when you pull back, her blue eyes are dark and hooded. 

“Can we do more of that?” You breathe and she chuckles. You’ve never wanted anyone so badly in your life and you think if you don’t have her hands on you in the next ten minutes you might die. 

“Anything you want,” she whispers and presses one last chaste kiss to your lips. “Does this mean you want to leave?” 

“Please,” you beg and she smirks at how visibly desperate you are. You’ve become so wet and needy since she put her hand on your waist on the ice. You practically drag her back to the car and when she pulls back in front of your dorm, you look at her with begging eyes. “Come in?” 

The moment you say it, you realize how ridiculous it sounds. Bringing a hot, rich, older woman up to your living space that’s probably the size of her closet so she can fuck you in your twin sized bed? Plus it was your first date and you’ve known her for less than a week.

She’s clearly thinking the same thing because she smiles softly and says, “Maybe on Tuesday, doll.”

And yet, you whine. “Why can’t we just go back to your place right now? Please, I’m so-” You cut yourself off before you can tell her just how much you really need her. 

Her smile turns into a knowing smirk. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take care of that yourself then?” You gape and a flush climbs up your neck and to your face, but she leans in and keeps going. “Use your hand, or a toy, to think about me. Just to tide you over for a bit.” 

“I don’t have a toy,” is all you can think to say with your brain short-circuiting. That shouldn’t have been the part to focus on, but Agatha pulls back with wide eyes. 

“You don’t?” 

And then the image of Agatha using a toy on herself inserts itself in your brain and you have to cross a leg over the other to get some sense of relief. “No,” you squeak out. 

The glint in her eyes is positively evil. “Have a good night, doll.” She gives you one last kiss and then unlocks the car door. You give her a playful glare and then go upstairs. 

After you’ve showered and put on pajamas, you slide your hand down your sweatpants and touch yourself. 

It takes all of three minutes before you cum all over your hand, just replaying the kiss with Agatha in your mind. 

You fall asleep quickly after that and in the morning, you’re surprised to see a notification saying that you have a package in the delivery room. You throw on a sweatshirt and head down and it’s a medium sized brown box with your name and an A. Harkness as the mailer. 

Frowning, you take it back to your room and cut it open. Moving the flaps aside, you peer in the box and gasp. 

There’s at least four sex toys. A vibrator, a dildo, a different type of toy, and then a small box. You pick up the box and immediately drop it. 

It’s a remote controlled, long-distance vibrator. 

Your breathing has quickened and you feel your underwear growing wet yet again because of Agatha. 

And then you see a piece of paper. Hands shaking, you pull it out and open it. 

Hope you enjoy ;) Maybe you can wear the vibrator on Tuesday. See you soon. 

[iamgonnagetyouback]

regulus black x reader where christmas at the potters brings back two brothers together

Regulus Black rarely trembled. He was a man of precision, poise, and well-practiced restraint. Yet here he stood, fidgeting with the cuffs of his tailored coat, staring at the warmly lit Potter residence as though it were a dragon’s lair. His free hand clasped yours tightly, clammy despite the biting chill of December air.

“Amour,” he began nervously, his tone a mixture of urgency and dread, “are you certain the invitation was for me too? Perhaps Lily and James only meant you, and it would be terribly awkward if—”

“Reg.” You squeezed his hand, cutting through his spiral. “You’re overthinking this. They invited both of us. Lily wrote your name herself, remember? In that beautiful gold ink? You’re family.”

His jaw tensed, his grey eyes darting to the door and then back to you. “Family,” he echoed softly, the word heavy with doubt and hope intertwined. “It’s been years. Sirius—he’s—what if—”

“What if he’s been waiting for this moment?” you interrupted gently, reaching up to cup his face. His eyes softened, the worry in them breaking your heart. “You’re here because they want you here. And so do I. Sirius will come around, love. And if he doesn’t, you’ll have me to hex him. Alright?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, though his fingers still fidgeted. He leaned into your touch for a moment, taking a deep breath before he muttered, “I still think this might be a mistake.”

“It’s not,” you assured him, squeezing his hand again as you turned to knock on the door. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, his voice stopped you.

“Amour, wait,” he said quickly. “Are you absolutely certain? What if—”

You silenced him with a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. “Regulus Arcturus Black, if you ask me one more time, I’ll drag you inside myself.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding reluctantly. “Alright,” he whispered, though his grip on your hand tightened as the door swung open.

Lily stood there, her radiant smile lighting up the wintry evening. “You’re here!” she exclaimed warmly, pulling you into a hug before turning to Regulus. Her arms wrapped around him without hesitation, her genuine affection clear. “Regulus, welcome.”

He stiffened at first, his posture rigid and uncertain. But then, slowly, he returned the hug, a quiet “Thank you” escaping him. You could see the way his shoulders began to relax, the faintest sheen of tears in his eyes as he pulled back.

“Come in, come in,” Lily urged, her excitement genuine as she ushered you both inside.

James appeared next, his grin as boyish as ever. “Look who decided to join the fun!” he teased, clapping Regulus on the shoulder. “About time, mate.”

“James,” Regulus greeted stiffly, his voice carefully polite but uncertain. He glanced at you, and you smiled encouragingly. James didn’t seem fazed by Reg’s formality, stepping aside with a welcoming gesture.

Before anyone could say more, a small figure darted out from behind James, a mop of black hair bouncing as the toddler jumped forward with a loud “BAH!” aimed directly at Regulus.

Regulus froze, staring down at the child with wide eyes. Harry, oblivious to the tension, pouted, his tiny face scrunching in disappointment. “He’s not scared!” he whined, looking up at James for confirmation.

“Oh no,” Regulus said suddenly, his voice low and serious. He stepped back dramatically, clutching his chest as though struck. “You’ve frightened me terribly!” His grey eyes widened in mock terror, and his hand shot to yours for support.

Harry’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced by an elated giggle. “I scared him!” he cried, jumping up and down with glee. “Mum, I scared him!”

“You sure did, darling!” Lily laughed, beaming at her son.

James ruffled Harry’s hair with exaggerated pride. “Great job, young man. Now, go on, bring your uncle and aunt inside.”

Regulus froze at the word, his gaze snapping to James. He seemed to falter for a moment, swallowing hard as emotion flickered across his face. Then, a tiny tug on his coat brought him back.

“Come on, Uncle!” Harry demanded with a toothy grin, his little hands pulling insistently.

Regulus stared down at him, his breath catching. Slowly, hesitantly, a small, soft smile crept onto his lips. He bent down and lifted Harry into his arms, the toddler laughing as he looped his arms around Reg’s neck.

You watched, your chest tightening with emotion as tears pricked your eyes. The sight of Regulus, holding Harry so tenderly despite his nerves, was enough to overwhelm you. He turned to you, his smile shy but genuine, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss both his cheek and Harry’s.

“See?” you whispered against his ear. “You’re exactly where you belong.”

Regulus didn’t reply, but the tear that slipped down his cheek as he carried Harry inside said everything.

The warmth of the Potter home enveloped you as you wandered into the kitchen, leaving Regulus in the living room with Harry still babbling excitedly in his arms. The sound of laughter and soft music filled the air, and the smell of something sweet baking teased your senses. You stepped inside, only to pause at the sight before you.

Peter Pettigrew and Mary Macdonald stood by the counter, hands brushing as they decorated a tray of cookies. Peter was a blushing mess, his usually pale cheeks bright pink as Mary whispered something that had him grinning like a schoolboy.

You cleared your throat loudly, hiding a smirk as they jumped apart, the spatula Mary had been holding clattering onto the counter. Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Mary’s blush matched the rosy frosting she was piping.

“Am I interrupting something?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

“Bun!” Peter exclaimed, his voice a bit too high-pitched as he tried to regain his composure. “You’re here! We were just… uh, baking! Cookies!”

Mary rolled her eyes fondly but recovered quicker, smiling warmly at you. “Welcome, sweetie. It’s so good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too,” you replied with a chuckle. “And no need to explain. You two are adorable, by the way.”

Peter fumbled with the tray of cookies, muttering something under his breath as Mary handed you a warm one to taste. “Here, try these,” Peter said eagerly, watching your expression with nervous anticipation.

You bit into the cookie and hummed appreciatively. “Delicious. Seriously, you two make a great team in the kitchen. And overall.”

Peter blushed, but before he could say anything, Regulus stepped into the room. His presence seemed to shift the energy, quieting Peter’s usual bumbling nature.

“Regulus,” Mary greeted him brightly, her grin widening as you gave her a nod. She quickly plated a few cookies and handed them to him. “Here, try one. We’ve been working on these for ages.”

Regulus took the plate with a small, reluctant smile, glancing briefly at you as if for guidance. He picked up a cookie and took a careful bite, pausing as the flavors settled. Then, to everyone’s surprise, his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“They’re wonderful, Mary,” he said softly, nodding in approval.

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “And?”

Regulus hesitated, his gaze flickering to Peter, who was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “...And Peter,” he added with a slight smirk.

Mary and Peter both grinned, looking utterly pleased with themselves. “Thanks, Regulus,” they said in unison, earning a chuckle from you.

The lighthearted moment was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. You turned to see Remus stepping in, his tall frame illuminated by the kitchen lights. He smiled warmly, his gaze soft as it landed on you.

“Dove,” he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug. “You look lovely as ever.” Then, turning to Regulus, he nodded. “Glad you made it, Regulus. Sirius will be joining in a minute.”

Regulus stiffened at those words, his hand instinctively seeking yours as his usual calm façade faltered. After exchanging pleasantries with Remus, he pulled you aside, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper.

“Did you hear him?” Regulus asked, his panic barely contained. “‘Sirius will be joining in a minute.’ That’s code for ‘he’s furious I’m here.’ I knew this was a mistake. Oh, Merlin, I should leave. I’ll just make an excuse—would they believe me if I said Barty accidentally set Evan on fire?”

You tried not to laugh, gently placing your hands on his shoulders. “Reg, no one’s furious you’re here. Sirius might be dramatic, but he doesn’t hate you. And yes, they would believe that excuse, love. But just stay with me, okay? You’re doing fine.”

Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of a door opening again silenced him. Both of you turned as Sirius stepped into the room, his grey eyes instantly locking onto you.

“Doll,” Sirius greeted with a grin, pulling you into a quick hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you replied, giving him a warm smile.

Then Sirius’s gaze shifted to Regulus. His expression softened slightly, though his tone held a quiet intensity as he spoke. “Can I talk to you alone, Regulus?”

Regulus tensed beside you, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline. His wide eyes darted to you in panic, but you just smiled reassuringly and leaned in to whisper, “You’ve got this.”

You blew him a quick kiss before stepping away, leaving him and Sirius alone in the kitchen. As you walked out, you caught Sirius glancing at you, his face unreadable, before turning back to his brother.

Sirius leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he studied his brother with a carefully neutral expression. Regulus, for his part, was stiff as ever, his fingers twitching slightly as he tried to suppress his nerves.

“So…” Sirius began, dragging the word out. “You’re here.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I am. And you’re here.”

Sirius’s lips twitched upward in a small, begrudging smile. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Regulus shifted on his feet. “You too.”

An awkward silence settled between them, the kind that years of estrangement couldn’t quite fill. Sirius scratched the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“I actually have something for you,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

Regulus blinked, startled. “You… do?”

Sirius nodded, his usual bravado muted as he turned and disappeared into the hallway. Regulus stood frozen, glancing back at the kitchen door as if considering fleeing, but before he could, Sirius returned. In his hands was a small package, wrapped haphazardly in parchment and tied with a crooked ribbon.

“Here,” Sirius said, shoving it toward him. “It’s, uh, not much.”

Regulus stared at the package, his brow furrowing. “I wasn’t aware there was going to be gift exchanging.”

“There’s not,” Sirius replied quickly, waving him off. “Just take it, alright?”

Regulus hesitated, then reached out and accepted the gift with the same care one might use to handle a priceless artifact. He carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper, revealing a neatly folded sweater inside. The soft fabric was midnight blue, and embroidered on the chest was a constellation—the Regulus star, shining bright—and a black dog stitched beside it, looking up toward the stars.

For a moment, Regulus just stared at it, his fingers brushing over the stitching. His throat tightened, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

“I…” he began, but his voice failed him.

Sirius, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, began rambling. “I, uh, had some help from Remus, of course. I’m rubbish with sewing—nearly stabbed myself a dozen times. And the constellation—Remus said it should be accurate, so we looked it up in one of his star charts, and—"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Regulus surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius. A quiet sob escaped him as he buried his face against Sirius’s shoulder, his grip firm and unyielding.

Sirius froze for a moment before exhaling shakily. A small smile tugged at his lips as he returned the embrace, his own tears slipping free as he clung to his younger brother.

They stayed like that for a long moment, the tension between them melting away in the quiet of the kitchen.

When Regulus finally pulled back, his face was tear-streaked but calmer. Sirius gave him a lopsided grin and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Reggie,” Sirius said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m pretty sure dinner’s ready. And you know how James gets when people are late to the table.”

Regulus nodded, wiping his face as he smiled faintly. “Alright.”

Together, they stepped into the kitchen, their bond mended in a way neither had expected when the evening began. Everyone glanced up as they entered, noticing the tear tracks on both their faces, but no one said a word. Instead, they simply smiled and made room for the two brothers to join the gathering.

Regulus slid into the seat beside you, and Sirius took his place next to Remus. You gave Regulus a soft, knowing smile, gently squeezing his hand under the table. He squeezed back, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

The room soon filled with laughter as Harry began reenacting his earlier “scare” on an unsuspecting Remus, who pretended to faint dramatically. James and Lily chuckled, Mary and Peter exchanged amused glances, and Sirius leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around Remus as he laughed at Harry’s antics.

As you looked around the table, your hand still intertwined with Regulus’s, you couldn’t help but think that this was what Christmas was truly about—family, love, and finding light even after the darkest of times.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

AUTHOR'S NOTE I literally sobbed while writing this (╥ᆺ╥；)

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT simping

Requested? Yes! 

Request: 'Can you do svt simping for you?'

Seungcheol

So obvious. At some point, he won’t even try to deny or hide it. Unabashedly into you and will say it to your face and anyone else’s, even if he flushes a little when he does. He pouts and sulks for literally everyone else, but it will be doubled with you. Really just wants all of your attention 24/7 even if he’s sometimes too proud to say so. Please simp back. 

Jeonghan

I’m sorry, but you will never catch him simping. He’s too smooth for that. It’s all smug looks and cool exteriors when he’s around you. But if only anyone knew that he has notifications on for all of your socials when you post. Or has set his phone to vibrate or ring differently when it’s you that reaches out to him so he’s sure not to miss it. Or knows your phone number by heart in case something ever happens to his phone and he loses it. Will firmly deny any of these simping allegations if they’re brought to his attention. 

Joshua

Have you ever opened a door for yourself? Or pulled your own chair out? Or buckled your own seatbelt? I know, I know, he’s truly just a gentleman, but he works overtime on it when it comes to you. I don’t think anyone can even make fun of him for it because he wouldn’t pay attention to any teasing anyway. He’s way too busy seeing what you need next. 

Jun

Does not hear anyone else when you’re talking in a conversation. In fact, gets a little irritated if someone else is talking too long and keeping him from hearing your voice. Will absolutely not be subtle when he turns to you and goes, “oh well, anyway, what were you saying?” Just to make it your turn again. 

Hoshi

The opposite of Jun. Sometimes does not hear a word you say. His eyes glaze over, too busy looking at your features. He really, really tries sometimes to listen, but if he gets distracted a lot of the noise is muffled by his own internal screaming of ‘what do you mean they’re talking to me?? What do you mean they’re mine???’ Down bad. 

Wonwoo

Ooo talk about preferential treatment. I have this image that Mingyu could ask him to go do something with him and he’ll flat out say no, but five minutes later you ask him to do the very same thing and he’ll get a little heart-eyed and say sure. Makes Mingyu’s head explode and the whole group chat will know just how down bad Wonu is, but he’s totally unfazed by it. 

Woozi

No one will ever know if it’s in a public facet. Super private about it, but in said private setting, someone might witness him babying you and waiting on you, calling you sweet nicknames, all with a super cheesy smile. It really warms his group members hearts if they ever see it so they’ll never say anything bad about it. Plus, they’re scared of him so…

DK

There was never any doubt that he was a simp. Might as well tell you, ‘I’m a simp’. Glued to your side and hooked on your every word. If his group members, or even you, say something about it, he’ll smile and nod, going ‘uh huh. What about it?’ Permanent heart eyes. 

Mingyu

Might try to be strong, but will fail miserably. Might try to deny the simping allegations from his group members and might even pout about it, because he is not a simp!!! But then you call or come up to him and say ‘Mingyu, can you help me with this?’ And he’s flying out of his seat. Really, all you have to do is need him and he’s folding, accepting any teasing that is most certainly coming his way. 

Minghao

Another subtle one, but it’s still definitely there. It’s in how he chooses to spend his free time with you instead of by himself or with his group members and other friends. But the dead giveaway is how he looks at you when you talk. You know how Jeonghan might get a little gaslighty sometimes? Minghao will definitely take a page out of his book, saying ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, it’s rude to not look at someone when they talk.’ Super soft about you and tries to be super secretive about it. 

Seungkwan

It is so obvious with how he lets you get away with anything. Did something embarrassing? He will eventually let you live it down. Call him when he is busy? Acts irritated and is far from it. You cheat at a game with Jeonghan? He’s not even that mad because you look happy to have won, albeit unfairly. The members will call him out for it sometimes and he’ll turn his wrath to them instead. They will never get away with anything if they directly address his simping behavior. 

Vernon

Now I think he might like a pretty significant amount of alone time. So it’s a huge sign for his group members when he spends most of that time usually reserved for alone time with you instead. It’s the days off that he’ll spend sun up to sun down with you doing whatever. Or the late night phone calls that last hours while he wears a bit of a dopey smile. If his group members call him a simp, he’ll shrug and say okay. Totally unbothered to be that. 

Chan

Totally obvious by how he never lets you breathe. Constantly drowning you in physical affection and compliments. Will look a little faint if you ever seem shy about any of this, but especially if you dish it out as well. I know I said this earlier, but please simp back. It would annoy his group members so much!!!

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[littlespoonevan]

your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm

post 8x08 because i'm SAD in a way that can only be eased with buddie hurt/comfort 💔 title from abstract (psychopomp) by hozier

-

Buck is the one to drive him to the airport because who else would it be?

It feels a lot like deja vu as he approaches the glass doors of Departures but his step only falters for a moment before Eddie’s hand is catching his sleeve at the elbow and leading him through them. It’s further than Abby ever let him get.

Eddie lets him go as far the security line and he almost looks regretful when he turns to face Buck.

Buck would like to think he’s handled this well so far. He’s been supportive, helped Eddie choose his new home, listened to his fears about his parents, reassured him about Christopher, promised to oversee the shipping of the rest of Eddie’s stuff next week. He’s done everything right.

It hasn’t made any of this feel less wrong.

They look at each other now, awkward in a way they never are, until Eddie drops his bag and pulls him into a hug without saying anything.

Maybe because there’s nothing to say. Buck’s heart has been lodged in his throat since he parked the car; he’s not even sure he could say anything if he wanted to.

Eddie’s arms around him are a familiar weight though so Buck allows himself to sink into them. To tuck his chin into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and to fist his hands in the back of his jacket like if he holds on tight enough he might be able to convince Eddie to stay.

When Eddie does pull back he makes no attempt to leave the circle of Buck’s arms. Instead one of his hands goes to that same spot at the juncture of Buck’s neck – always the same spot – and when his thumb makes contact with the divot in Buck’s throat he seeks out Buck’s gaze.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Buck croaks, the tell-tale burn behind his eyes becoming more pronounced by the second.

“Like I’m Abby,” Eddie sighs. “Or Ali. Or Tommy. I’m not leaving you, Buck.”

Buck tries to laugh but it comes out too hysterical and Eddie’s hand tightens on his neck.

“I’m leaving,” he allows. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” Buck says, the words wobbling in the middle. His hands are still twisted in Eddie’s jacket.

“And you think I do?” Eddie asks with a half-laugh. “Who am I gonna talk to when my folks are driving me crazy? Who am I gonna talk to when I do anything? Besides, you think Chris will accept you not visiting at least once a month?”

Truthfully, Buck has no idea what Chris wants right now but he clings to Eddie’s words anyway.

“Everyone at work is gonna find me insufferable. It was bad enough that last time you weren’t there.”

Eddie laughs again, thumb brushing Buck’s neck seemingly absentmindedly. “No they won’t. And I’ll be on Facetime so much it’ll be like I never left.”

Buck ducks his head but nods anyway, gathering up the courage to say what he wants to say next. “I know you have to go,” he starts, steeling himself as he makes himself meet Eddie’s gaze. “But please don’t go forever.”

Eddie’s expression blanks, his mouth parting over nothing. Buck can only stare back, hoping that just this once it might be different. That he won’t get a, ‘Take care of yourself, Buck,’ and a hand to the cheek before the person in front of him disappears forever.

Eddie doesn’t touch his cheek. Instead he presses their foreheads together hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make Buck’s breath catch and rush out of him on a shaky exhale.

“I won’t. I promise,” Eddie breathes and his hand moves from Buck’s neck to the back of Buck’s head and Buck can’t help wondering for a moment what would happen if he closed the distance between them. If Eddie would kiss him back.

It’s not a thought he’s ever entertained before but he’s thinking it now and it feels…like it makes sense. Like an inevitability.

And what a time to have a realisation like that.

Eddie leans back then and Buck forces himself to unclench his hands, attempting to smooth out the back of Eddie’s jacket with trembling hands.

“You should go,” he says because Eddie won’t.

Eddie nods faintly in agreement and it looks like it takes every ounce of effort for him to take a step back. Buck picks up his bag for him, offers it to him, and tries for a weak smile so Eddie will know it’s okay. That he can go and Buck won’t cause a scene.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get to my parents place.”

Buck nods. “Give Chris a hug for me.”

“I will.”

Eddie starts looking towards the security line again and Buck blurts out, “Tell him I love him.”

Eddie looks back to him, a devastating smile of understanding on his face. “He knows already. But I will.”

Buck nods again and then there’s nothing left to say. Eddie turns to go and Buck does the same because he can’t watch until he’s out of sight. It hurts too much already and he can barely hold his tears back as it is.

He doesn’t need to watch himself get left behind again.

~

He’s just unlocking his car when his phone rings. He doesn’t check who it is as he climbs in, just shoves the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he reaches for his seatbelt.

“Keep me company while I wait for my flight?”

He straightens so quickly the phone almost falls into his lap but he catches it just in time. And he tries to laugh but he thinks it might come out more like a sob. “Keep me company on the drive home?”

“Always,” Eddie says like they’re driving home from work after a long shift.

Buck switches his phone to speaker mode and looks down at the keys in his hand, at the keys to the loft, Maddie’s place and Eddie’s house respectively, considering his options before turning on the ignition.

“So there’s the guy at the gate-“ Eddie starts and Buck lets the sound of his voice wash over him. Allows himself just one singular moment where he closes his eyes and holds his hand to his chest before he pulls himself together and drives out of his space.

Eddie is offering him a play by play of the guy at the gate who’s insisting his luggage is not chirping and Buck gets his breath back enough to make a quip about how that made it through the security scanner.

When he reaches the freeway it takes hardly any thought at all for him to take the exit that’ll get him to the Diaz house fastest.

He’s going home after all.

~

[wikiangela]

knee-deep in the backseat (and you're eating me out)

8x06 fix it + car sex

rating: E words: 8.6k summary: Buck and Tommy's six month anniversary dinner ends with them getting busy in the backseat of Tommy's car.

[read on Ao3]

“Deal.” Tommy grins, that crinkly smile making Buck’s heart swell. God, he- he adores him. “No, for real, I had a great time tonight, sweetheart. And I have a feeling the night is about to get even better.” Tommy says, pulling at Buck’s hand to bring him closer, stopping them to press a kiss to his lips, just a few steps away from the car. “Oh, yeah?” Buck smiles, eyes scanning Tommy’s face, the hunger and desire clear as day, and perfectly mirroring the way Buck feels. He should’ve cooked for Tommy, actually. They should’ve stayed in, and had a shorter distance to the bedroom. Or just… no audience to do everything he wants to do all over his loft, or Tommy’s house. But, well, he wanted to take his man out, to the place where he screwed up their first date and make a better memory there, and to properly celebrate him and their relationship, so now he has to be patient… or does he? “Mhm. I think I was promised a gift? And something about opening me up?” He says, tone of voice like he’s not sure he’s remembering correctly. Buck laughs, his free hand sliding over to Tommy’s ass and giving it a squeeze. “Well, I’m a man of my word.” He says as he leans in, kissing Tommy again, this time deeper and longer, pressing his whole body against Tommy’s, just wanting, needing to be closer. He can already feel his dick hardening, eager for some fun with his boyfriend. “Then let’s go, baby.” Tommy whispers into his lips, trying to pull away, but Buck pulls him in for another biting kiss, pulling at his lower lip, licking into his mouth. “Evan.” Tommy chuckles, then a muffled moan escapes him when Buck grinds his hips against Tommy’s, their clothed cocks already hardening, anticipating a great continuation of the evening. “What? God, I can’t get enough of you.” He sighs into another kiss. Tommy eagerly kisses back for just a moment, before breaking the kiss. Buck tries his best not to pout. “We’re still in public.”  “So what?” Buck whines, and Tommy laughs breathlessly again. “What if I can’t wait until we get home?” He starts walking, pushing Tommy backwards, until his back hits the passenger door of the car. “What if I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t get your dick in my mouth right the fuck now?” “Jesus Christ.” Tommy closes his eyes, tilts his head back, takes a few deep breaths to compose himself. As if Buck’s gonna let him.

[read on Ao3]

[mintmatcha]

You fling yourself around the corner, catching the door frame with your hand to stay upright. Shinso doesn't jump; he heard you stomping from all the way down the hall.

"I'm late."

He doesn't look up from his duffle bag. He's arranging the clothes carefully, placing each rolled sock in a row. "How late?"

"No, like-" You roll your hands in the air expectantly. "Period late."

Shinso glances at your feet and watches how you bounce on your toes with excitement. With a sigh. he looks up at you, expression set.

"How late are you?"

You stop bouncing. "It was supposed to come last night."

Shinso groans as he stands, pushing off of his knee for support.

"But, it's different this time!" you insist before he can say anything. "I feel different."

He sucks on one side of his cheek, pulling a dimple into his skin. He's still boyish in his features, even after all these years. Carefully, he measures his words, saying your name ever so gently.

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up again just for it to be negative." He taps his house slipper against his bag. "Because you'll end up testing again the next day, then the next day, just make sure it's really negative-"

"Hitoshi-"

"I just don't want you to break your heart again."

This song and dance must be getting old for him. Every month, you get excited, only to see that little line once again. Hitoshi's right: it always breaks your heart.

You think, maybe, he mourns it too. Silently. Privately. It's hard to tell. He's not like you. He's not expressive or outspoken, but je's always there to hold your hand and try again.

"Let's just wait a couple days." Hitoshi, as if he knows what you're thinking, reaching up and takes your hand. "If you're still late, I'll buy you as many tests as you want."

You swallow down your disappointment.

"How many days?"

"When I come back from this mission." He counts on his fingers. "Three days?"

"Three days? I'm supposed to not know if I'm pregnant for three days?"

Hitoshi shrugs and kneels back down, tending to his things. "Some people don't know they're pregnant the whole pregnancy."

"That's different and you know it."

[gwemmieee]

Yeah. I have a big bone to pick with women who go out of their way to gatekeep someone out of our club. Most of them are cis and straight, but trans fems who do this unfortunately exist. That instance looks like some disgusting hypocrisy to me, because most baby trans fems really emotionally lean on the willingness of this community to emphasize that you are your gender and you are valid no matter how many steps you've already taken and been successful with. That is a crucial, supportive message, and suppressing it in any way is tantamount to pulling up the ladder behind you. Which, yeah, every community has its assholes who pull up ladders.

It is also a tough line to walk sometimes for women, because most of us have learned that there are certain ways we can't entirely just open up to most masculine folks and let them into our entire lives and every space. Not without a lot of pain. So we are incentivized to wait until someone makes it clear that they're safe, before they're let into our inner lives more. This function has caused me SO much strife, because before I was accepted as a woman, it kept me outside in the cold, alone, really close to an early grave, but now that I am fully living as a woman, and even before I was doing that, my efforts to ignore this function entirely and just let any masculine person into my heart, my inner world, and my safest spaces, have not always gone well, and sometimes those efforts have backfired, made me unsafe, and deeply traumatized me.

These days, the only conclusion I've been able to find is that women need to work on what we recognize as red and green flags, for who is safe. It's pretty easy to see that the average set of red and green flags you see most non-queer white women adhere to are... crap. Truly crap. Delusional, not based in reality, etc. And that sucks because it isolates them more and it gives them more excuse to be really shitty to people, or to gossip about them in ways that really aren't fair to them.

Earlier in my transition, I still had it internalized that I had had so much trouble because I wasn't good enough, because I didn't do enough, and that's why women didn't let me in. But I was literally running around freely saying out loud that I was genderfluid, that I had no concept of manhood and little concept of gender, that I thought it would be cool if I was born as a woman, that I wanted other pronouns to be used on me, that I could be pretty gay/queer, acting pretty gay/queer, openly rejecting most masculine behaviors and modes of thought, constantly openly celebrating femininity, experimenting with gender presentation... I was a very queer little dude. And I've only been able to recognize that in retrospect. Because nobody let me in. Trans fems may have let me in, but they weren't around much in the late 00s and early 10s. I never met one. But I did meet and usually deeply connect with countless fellow eggs, before any of us knew. In situations like mine, trans fems generally didn't even get to find themselves until a bisexual cis woman took it upon herself to date them as a perceived man, and then recognize their queerness and allow them to explore gender with her acceptance and assistance. Because being allowed into womanhood was so rare and taboo that it had to happen behind closed doors as part of a romantic relationship. I was aro/ace, and I unconsciously looked to get the same experience out of a platonic friendship, but all I got was led on. Told I was a close friend but still treated like a stray animal compared to their feminine friends. Not let in.

Meanwhile, cis women, and fem-raised queer folks who at the time universally saw themselves as, yknow proudly not quite men at least, universally treated me like a burly cis man deserving of none of their support or curiosity and all of their suspicion and gossip about how "he's creepy." Consistently. Until I finally came out as a woman in 2022. And that's so 100% on them. They went out of their way to not see me for who I was and just keep me out in the cold. So yeah. The state of gatekeeping of womanhood is *bad*. And in my experience, most of it comes from people who had/have easy access to unquestioned claims of womanhood, whether that's because they're AFAB or because their transition into womanhood was really fast and made them really conventionally attractive.

But what about trans fems? Well, we aren't perfect with our red and green flags, either. It's hard to be. Personally, I've noticed there is a small contingent (VERY small) of trans fems my age who operate more like the old world transsexuals in that they really are truscum gatekeepers, often also ableist, and borderline psychopathic in the level of emotional labor they expect from you as a friend vs. what they're willing to put up with in return. And that is very unfortunate. My early transition saw a lot of them genuinely help me as incredible new friends, but then hurt me badly and burn bridges for no good reason. And I feel that there is a bit of a schism in the trans fem community between elders who usually just want to stealth out--who look down on baby transes and cringe and don't help us, or even if they do talk to us and help, there is still a very clear line denominating their actual friends and community that we never get to cross into--and the rest of us who openly embrace being queer and not assimilating all the way. But, frankly? Most trans fems I've met are the most welcoming and least gatekeeping folks on the planet. Most are that latter, queerer camp. And we operate exactly the way that we should: we let anyone safe into our inner world, even if that safe person happens to be a man. And some of us STILL see that backfire. And so even we can't be completely carefree. But we can always learn and grow and get better and better at what we actually identify as red and green flags.

wait where are all the trans guys

Historical-anthropological research, especially the work taking place before the 21st century or outside the West, tends to focus entirely on transfeminized groups. So when reading these works it’s pretty natural to ask — wait, where are all the trans guys? This is a reasonable question with a few clear answers; this post is something quick I can point people to.

The central condition of transfeminized groups' absorption into feminist activism has been to accept a kind of symmetry with select TME groups through the understanding of trans femininity as "gender variance." Under this framework, transfeminized groups' social position can be understood as a consequence of gender variance and some abstract violation of cis norms; this was proposed by people like Susan Stryker and Emi Koyama [1], among others, and continues to structure trans inclusion today. It also fails when considering several basic aspects of these groups:

Transfeminized groups are associated with hyperspecific labor practices, most frequently sex work, but also hair styling, drag, makeup artistry, acting, and other forms of 'gender work.'

Metropolitan transfeminized groups appear in the archive as highly clustered and active groups connected with, but usually intensely split from, the masculine men they fucked.

Transfeminized groups become a kind of 'third gender' on an epistemic level; they are Known to wider society before and after “coming out” in a way that USAmerican transmasculinity has only recently vaguely approached.

Transfeminized groups are heavily clustered in labor practice, social organization, and epistemic position, although this is not universal -- certain strains of USAmerican transfemininity have become a bit more labor-agnostic in the last two decades, not-so-coincidentally alongside more general currents of gender-labor liberation. The messy strains of trans male identity recovered from the archive and from current practice tend to lack labor, social, and epistemic coherence. As Aaron Devor notes in FTM, his 1997 history of FTM men, trans men in the 20th century tended to transition out of cities and into the countryside, finding low-profile places they could exist in. These practices, and the earlier "female husband" practices described by Jen Manion, relied on the labor-agnostic nature of transitioned manhood in order to disappear from public life. Transfeminized groups, on the other hand, are categorically restricted from the main form of economic life historically available to women -- marriage. Their labor practices are heavily constrained and have almost always revolved around some form of 'gender work:' as Susan Stryker put it, you need to get people to pay you for being a trans woman. Transmasculinity pushes away feminized restrictions on labor; trans femininity is labor.

Because transfeminized identities are so often labor-identities, and because their specific brand of 'gender work' and hormonal/silicone/surgical embodiment usually requires both specialized training and community support, nearly every metropolitan center in the world developed highly centralized transfeminized groups over the course of the 20th century [2]. As Ochoa notes, this visibility is partially due to epistemic visibility (everyone knows what a trans is), partially due to group structure (people work and train each other), and partially due to the selectively visible demands of finding clients. Fledglings come in with a way of being that is always already visible to society, but changing the body to match and learning how to fully enact and slowly contest the third-gender labor-identity they've been given takes a lot of community support.

So as labor-identities, transfeminized groups tend to a level of labor/community/epistemic coherence that has no clear counterpart. The news archives we have of trans men (as seen in Manion) position them as singular and easily absorbed back into the female gestalt; the cisgender feminist/gayguy/AIDS researchers that form the bulk of historical-anthropological work saw them as unnecessary to their grand theories of gender; the communities themselves have been materially fractured and, for the groups that rise out of lesbian-feminist activism, only partially committed to their own existence. The result of all this is that there is no clear equivalent to the "transfeminized groups" of Jules-Gill Peterson; there is no symmetry to trannydom, and while additional work to unearth trans manhood in the archive remains extremely valuable, sometimes the necessary level of label-coherence and social existence just isn't there.

[1] Stryker, "My Words to Victor Frankenstein Above the Village of Chamounix: Performing Transgender Rage," Emi Koyama, "The Transfeminist Manifesto" [2] As seen in Namaste, Invisible Lives, Prieur, "Mema's House, Mexico City," Kulick, "Travesti," Newton, "Mother Camp," Ochoa, "Queen for a Day," Hegarty, "The Made-Up State," and plenty more. Most of these works came out in the late 80s and 90s due to a combination of the feminist "third gender" craze, the burgeoning field of masculinity studies, and AIDS.

[sun-kissy]

No worries if you don’t feel comfortable writing this, but Remus x reader who’s having an anxiety attack? I read the prompt below that made me think of this, and just want something just as sad to match. As much of a fluffy ending as you can pls :(

"Leave me alone!" She screamed, pushing away the only person that seemed to care about her.

thank you for your request, sweetheart!!

breathe | r.l.

tw: anxiety attack

remus lupin x reader

Remus wasn’t expecting to find you in a foetal position on your bedroom floor upon coming in. He had knocked on your front door a couple times, and when you hadn’t opened it, assumed you were using the bathroom and let himself in.

You had your legs folded up to your chest, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. He immediately knew there was a cause for concern, what with how your loud breaths got shallower as the seconds passed. Shaking like a leaf may have been a cliché phrase; but there was nothing else he could think of to describe you, frail and torn and trembling all over.

In your defence, you had no idea an anxiety attack was coming for you. One second you were doing the laundry, and the next it felt like someone had wrapped their hands around your neck and squeezed.

You had immediately staggered into your bedroom, which was a mistake — the walls of the small room seemed to close in on you, pressing and pushing until they reduced you to the tiny thing laying pathetically on your floor.

The sound of your heartbeat was deafening, all around you like the four walls of a cage. Panic was clogging up your throat, condensing into bile on the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t think. There were strategies that you had learnt, ways to calm yourself down. But your mind was shrouded in fear in the form of fog, dread in the shape of darkness. There was no escaping this.

“Hey,” a gentle voice says. An arm wraps around your shoulders, carefully pulling you up into a sitting position. Warm, calloused hands take your own. Remus.

It’s hard to hear him over the noise of your thrumming heartbeat. You lick your lips, over and over again. It doesn’t help; your voice is still stuck at the bottom of your throat. “I — I can’t —“

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he continues to rub the back of your palm, using his other hand to brush off the beads of sweat adorning your forehead. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You tried to locate Remus in the blurry pixels dotting your vision, but the best you could do was his silhouette.

“I can’t — I can’t find you,” you gasp desperately, breaths getting heavier.

“That’s okay, dove. I’ll find you.”

He brings your hand to his chest, splaying out his palm over yours. “We’ve got to slow down your breathing, okay? Can you do this with me?”

You feel his chest expand, before it settles back in its original position. Up, then down again. You don’t think you can do it, but for Remus, you’ll give it a shot.

Up, then down. Your heart squeezes when you try to breathe; like it’s nothing but a sponge. You open your mouth to tell Remus that, but the sponge in your chest makes its way to your throat. All you can do is shake your head pitifully.

Remus gives you a reassuring smile, his kindness endless. “That’s alright, you’re doing really well. Let’s try something easier, yeah? Help me out here. Find something… red, in this room.”

You turn your head, eyes darting around aimlessly. Your gaze locks on a blurry shape in the open dresser, which revealed itself to be a scarf when you squinted. You raise your hand, pointing at it with a trembling finger.

“Good job, dove.” A swift kiss to your forehead. “What about something blue?”

Blue. You swivel your head around. One more time, and you still can’t spot a thing. There’s nothing blue here, and you’re going to panic, and —

Blue. Your favourite colour. You immediately look down, fingers clenching around the crystal blue locket on your neck. The present Remus had given you for your sixteenth birthday.

“This — this locket?” you croak.

“You got it,” he murmurs reassuringly, giving your wrist a squeeze. “Last one, okay? Green.”

It was getting easier. You blink and your head seems a little lighter. “The plants, by the windowsill.”

“Well done, sweetheart.” He gives you a congratulatory peck on the top of your head, fingers sliding down to intertwine with yours. “Feeling better?”

You nod an affirmative, letting out a shaky breath as the tension seeps out. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he smiles softly. “Do you know what triggered it?”

You sigh, leaning back till your head hits the wall. Remus is quick to slot his hand in between, softening the blow as he slowly drops his arm. “I don’t know. I guess it was just the lack of sleep.”

“You need to take better care of yourself, dove. You’ve been overworking,” he sighs, moving his hand to rub circles on your knee.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for, lovely girl.” He starts to smile when you clamber forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “Just try to listen to your body more, yeah? And to me, of course.”

“Of course,” you mutter sarcastically, your lips curving upward. He grins, grabbing your hips and tugging until you’re straddling him. “That’s right. Now, how about you go take a warm bath and I’ll order us some pizza?”

“But I need to finish my —“

“Nope. What did I just tell you?”

You sigh loudly. “I gotta listen to you,” you grumble.

“Exactly. That’s my good girl,” Remus grins, fingers slipping under your T-shirt to rub the skin on your hips lovingly.

He helps you up and to the bathroom. He orders pizza, puts on your favourite movie, and smothers you with love. Remus was right; you were going to be okay.

[p0orbaby]

blurb idea- r is spanish and plays for arsenal, one day she finds leah on duolingo trying to learn spanish and finds it so sweet and leah is just emberrased and lalalla and then r convinces leah to let her teach leah spanish (sorry if it’s confusing😔😔)

it wasn’t confusing 🤍

-

The training ground is quiet, still wrapped in early-morning fog, and you don’t expect to hear anything but the hum of the groundskeeper’s mower. Instead, you catch a voice, stiff and deliberate, coming from the gym.

“Yo bebo… el agua?”

You pause at the door, peeking in. Leah’s standing by the weights, holding her phone at arm’s length like it might bite her. Her brow is furrowed, mouth moving around the clunky syllables like she’s trying to chew them into shape. You’re about to say something when she suddenly groans and yanks her headphones out. The familiar ding of Duolingo announcing another failed attempt echoes in the room.

“La niña’ what?” she mutters, more to herself than anyone else. She hasn’t noticed you yet. “How am I supposed to remember if she’s drinking milk or eating an apple? Who drinks milk anymore?”

“Leah?” you finally speak, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice.

Leah jumps, nearly dropping her phone. Her face turns pink immediately, the kind of flush that spreads to her ears and down her neck. “Oh, God. How long have you been standing there?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, even though you know perfectly well what you’ve walked into.

Leah groans, stuffing her phone into her hoodie pocket like the evidence of her crime can be erased. “Nothing”

You raise an eyebrow. “Nothing? Because it looked like you were arguing with Duolingo about la niña’s dietary habits.”

She flushes deeper, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing outright. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh? So you weren’t learning Spanish on the sly?”

“I—” she pauses, caught. “Alright, fine. I was. Happy?”

You grin, stepping into the room. “Why?”

She shrugs, looking everywhere except at you. “I thought it might… I don’t know, be nice? For you”

That catches you off guard. “For me?”

“Yeah.” She scratches the back of her neck, a telltale sign that she’s embarrassed. “Because, you know, you’re always switching between Spanish and English so easily, and I just thought maybe I could… I don’t know, keep up”

Your heart softens despite yourself. “You could’ve just asked me, you know. I’d have helped”

Leah shrugs, suddenly fascinated with the floor. “Didn’t want to bother you”

“You? Never a bother,” you say lightly, stepping closer. “But if you’d rather an app keep roasting you, be my guest”

Her gaze snaps to yours, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. “The owl’s ruthless, by the way. Keeps telling me I’m on the verge of linguistic failure”

You laugh, taking her hand and pulling her towards the weights bench. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll teach you Spanish, but you have to actually listen to me. None of this owl nonsense”

“Deal,” she says quickly, her grin breaking through the last of her embarrassment. “But only if you promise not to tell the team about this”

“Cross my heart,” you reply, though you’re already imagining the look on the rest of the teams faces if they found out.

You sit yourself on the bench next to her, and start to teach her the basics. As she repeats the words after you, her accent is a disaster, but the determination in her eyes is unmistakable. And when she finally gets a phrase right, the way she beams at you makes your chest feel warm.

If this is her way of showing how much she cares, you’ll take it. Even if it means enduring her tragic attempts at rolling her r’s.

[littleprinces]

Day 24: Tit Torture

Chaehyun x OC Reader

Kinkvember Day 24

Chaehyun was sitting at her favorite café. She was known for her big, perky tits that she often showcased in her low-cut tops. Today was no exception. She was sipping her latte, her eyes wandering over the latest issue of Vogue, when she felt someone approach her table.

"Mind if I join you?" a deep voice asked. Chaehyun looked up to see a tall, muscular man with shaggy blond hair and piercing blue eyes. "I'm Ethan," he said, smiling. "I couldn't help but notice you. You look stunning."

Chaehyun blushed, looking down at her coffee. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft. "I'm Chaehyun."

Ethan pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. "So, Chaehyun, what are you reading?" he asked, nodding towards the magazine.

"Just the latest Vogue," she replied. "I love fashion."

"Well, you certainly have the body for it," Ethan said, his gaze lingering on her chest. Chaehyun felt a thrill run through her at his blatant stare.

"You're not shy, are you?" she asked, smiling.

"Not at all," Ethan replied. "I say what I think. And right now, I'm thinking that you're the most beautiful woman I've seen in a long time."

Chaehyun felt her heart flutter. She wasn't used to such direct compliments. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Ethan reached out, his hand touching hers lightly. "Can I see you again?" he asked. "Maybe for dinner tomorrow night?"

Chaehyun felt a rush of excitement. She nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "I'd like that," she said.

Ethan's hand gripped hers tighter. "Good," he said, his voice low. "I promise, it'll be a night you won't forget."

The next evening, Ethan arrived at Chaehyun's apartment. He was dressed in a suit that accentuated his broad shoulders. Chaehyun opened the door, her eyes wide. "Wow," she said, taking in his appearance.

Ethan smiled, stepping inside. "You look amazing," he said, his eyes roaming over her body. She was wearing a tight, red dress that accentuated her curves.

"Thank you," she said, blushing.

Ethan reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet bag. "I brought something for you," he said, handing it to her.

Chaehyun opened the bag, her eyes widening as she pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs. "What's this?" she asked, her voice breathy.

Ethan's eyes darkened. "A little something for tonight," he said, stepping closer. "Do you trust me?"

Chaehyun nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes," she whispered.

Ethan took the handcuffs from her, dangling them in front of her. "Let's make this night memorable," he said, his voice low.

He led her to the bed, sitting her down. "Lie back," he said, his voice commanding. Chaehyun did as she was told, her heart racing.

Ethan knelt in front of her, his hands running up her legs. "You have beautiful tits," he said, his voice soft. "I want to touch them."

Chaehyun gasped as his hands reached her breasts, cupping them through her dress. "They're so big," he murmured, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

"Yes," Chaehyun moaned, arching her back. "They're sensitive."

Ethan smiled, his hands moving to the zipper of her dress. "Let's see them," he said, pulling the zipper down.

Chaehyun sat up, letting him slide the dress off her shoulders. She was left in just her bra and panties, her breasts heaving with anticipation.

Ethan reached behind her, unhooking her bra with one hand. Her breasts spilled out, her nipples hard and erect. Ethan groaned, his hands cupping them, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

"You have beautiful tits," he said, his voice hoarse. "I can't wait to torture them."

Chaehyun gasped, her eyes widening. "Torture?" she asked, her voice breathy.

Ethan smiled, his hands moving to her wrists. "Trust me," he said, securing the handcuffs around them. He then attached the other end of the handcuffs to the headboard.

Chaehyun was now spread-eagled on the bed, her breasts heaving with anticipation. Ethan smiled, his eyes dark with desire. "Now, let's have some fun," he said, his hands moving to her breasts.

He began to pinch and pull her nipples, his fingers twisting and tugging. Chaehyun moaned, her back arching, her hips writhing. "Yes," she gasped, "More."

Ethan smiled, his hands moving lower, sliding her panties down her legs. He threw them to the side, his eyes roaming over her naked body. "You have a beautiful pussy," he said.

He slap Chaehyun breast until it redden, He clamp chaehyun nipple and start to suck her nipples.

"Fuckk, Yes sir" Chaehyun groan

He still slap Chaehyun tits and make fun of them, he used rope for tie her breasts until his chest turned blue.

"Fuckk ahhh it so hurt" Chaehyun scream a loud as i play with her nipple clamp

"Sirr ahhhh" Chaehyun tries to freeing herself.

He slide her cock into her mouth and still play with her tied boobs.

His cock pulsing inside her as he came, filling her mouth with his cum.

Ethan smiled, his hands moving to her wrists. "Ready for round two?" he asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Chaehyun opened her eyes, her lips curving into a smile. "Yes," she said, her voice breathy. "But this time, I'm in control."

[prozacwhorehouse]

paparazzi | mgg x SNL cast member gf

Summary: comments from the paparazzi instill doubt in you, but Matthew is there as a voice of reason

this was a request but it got deleted when I was making edits so I hope this finds its way to that lovely person !

—————————————————————————

pre and post show paparazzi outside the studio wasn’t uncommon. but when speculation that you and Matthew were dating blossomed, they got more incessant and difficult to ignore. it seemed as if they were always around, with the intention of spotting the two of you and documenting it. they were constantly nagging for answers and details about your relationship, most specifically mentioning the age gap.

the both of you knew it’d would be hard for some people to understand, but the idea that you were both legal consenting adults seemed more logical and would be accepted easier. originally, you had kept the relationship private - wanting the intimate moments to be kept to yourselves, only for yourselves. eventually the love becomes to great to hide, so you started dropping hints to the public. hints weren’t enough, there were always the small few who liked to dig a little deeper, push sensitive buttons - almost always internet trolls, or worse, in person paparazzi.

no matter what, they’ll always jab at the age gap. it’s always flashing cameras followed by comments, from “your relationship is inappropriate” “she’s young enough to be your daughter” and even, “is you dating an older man rooted in daddy issues?”

a video of the interaction goes viral and all the comments are offering support for the two of you:

they are both consenting adults. those who can’t accept that need to grow up and mind their own business.

these poor angels. the paparazzi is disgusting, ill never understand why it’s still a thing

they’re both grown leave them the fuck alone

daddy issues?? holy shit. the pap is getting so much worse.

two talented people reduced to their relationship. do better

you knew accepting a job on television came with its consequences, but you weren’t going to let people who get paid to be nosy stand in the way of your dream. so, with time you had learned how to handle paparazzi with ease. what was typically praise now being sprinkled with hate, it got harder and harder to ignore.

because the more someone says something about you, the more you start to believe it.

why is he with me? is this weird? am i wrong? is he wrong?

Whenever Matthew happened to be with you during these paparazzi incidents, he’d always guide you through the crowd by the small of your back or your hand. Weaving through people wordlessly, only whispering assurances into your ear, squeezing your hand to calm your heart beating in your ears.

—————————————————————————

The whole ride home to your apartment is silent. With Matthew, you two are always talking, always sharing thoughts, making the occasional silence reason for concern.

“Are you okay? You din’t say more than a word or two at a time not the way home,” he says while shutting the apartment door behind him.

“Are we, wrong?” you turn to gaze up at him through your lashes, the look on your face hurt.

“What do you mean, angel?” he croons, concern and confusion blossoming across his face.

“Like,” you pause and scoff, trying to find the words for your question. “Is what we’re doing wrong. Being together.”

“Do you not want to do it anymore? Cause we don’t have to-” his face turns to worry, your heart dropping at the thought of him thinking you’d say anything other than no. because no matter what anyone says, he’s so in love with you he can’t even imagine losing you.

“no! oh my gosh, no.” you’re quick to assure, holding his face in your hands. it’s just exhausting. why are they so concerned with our lives? can they not just-“

“you love me?” he interrupts, looking at you intently.

“what?” you scoff in disbelief, pulling back slightly. “of course I do - why?”

“because I love you. And that’s all that matters, yeah?” he brushes his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes so lovingly. he always looks at you that way.

“It could be worse. They could be comparing me to Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smiles, causing the corners of your mouth to turn up, “and I’m definitely not DiCaprio level.”

“If you were, you would’ve dropped me when I turned 25,” you snicker and he sighs, throwing his head back.

“You’re funny, you know that?”

“I’d hope so. It’s kind of my job.”

—————————————————————————

mgg x SNL cast member taglist

@sarcasm-and-stiles @mystargirl-interlude @rubyirene @ashrrams @ghostatrixx @forevermorepassionate @saint-boudica @reidmarieprentiss @awakeforu @spencerlicious @kittycat-april @baudarling @delusional-4-fake-people @avenlymars @angelinajolie0213 @arusio @littleslayofhorrors @jezabelle9299 @jaemnationnn @princess-ofthe-pages @flow33didontsmoke

[hobby1008]

My sister

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

eunchae X M Reader

Tags: incest,oral

You are sitting on the living room sofa without wearing a shirt, your eyes fixed on the TV screen while the movie is playing. Suddenly, your lovely sister Eunchae sits next to you. She calls you with a lovely smile.

"What are you doing, oppa?"

You look at her and say, "I was watching TV because I was bored." She immediately leaned on your shoulder and sat down, and she looked up at you again and said, "If you're bored, come hang out with me. I'm bored too."

You smiled at her cute request and said, "What do you want to do, my Eunchae?"

She came closer to me and caressed the front of your shorts with her hand without a care. "I want to suck yours." You looked at her, surprised by her sudden attitude, but her eyes were already looking up at you with lust, . You couldn't believe that your lovely sister had such a thought, and you had to refuse, but her beautiful appearance and happiness made your mind harden at the thought.

You were getting more excited as you looked at Eunchae's lovely face, and she felt some kind of happiness at your reaction. You nodded shyly. Then Eunchae smiled. "I have to make my brother happy."

You can feel your heart flutter at her words and feel your dick slowly hardening and tenting your pants. Noticing that, Eunchae teases you by pushing your cheek with her tongue and smirks at the corners of her mouth.

A shy smile spreads across your face as you scratch your head. "Okay, yeah, that works for me," you agree.

"Okay, I'll make you the happiest, brother." Eunchae says with a loving smile. She quickly scans the hallway toward your parents' bedroom, checking to see if the shore is clean. As the door closes tightly, Eunchae quickly moves down between your legs and pulls your panties completely off.

Your rock-hard dick bounces, and Eunchae looks at you with a satisfied expression. "Wow, oppa, it's big here too." She muttered as she wrapped her soft, gentle hands around your thick dick.

Eunchae starts slowly, tracing your slit with the tip of her tongue, feeling the Cooper's fluid already beading on your glans. She looked into your eyes with your reaction and loving gaze.

"Fuck," you moan, your hips squirming involuntarily as her plump, glossy lips stretch around your swollen shaft. She slowly sinks down until your cock is buried in the moist, soft heat of her mouth.

"Oh fuck, Eunchae." You hiss through clenched teeth, running your fingers through her black hair. She shakes her head, swirling her tongue around your cock, licking you with her saliva.

"Fuck, it feels so good Eunchae." You moan, holding back the urge to place both hands on her head and use her face. Eunchae moans around your cock, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Eunchae aligns her vacuum mouth with your cock, moving her head back and forth as she looks at you, her skills sloppy but loving smile for you and doing her best for you is more satisfying than any other situation. Beautiful and happy.

You groaned and wiggled your hips slightly. "Fuck, Eunchae. You're so pretty and lovely, and you feel so good."

She blushed even more at your compliment, and she shyly lifted her lips from your dick. "If you like it, I like it too." You were so happy and glad to hear her words, you stroked her head.

"Suck it again." You smiled, reaching out and tying her hair into a makeshift ponytail. "It feels so good, Eunchae."

Eunchae opened her mouth again and put your dick in her mouth and started sucking it. Eunchae's caressing was so good and exciting, but there was a little regret, so you stroked her head and said, "Eunchae, it feels so good, but can you do it harder? If you do it like this, it'll take a long time to cum." Eunchae started sucking it even harder at your words. Although not skilled, you used your tongue and hand to caress your dick and balls.

"Yes, Eunchae, do it more like that." You moaned, gripping her hair tightly. She smiled at you and swirled her tongue through the saliva coating your dick.

"Do you like it like this, oppa?" She muttered in a low, sensual voice. "I can do anything for you, oppa, so tell me as much as you want." She You said, sucking your balls and caressing your cock with your hands,

You guided Eunchae to your cock, desperately wanting her mouth to be around you more. “Keep doing this with your mouth,” you growled. “Keep touching my balls with your hands too.”

Eunchae opens her mouth and swallows your cock whole, her throat muscles spasming around your swollen cock until she gags and growls.

“Fuck, fuck!” You scream, your head falling back as you feel the soft, spongy velvet around your cock. The knot in your stomach tightens and the pressure builds in your groin.

Eunchae buzzes around you, the vibrations sending electric jolts of pleasure through your body. She’s pushing you dangerously close to the edge. Her passion is hotter than anything else in the world.

“You don’t have to do that, Eunchae.” Your fingers stroke her hair. She said while stroking, and Eunchae smiled at you and said, “I want to make you feel good, oppa, so just feel it, oppa.”

You loved the way Eunchae looked so much.

Eunchae used her lips again to seal tightly around your cock, and her throat tried to swallow every last blast of your thick, salty cum. You could hear her gulping it down without wasting a single drop.

“Ugh, fuck.” You moaned, your voice hoarse with pleasure. It felt like her mouth was sucking all of you, and his passion was truly amazing.

This whole situation was crazy. Your sister was kneeling between your legs, eagerly taking your load into her mouth. But Eunchae’s love for you easily broke down the barrier between them.

Finally, your orgasm subsided, and Eunchae pulled away from your cock, which had become soft with a lewd pop sound. She opened her mouth and spit out cum

"Did you like it? Oppa, you came out so much," she said, biting her lower lip.

You let out a shaky laugh, still a little breathless from the intensity of your orgasm. "Damn, Eunchae… I feel like I just went to heaven," you joked. "That was the best I've ever felt."

Eunchae smiled with the same innocent and happy smile at your words,

and said, "I'm happy because I see you enjoying it so much," and sucked out all the cum left in your cock.

You let her play with your cock, admiring the way her lips wrapped around you. "You're such a sweetheart, Eunchae, do you know that?" you mumbled, your eyes looking at her beautiful face.

Eunchae with a jealous look. "I'm jealous of your girlfriend. You can suck your dick all the time and make your boyfriend happy." You said.. "No, Eunchae, you can make me happy too. I'll look forward to it." Eunchae looked at you with a happy smile.

After she washed your body clean, she put the cloth back on your legs while you were standing.

Then Eunchae kissed your cheek and said, "If you want more, just tell me anytime, oppa." She shyly disappeared into her room.