#authors note they are both trans:)

[yourlocalcorviddad]

Dead on main teacher/single parent au? If you're still doing them :D

Hi there! Sure am! You're the only one who's sent one so far lol.

Alright, Dead on Main, parent/teacher huh?

Update: I started writing this when you sent it, but got busy and forgot to finish it, this is what I have so far! Anyone can add to this if they want!

Danny sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face, walking into the building, always uneasy in school buildings after usual school hours, call it trauma or old instincts but he'd never gotten comfortable in them.

But Dante had gotten into a fight during English and Ellie had jumped in to help, so the teacher had left him a voice message asking him to come by the school.

"Hi, Professor Todd?"

Danny poked his head in the room with the correct door number he'd been provided to go to. Dante and Ellie looked up at him and grinned at him unrepentantly.

Well, Ellie did, Dante just looked unrepentant, chin jutted out, but both of them had their heads raised defiantly, shoulders set, even as Dante had a bruise peeking out from under an ice pack on his cheek, and Ellie had the tell tail signs of a nose having been bloodied and a split lip that was already, to his keen sight at least, starting to heal.

"Hi mom.""sup mom." Dante and Ellie greeted.

The snort of amusement from behind the desk drew Danny's gaze from his wonderful, amazing, chaotic neverborn children to the teacher behind the desk finally. He wasn't going to say that the man wasn't a sight worth a 20 year voyage, but he kept himself composed other than a sheepish grin.

"Mr. Fenton I'm guessing?" Professor Todd motioned to the chair between the two kids before offering his hand to shake.

"Dr, actually, but yeah that's me. Just call me Danny, please, professor." He took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake, noticing the callouses not often found on academics but not minding it.

"Just call me Jason then. I presume you heard the message then. Since then we've had a few more updates about Dante and Ellie's fight and while they will still be being suspended for the way the fight ended up going," Jason started, a file in front of him being opened and a set of papers with various notes on then in it becoming visible. "But they will not be the only ones."

"Damn right we aren't! They were hateful biggots and I regret nothing!" Ellie cheered, fist pumping in the air as she did so.

On his other side, Dante snorted but grinned in a feral way Danny recognised as very much his own, "I only regret not punching harder."

The sigh let out by both Jason and Danny at that had a snicker and a grin gotten in response from Ellie and Dante.

"Right, be that as it may, your determination to protect your classmates from discrimination is admirable, as is stepping in when you did. But please, next time just come get me or another instructor or adult." Jason's request was met with a nod and a grumbled agreement.

[myfaceaches]

Okayyy gn

[communistkenobi]

A newborn baby girl will have to go through life with the wrong sex on her birth certificate after a registrar’s error, which her parents have been told they cannot change. Grace Bingham and her partner, Ewan Murray, were excited to register their first child at the Sutton-in-Ashfield Registration Office in Nottinghamshire last week. But, after nights of broken sleep, they failed to notice the registrar had written the wrong sex on the birth certificate until after it had been submitted. “We were horrified but assumed that, as we saw the mistake just a few seconds after it had happened, correcting it would be an easy matter,” said Murray. “But although the registrar apologised for her mistake – and the area manager also apologised – it turns out that birth certificates can’t be changed.”

this article is interesting because it demonstrates that cis people can very easily apply structural thinking to sex assignment - this couple immediately identifies that their daughter, having mistakenly been assigned male at birth by the registrar, will have administrative problems in employment, education, travel, and so on. they pretty adeptly identify the foundational role that sex assignment plays in the administrative and civil functions of a state, and how incorrect sex markers effectively produce a ‘rational’ reason for discrimination within these administrative and civil arenas:

The General Register Office (GRO), which is responsible for administering all civil registration in England and Wales, and the Home Office have both confirmed that Lilah’s birth certificate cannot be reissued, although an amendment can be made in the margin of the original document. But Bingham said this is not enough. “People reading a birth certificate might easily miss a tiny note in the margin – which means that Lilah could be regarded as male when she applies for school, her passport, for jobs – for everything that she needs a full birth certificate for.”

And given that this was published in The Guardian, this article makes zero mention as to why it’s impossible for this couple to receive an updated birth certificate with correct information (something the author notes was possible to do a year ago), but the reason is obviously transphobia. 

Now one might ask why there’s no exception for cis people whose birth certificates were recorded incorrectly at birth, but this reveals the instability of cissexualism. How would you determine who is a cis person with a mistaken birth certificate, versus a trans person who wants to change their mistaken sex assignment record? Sure, you could say well, this is an infant, of course she’s “really” “biologically” female (something the parents argue in the article as grounds for having their child’s birth certificate re-issued), but 1) that certainly can’t be argued for in all cases, 2) 'biological sex' is understood by medical doctors as alterable through hormones and surgery, which trans people are often required to undergo in order to change their records, and 3) binary sex assignment is already imprecise and discretionary, particularly if infants have sex characteristics that don’t conform to binary F/M assignment standards (which is part of how the category of intersex emerges, framing this failure to conform to state census categories as a biological defect - and in fact, many intersex people do not discover they are intersex until the onset of puberty or later, at which point they are even less in luck if they want to change their sex assignment - and if they don’t, if they are cis but have sex characteristics that do not conform to cis standards, they will be discriminated against anyway). 

Even setting aside the issue of transgender and intersex people for a moment, states fuck up all the time in administration! you've probably either experienced this directly or know someone who's had some kind of record fucked up by the government at some point in their life. If you get married they could fuck up changing your last name, fuck up your disability status, record your social insurance number wrong, print the wrong address on your driver’s license, fail to acknowledge you as a dependent when filing taxes, incorrectly mark you as having graduated when you’re still a student, fuck up your immigration paperwork, record your name wrong during immigration, etc etc into infinity, and this is not even getting into errors that occur when different levels of government pass information between one another. This level of administrative rigidity is purely to punish people who fail to perform cissexualism correctly, and in the case of this couple's child, the administrative error of the state is imputed to them as a personal failure that she and her parents will now have to deal with for the rest of their lives. 

I think the ultimate analysis is not that transphobia will become less precise and hit more "wrong" targets as it expands its reach, but that this is the exact same operational logic as all other liberal state measures - if you encounter a systemic issue, it’s your fault for not avoiding it, fuck you, go away. You’re poor because you’re lazy, you’re unhoused because you’re lazy, you’re disabled because you’re lazy, and your daughter is now administratively transsexual because you’re lazy. In this case, we don’t even need to assume the intentions of the state - they outright say it:

The family complained to the GRO but was told the mistake was their responsibility and could not be fully rectified. “The duty to ensure that information recorded in any particular entry is true is the responsibility of the person providing the information and not of the registrar general or the registrar recording the birth,” the GRO said.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

if i die tonight, imma make it look pretty

ft; haruka sakura, hayato suo, tasuku tsubakino, ren kaji

synopsis ; how do they feel when you wear makeup?

cw ; reader wears makeup, mentions of violence

note ; about tsubaki's gender, they use the term "watashi" in japanese to describe themself, which is used by men and women. however, the official english translators use male pronouns for them. i've seen a lot of people say that they're a male who crossdresses; that's also my personal hc, but i know that a lot of people believe that tsubaki is a trans woman, and i would also like to respect their opinion, so i will therefore be using they/them pronouns for tsubaki. please tell me if there is something that the author confirmed about tsubaki's gender that i missed!

sakura doesn't really understand why you wear makeup. he thinks you look perfect either way; you could wake up at 5 in the morning with dried drool running from the side of your mouth to your cheek and messy bed hair and he'd still think you look perfectly fine. your makeup bag on his lap, he picks up your makeup items one by one, careful to not drop them or break them. while you're applying the makeup on, you're describing to him what each one does as his eyebrows just furrow. one to make your lips a different color, one to make your eyelashes blacker...why? you already looked beautiful. but he did have to admit; he found his eyes lingering on your concentrated face applying makeup more than he really should have.

suo doesn't really care what you wear as long as it doesn't affect your health or as long as you don't feel uncomfortable with it. he can fight, both verbally and phsyically, so you can cake your entire face in makeup or wear no makeup at all and suo would just smile at you and tell you how beautiful you are. really, it has no effect on him. it's your body and face, so it should be your choice. he doesn't mind it either way. with lipstick, your lips are just a little bit redder. with mascara, your eyelashes are just a little bit fuller. physically, it doesn't affect him. there's not much of a difference, so he could care less. but the glimmer in your eye after you finish and admire your face in the mirror, the confident stride you have when walking...that was what suo loved to see.

tsubaki loves it when you wear makeup. they help you apply it often, complimenting you on how cute and pretty you look. you both go out shopping at makeup stores often, finding shades that match each other and new brands that you both might like. you guys share makeup all the time, and you both love to match eyeshadows and lipstick color. of course, after makeup, you both do skincare together, often inviting kotoha over for a sleepover. of course, if there's ever a time when you don't want to wear makeup, tsubaki would never force you. as much as they love applying makeup together with you, they love your own happiness and comfort just as much. but if you ever need help with anything makeup related, you know who to go to.

kaji despises it when you wear makeup. hates it. despises it. dislikes it. whatever word you want. he just doesn't see the point; you already look fine--no scratch that. you look more than fine; you're beautiful--so why are you spending pointless amounts of money on something that'll take too long to apply and only changes the color of your lips and skin? there was no point. he hated this. plus, whenever you're wearing lipstick and you snatch the lollipop that he was currently sucking on and suck on it for a while before giving it back, your lipstick always stained a circle of red around his lollipop. plus, you look strangely unnatural when you're wearing makeup, and he doesn't like that. he loves you when you're not actively wearing as much makeup as a circus clown.

this was so awkward to write because i've only ever worn makeup twice in my entire life🧍‍♀️

[vktrjyce]

tell me that i'm what you need

a jayvik college au

length: 6.8k

author's note: them in a college au has been rotting in my brain since I finished act 3, and i had to write it. it's completely self-indulgent and i understand that and i do not apologize. i have TONS more ideas for this so if it gets enough traction maybe i'll write more LMAOOO. jayvik has their hooks in me good you guys. anyways, thanks so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave likes and comments! i'd love to hear any feedback or thoughts :) have a great day!!

there is also a playlist that goes along with this fic!

tags: college party ; weed smoking ; trans viktor ; sub jayce talis ; dom viktor ; college au ; shotgunning ; making out ; sexuality crisis ; first meeting ; viktor is hot and confident and jayce loves it ; they're both idiots

warnings: sexual content, weed smoking

summary: Jayce goes to a party with Caitlyn and gets more than he bargained for when he meets a handsome stranger in the basement.

originally posted by vktrjyce

Jayce followed Caitlyn into the overflowing house, wincing at the music pounding against his skull. Three different people bumped into him in the foyer alone, the third spilling an obscene amount of beer on his shoes. He grimaced, waved away the guy’s half-assed apology, and attempted to adjust to the stickiness. It felt a little like he’d surpassed his age of enjoying parties like this. Or maybe he simply needed to be with the right crowd. 

This did not feel like his crowd. 

“Cait!” He shouted over the music, grabbing his companion’s arm. She turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “This is really how you want to spend your Friday night?” 

She pressed her lips into a thin line and leaned towards him, “Vi invited me! I couldn’t exactly say no.” 

He overdramatically rolled his eyes, a knowing smile on his face, “So your girlfriend’s the partying type?” 

Caitlyn’s own eyes widened, her cheeks going slightly pink, “She’s not my girlfriend! Yet…” She shook her head, dark blue strands swaying back and forth, “And her sister threw this party. She’s just along for the ride.” 

“Mmhmm.” Jayce scanned the crowd, looking for a head of hot-pink hair he’d only heard about in stories, “So, where is she?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t see her from he-” 

“Cupcake!” A muscled arm landed on Caitlyn’s shoulders, simultaneously knocking her into Jayce’s side. The owner of said arm had the exact hair he’d been on the lookout for. Also, the ‘Vi’ tattooed on her face was sort of a dead giveaway, “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” 

Caitlyn looked over at Vi, a pleasant smile sliding across her face. She leaned into the woman, “What, and leave you to your own devices? I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue.” 

“You think so low of me. I’m hurt.” Vi teased, before her eyes landed on Jayce, “Who’s this?” 

Caitlyn answered before he had a chance to, “This is Jayce Talis. I’ve told you about him.” 

Jayce, in turn, offered a polite smile and a small wave. 

“So, this is the brainiac?” Vi gave him a once-over, pursing her lips, “Quite the pretty boy, isn’t he?” 

He choked out a slightly embarrassed chuckle, resisting the urge to rub at the back of his neck. His Mother always scolded him for having such an obvious nervous tick. 

“Don’t say that, it’ll go right to his head.” Cait retorted, giving her friend a knowing look, “And it’s big enough already.” 

The man barked out a laugh, “There’s better ways to show off than making fun of me, you know.” 

Once again, her eyes widened, “I wasn’t-” 

“Aww, are you trying to seduce me with your stuck-upness?” Vi cooed, pinching Caitlyn’s cheek. Though she scrunched up her nose, she didn’t pull away from the touch, “If you are, it’s working.” 

“You’re an idiot.” She deadpanned, and then looked back at Jayce, “You both are.” 

“I guess you attract them.” He winked at her. 

“I like this guy. He’s not all prude and stiff like most of the people you introduce me to.” Vi commented, grinning, “We could have some fun together, pretty boy.” 

“The feeling’s mutual, Vi.” 

“I don’t know, the thought of you two together doesn’t sit well with me.” Caitlyn piped up, “And I absolutely do not want to be demoted to third-wheel.” 

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that.” Jayce gave her a knowing look, sending her gaze to the floor. So he turned it on Vi. She smirked in response. 

“You guys want a drink? The kitchen’s stocked with all kinds of stuff.” She offered, pulling Caitlyn closer to her.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink.” His friend responded. She looked at Jayce with a warning on her face. He was no longer welcome in the group. 

He heard her loud and clear. 

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go mingle for a bit.” He told them, taking a step back, “We’ll meet back up later.” 

Caitlyn’s look turned grateful, eyes sparkling in the strobe lights. Vi nodded at his declaration. 

“Alright, see you later, then.” She bid him adieu, turning Caitlyn (presumably) towards the kitchen. 

As they walked away, he heard his friend ask, “Where’s Jinx?” 

“Somewhere causing problems, probably. I think she was trying to make fireworks or something.” Vi’s response came, and then they were out of earshot. And Jayce was all alone. 

He shifted his weight, patted his hands against his pants, and then decided he should do something. Something other than standing in the middle of this room. Watching the party go on without him. Like a loser. 

He sucked in a deep breath and moved further into the house. 

People were dancing, mingling, playing games, and making out on practically every available surface. He could only imagine what others were getting up to in the non-public spaces. He’d had his own fair share of trysts in his younger days. Now, though, he much preferred a quiet night in or hyperfocusing on a new project. Cait always teased him for ‘turning into an old man.’ 

Maybe she had a point. Just a little bit. 

It took Jayce a 10-minute conversation with Salo and another 15 minutes of standing against a wall before the noise and the lights became too much. He was uncomfortable, on his way to overstimulated, and in desperate need of a small respite. So he went looking for one. 

All the bedrooms were… occupied. The bathroom, when not occupied, was more of a cesspool of untoward activity than a sanctuary. The backyard was just as loud as anywhere else. All that left him with was the closed basement door. Which had an eccentric, bright pink ‘Stay Out!!!’ spray-painted on it. 

He did feel bad about ignoring the warning, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Jayce opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him. The immediate quiet, even with the muffled music through the wall, sent relief through his body. He sighed and walked down the stairs. About halfway down, a familiar skunk-like smell wafted its way up to him. But since he’d already committed, he simply wrinkled his nose and kept going. 

He stepped off the final stair, turned the corner, and took a look around the room. 

It was a typical basement- a couple of couches, a TV, a coffee table, and various movie and show posters on the walls. The lights were off, save for a warm-colored lamp on the table. None of it was out of the ordinary. Nothing particularly caught his eye. 

What did gain his attention, though, was the man on the couch. 

Pale and lanky, long brown hair with strands of blonde pulled into a low bun, clad in a burgundy cardigan and black sweats with a leg brace on the right knee. Only his side profile was visible from here, showing off a long nose and sharp cheekbones. A beauty mark sat above his thin, pink lips, which were currently wrapped around a half-smoked joint. His long lashes fluttered closed as he inhaled, pulled the joint from his mouth, and laid his head back against the couch. One long finger tapped against it. 

Jayce was, for one moment, very taken aback. If this guy was a girl, he’d be stunning.

“Uh-” He grunted out, like an idiot. 

The man’s eye opened, iris sliding in his direction. No other part of him moved. He exhaled the smoke and closed his eye again, “The bathroom is upstairs, on the second level. At the end of the hall.” 

As if this stranger’s looks weren’t enough of a shock, his words came out accented. It sounded Russian, or maybe Czech. It made him sound melodic, like voicing an elegant song instead of speaking. Jayce found himself wanting to hear more. 

“Oh, no, I, uh-” Jayce cleared his throat, then tried again, “Sorry, I was actually just trying to find a quiet place for a minute. All the noise was… it was a little much.” 

The man’s eyes opened again, and this time he turned his head towards Jayce. The latter discovered two distinct things at that moment. 

One, he had another beauty mark. Under his right eye, lighter than the one above his mouth. 

Two, the attractiveness increased tenfold when he saw his whole face. A few strands of his hair had fallen out of the bun and framed his face. Seriously, he could be a model or something.

The stranger raised a thick, dark eyebrow, “Why come to a party if the party is going to be ‘a little much’?” 

“Well, that’s not-” He scoffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, “I didn’t- I came with a friend, so.” 

Piercing golden eyes watched him with mild curiosity, “And where is your friend now?” 

“She’s with her- you know what? It doesn’t matter.” Jayce shook his head, feeling a little disgruntled, “You’re the one hiding down here all by yourself.” 

“Well, I live here. I can’t exactly escape the party.” He explained, tilting his head from side to side, “This was supposed to be my safe haven.” 

Jayce ignored the last part, partly out of stubbornness, and responded with a question, “You live here? I thought Vi’s sister was the host.” 

“Jinx.” The man explained, looking away. It gave Jayce a chance to take a deep breath. He felt like a bug under a magnifying glass with those eyes on him, “And she is. She’s my roommate. One of them.” 

“Jinx? What kind of a name is that?” He chuckled. 

There was no response. Only a noncommittal shrug as he lifted the joint to his lips once again. A motion by which Jayce found himself hypnotized. The slender fingers holding it, the way his lips pursed as he inhaled, the twitching of his eyelids. It looked so natural- as simple as breathing. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t realize the man’s gaze was on him again. 

“Do you want some?” He asked, jolting Jayce out of his trance and offering the weed up. 

He could feel his face heating up, both from being caught staring and from the offer. He’d had weed a couple of times in the past, but it never ended well. Whether it be not knowing his own limits or peer pressure, he always went too far and got too anxious to enjoy it. He was open to it, but that didn’t stop him from feeling nervous. A familiar emotion right now. 

“Oh, I uh- I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

The man smiled, just a small thing, but it made a certain softness take over his face, “A little late for that, no?” 

His cheeks were sure to be bright red now. He laughed nervously. 

The good-looking stranger shook his head, gesturing for Jayce to come closer, “I’m joking. Come. The company might be nice.” 

“Are you sure?” The question came out hesitant, but he was already moving over to the couch. Something about the way this guy spoke made him feel compelled to listen.

However, that could be the sleep deprivation talking. Or he’d finally lost it. Both were possibilities. 

“I find you… intriguing.” His new acquaintance told him, watching as he sat on the opposite side of the couch, “Besides, you said you needed a moment of quiet.” 

“I guess that’s true.” He shrugged, “Thanks. I appreciate it.” 

“Mm.” Humming, he offered the joint to Jayce once again. This time, he took it. 

It was only then that he realized there was a cane resting next to the man. Silver with a red and gold handle, decorated with graffiti that matched the ‘keep out’ sign on the door. He wondered if it was the stranger’s doing, but that felt unlikely. It didn’t seem like his style. 

Jayce took a drag, forcing himself not to cough as the marijuana burned all the way down. He really was not used to this sensation. The only thing worse than the burn, though, would be looking like a fool in front of this interesting guy he’d just met. He had to play it cool. 

God, he was such a loser. 

“You’re supposed to exhale it, you know.” The man spoke up, amusement lacing that magnetizing accent. It was just shy of patronizing, which strangely made his stomach coil.

This entire interaction was making Jayce’s head spin a little bit. 

He let the smoke out in one quick breath, which immediately sent him into a coughing fit. He hunched over himself, hitting a fist against his chest in an attempt to clear the pipe. He didn’t think this could get any worse. Either the humiliation or the coughing would kill him. A death that he’d happily embrace. 

“There, there. Easy.” A hand rested on his back, lithe fingers rubbing into the muscles, “You haven’t smoked much, I see.” 

Jayce barely noticed the hand on him, too preoccupied with trying not to die. He shook his head, letting out a hoarse, “Not really.” 

“Here.” The joint was taken from his hand and replaced with a glass of water, “Drink.” 

He didn’t hesitate to chug half of it. Then he slumped back against the couch, eyes closed as he took a few deep breaths. The burn had subsided, leaving only a bit of irritation in his throat. At the very least, he’d stopped coughing. Small victories. 

“Are you alright?” 

Jayce looked over at the stranger- his savior, in a way- and froze. Those amber eyes were locked on him, rimmed with red, and hungry. That feeling in his chest tightened, making him feel on edge. 

He swallowed, “Yeah. Yeah, uh, sorry. I don’t- I’m sorta new to this.” 

The man tucked some hair behind his ear and laid his arm over the back of the couch. His hand was only a few inches away from Jayce’s face. 

“Was this your first time?” 

“No.” He shook his head, “I’ve done it a couple times before. Just… not in a while.” 

“I see.” He picked at a loose thread sticking out of the cushion, “Did you enjoy it? In the past?” 

Jayce’s mind was starting to feel foggy. He pursed his lips, “It wasn’t bad. I think I just… I did too much too fast. Got in over my head.” 

“Mm, you seem like the type.” The man’s fingernails were painted black, the polish chipped, “To get in over your head, that is.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled lazily at his new friend, “What about you?” 

The man shook his head immediately, “Definitely not. I am always calm and collected. Just don’t ask anyone close to me for a second opinion on that.” 

That made him laugh. He laid a hand over his stomach, head tilted back. When he looked back at the stranger, still chuckling, there was something close to admiration on the guy’s face. Again, his stomach did a flip. What a strange way this night was going. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, voice deeper and accent more prominent. 

“Jayce.” He responded, “Jayce Talis. You?” 

“Viktor.” The man told him, and it was perfect. He couldn’t think of a better-fitting name. 

“It’s nice to meet you. Even if I made a complete fool of myself with the weed.” 

Viktor snorted out a laugh, taking another hit from the joint. He made it look effortless, “Not at all. You’re new to it. I’ve been doing it for a long time.” 

“You never get sick of it?” 

“Never. It helps too much. With the, eh, pain. And, you know, it quiets the mind.” 

“Right.” He gestured to the leg brace, “I don’t wanna pry, but I assume that’s what you’re talking about.” 

“Well, there are worse ways to be nosy.” He responded, screwing up his lips, “You’d be right, though. It’s my bad leg. I was born with it.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jayce blurted, because he felt like an idiot. The weed definitely wasn’t helping with his stupidness, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, that’s fair. I just don’t want you to feel pressured.” 

“My hero.” Viktor deadpanned, rolling his pretty eyes, “Can you feel it yet?” 

Jayce furrowed his brows, “Feel- oh, the weed?” 

The other man nodded in confirmation. 

“A little. I don’t think I had much, honestly.” 

“Do you want more?” 

“And have another coughing fit? I can’t take more embarrassment, Viktor.” 

He chuckled, “You’ll survive. And we can try another way to get it down for you.” 

“Another way? Like what?” 

Something mischievous had crossed over his face, which was slightly scary, “I believe most people call it, uh… shotgunning. Have you heard of it?” 

Jayce most definitely had. And the prospect was simultaneously intriguing and panic-inducing to him. 

Viktor was nice and funny, and he was good-looking. But shotgunning was sort of… an intimate thing? In a way? The kind of thing you did when you wanted to get up close and personal with someone? 

Was that what Viktor wanted? Was he coming onto Jayce? 

If he was, well, that was flattering. But Jayce wasn’t really… he’d done stuff with men before. The typical college, experimenting stuff. And it was fine- wasn’t terrible. But he didn’t think that was really… him. 

But he was also a little high. And spiraling. And he was having a good time with Viktor and he didn’t want it to end. 

So what the hell? Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?

“Yeah, I- I think I have.” He spoke, finally giving in and rubbing at the back of his neck, “We could give it a shot. If you want.” 

“Excellent.” Viktor patted the empty spot next to him, “Come.” 

Jayce followed the order with no hesitation. Like a dog obeying the commands of his master. Something about it made the other man’s eyes light up, much to his confusion. 

“So, how are we-” 

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. The words were cut off as Viktor slid onto his legs, seating himself right on Jayce’s lap. It sent his brain, his heart, his whole body into overdrive. It didn’t even occur to him to move him, though. He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe. Not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely slightly unnerving.

Friends could do stuff like this, right? 

Did Jayce even want to just be friends? Was there something more here? 

Viktor smelled like weed, cinnamon, and old paper. It drew him in with every breath.

Jayce, even with his sluggish mind, was coming to a semi-realization. While he couldn’t be sure how true it would feel in the light of day, it felt true now. Which could mean tons of things, honestly. 

Jayce was realizing that he liked this feeling. He liked the buzzing under his skin, the fogginess behind his eyes. He liked the weight of Viktor on him, liked the smell of Viktor, liked Viktor. Something about him was just so magnetizing. It made him nervous. This whole thing did. But he found that he didn’t really mind it. 

This was surely a crisis in the making. Something to be dealt with and reflected on in the sober light of day. He could analyze every move, second-guess every word and every reaction. He could take the time to nitpick his feelings until everything was clear. But right now, that didn’t matter. 

Right now, he felt good. And he wanted to keep doing what felt good. That should be simple enough. 

He nodded to himself. Literally. He probably looked like a freak to his companion. If he did, he garnered no reaction. 

“Open your mouth,” Viktor told him, raising the joint to his lips. 

Fuck. A cacophony of not-appropriate things flitted through his mind in reaction to the words. Not on purpose.

“Wait-” He heard himself saying, which was the opposite of what his heart (and his dick) wanted him to do. Apparently, his head still had the wheel. 

Jayce rested his hands on Viktor’s hips to stop him. Even through the thick cardigan, the latter’s hip bones were prominent. It made something twist unhappily in Jayce’s chest. 

Viktor did wait, pausing with a raised eyebrow and the weed an inch or two from his mouth. 

“A-are you okay like this?” Jayce stuttered out, looking up at the star of his current dilemma, “Your leg-” 

The questioning look on Viktor’s face turned to amusement, and he tilted his head, “That’s what you’re worried about? You idiot.” 

The word didn’t even sting like it would’ve from anyone else. It sounded like an endearment more than anything. 

“My leg is fine.” He hummed, resting a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. The weight was nice, soothing, “I’ve lived with it all my life. I know what I can handle.” 

Did weed have some sort of magical attraction properties? The sensation in his chest certainly felt like something out of a fairytale. 

“Okay.” Jayce exhaled shakily- again, not on purpose, “Okay. I just wanted to check.” 

“How kind of you.” That hand left his arm, coming back a moment later as Viktor grabbed his chin. He squeezed lightly, causing Jayce’s lips to pucker, “Are you ready?” 

Jayce nodded eagerly, giggling. Any harder and his head probably would’ve snapped off. 

Viktor gave him a look of approval that made his lungs ache, “Inhale when I exhale. Yes?” 

He swallowed, “Yes.” 

The man half-smiled, gave him a little nod, and took a long drag. It looked so easy, so beautiful, when he did it. Which was a strange thing to think. A strange action to find beautiful. But it was, nevertheless. 

Jayce parted his lips when Viktor lowered his hand, watching with expectant eyes as the man leaned toward him. Their noses brushed, sending a tingle through his skin. His breath hitched, and then the smoke was blown into his mouth. He closed his eyes and inhaled. 

It burned again, but he loved it this time. It filled his chest, his brain, left him feeling a little weightless. 

There was no coughing when he exhaled. Only the relief of subsided stinging, the warmth of Viktor against him. His nerves began to hum from his head to his toes. 

He was pretty sure he understood what all the hype was about now. Why the drug was so popular. 

But then again, that could all be because of Viktor. 

Viktor, Viktor, Viktor.

“So beautiful.” He heard his companion say, and there was a thumb brushing over his bottom lip. 

Jayce blinked his eyes open. It was harder than usual. Everything felt a little sluggish. 

Viktor was watching him. The whites of his starlight eyes were red, his gaze half-lidded, and that hunger was back. He looked like a cat on the prowl. Stalking its prey. 

Jayce had never been so pleased to feel like a cornered mouse. 

“Do you like men, Jayce?” 

“Do I-?” The question echoed his own thoughts bouncing around his mind. It sent a strike of panic through him, slightly dampened by the drug in his veins. He didn’t really have an answer for him. This night had brought up a lot of feelings on that exact topic, and most of them were muddy. It was terrifying, “I don’t… I’m not really sure, Viktor.” 

“Allow me to rephrase my question, then.” He hummed, and he was back to brushing his fingers over Jayce’s face. His lips, cheeks, nose, the space between his eyebrows, “Do you want to kiss me?” 

This question was much simpler. But it wasn’t much easier to answer.

He really liked Viktor. He was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Viktor was funny and he had a nice accent and his face was- honestly, the only word that came to mind was beautiful. He’d never found a man beautiful before. 

Jayce wanted the answer to be easy. He wanted it to come to him like a reflex. But he was scared. The fear was holding him back. 

He tried to remind himself of the vow he’d made only a bit ago. Analyze emotions later, do what feels good now. 

If Viktor was a woman, Jayce knew what his answer would be. And that should be enough for now. He met Viktor’s gaze once more.

“Yes.” He whispered. It felt a little like signing his death sentence. 

“Go on, then.” Their noses were touching again. Viktor’s skin was cold on his. Or maybe Jayce’s was just unusually hot. 

“You want me to?” Jayce was over-thinking. As he, clearly, had a tendency to do. But some part of him felt like this was all a prank, or a dream. Surely, the moment he leaned forward it would all go up in a cloud of smoke. 

“Take what you want, Jayce.” His voice was lower, deeper. The words curled with his accent, like music notes drifting through the air, “Hesitate, and the opportunity will slip through your fingers.”

That was all the push he needed. 

He kissed Viktor. Slowly at first, awkwardly. He was giggling again, mostly out of nervousness. Jayce had experience in kissing- 95% of it was with women. And this was different. 

He’d lean forward and end up squishing their noses together. Let out a chuckle, re-adjust, try again. Their teeth clacked together on the next kiss, a jarring sensation that made them both flinch. Still, they were smiling and touching and going for more. Jayce tried to kiss him and missed, planting a smooch right on his chin. 

“Shit-” He snickered, pulling away. His cheeks were red-hot, “Sorry, sorry.” 

“Don’t be. And don’t be nervous.” Viktor’s eyes crinkled a little as he smiled, “We’re in no rush.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He took a stabilizing breath, half-grinning, “Can I try again?” 

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.” 

Jayce laughed and kissed him again. A little more sure this time, but just as sloppy. He leaned up off the couch, pressing his hand into the small of Viktor’s lower back. Needing him closer, closer, closer. His lips tasted like raspberries. 

Viktor’s fingers tangled into Jayce’s hair, keeping his head right where he wanted. He kissed him like he was a master at it, like it was something he’d done a million times. It made Jayce feel very, very inadequate. 

He nipped at Jayce’s bottom lip, pulled back enough that Jayce had to chase him for more, then plunged right back in. A gentle tug on the locks in Viktor’s hands had Jayce’s mouth falling open. Viktor’s tongue slipped inside a moment later. One of his hands came to rest on Viktor’s face, thumb brushing over that sharp cheekbone. He allowed himself to be manhandled- let Viktor use his mouth as he pleased. He couldn’t stop fucking smiling. 

“There we go, you’re getting the hang of it,” Viktor murmured against his lips. His kisses moved to Jayce’s chin, mouthing along his jawline, “So eager, too. Like a puppy. Will you wag your tail if I call you a good boy?” 

He wanted to be embarrassed about the comparison. Wanted to not like the insinuation as much as he did. Mostly, though, he just wanted more Viktor. 

“Fuck.” He breathed, tilting his head back to give the other man more access. His pants were starting to strain a little bit. 

“I think that’s a yes.” He whispered, his breath sending goosebumps across Jayce’s skin. 

Viktor’s kisses moved up, up, up, until he was nibbling on Jayce’s earlobe. He gave it one sharp tug. 

And Jayce fucking whimpered. 

He’d never made that noise before. He didn’t even know he could make that noise. It definitely didn’t sound like something that would’ve come out of him. But it had. His face was on fire. 

“Oh, you like that?” Viktor practically purred. He pulled away to look at Jayce, and his hazy eyes widened a bit, “You didn’t know you liked that.” 

“No, I-” He swallowed, shifting a little in his seat, “I didn’t mean to make that… noise.” 

As if his inexperience wasn’t bad enough, now he was making sounds that could only be labeled as pathetic. Viktor must have thought he was such an idiot. 

The man frowned, pink lips forming an adorable pout, “I put work into getting that noise from you. I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to downplay it.” 

Jayce blinked up at him, “You liked it?” 

Viktor stared at him like he was an idiot. Jayce could only focus on how pretty he was like that. 

“Kiss me again?” He pleaded, because the way his head was already spinning wasn’t enough. He needed more. 

His companion was happy to oblige. 

The kiss was back to passionate and sloppy, all tongue and teeth and wandering hands. Jayce’s shirt got halfway unbuttoned, Viktor’s hair was let down, and the forgotten cup of water was kicked onto the carpet. Neither of them noticed, or maybe they didn’t care. Too caught up in each other to remember there was a whole world around them. 

They’d fallen into a rhythm, moving together like partners in a dance. It was euphoric.

“Shit-” Jayce moaned, eyes rolled back as the other man sucked at his neck. 

Viktor ran his tongue down Jayce’s pulse point, kissed the spot right above his collarbone, and then bit down. Hard. 

Jayce hissed at the sting, then grunted as it immediately turned into pleasure. All of his blood had gone South. His head was blissfully empty. Had he ever felt so needy in his life? If he had, he definitely couldn’t remember it. 

Viktor slid his hands down Jayce’s arms, interlocking them with the ones still on his waist. His fingers were slender against Jayce’s, bony and long while the other’s were thick and strong. They fit together perfectly.

Viktor kissed him again, then again. Little pecks that left him desperate for more. 

“Had enough yet?” He asked through the kisses, his lips swollen and red, “Perhaps you should return to the- mm- party. If you’ve had your moment of quiet.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Jayce asked, his breathing ragged. The question was asked jokingly, but it made his chest ache. Maybe he was doing terribly- maybe this wasn’t as good for Viktor as it was for him. He squeezed Viktor’s hands, still clasped in his own, “And here I thought we were having such a good time.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” He shot back, attempting to hide the amused smile on his lips. He certainly thought himself funny. It made Jayce’s fear die down, just a little, “Be a good boy and lay me down. I need to rest my leg.”

The nickname went straight to his dick. It also made him sit there for a solid five seconds like an idiot as his mind tried to process the words. Then he did, and it immediately had his heart lunging with worry. 

“Does it hurt?” Jayce asked earnestly, hooking his hands under Viktor’s thighs to lay him down on the couch. He knelt in between the man’s legs, the right one stretched out and relaxed. 

Viktor let out a relieved sigh as he settled into the couch, “It was starting to pinch. Nothing too bad, don’t worry.” 

“Are you sure?” Jayce asked softly, one hand holding him up while the other held Viktor’s hip. He watched the man closely, worriedly, “We can stop if-” 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“No!” He choked out, dark strands falling over his forehead. The answer came out faster than his mind could keep up. Complete instinct. He furrowed his brows, “No, I don’t. I just am… worried.” 

“Jayce, I am high out of my mind, having my way with a beautiful boy. I am fine.” 

He grinned at the sentiment, even as it made his face heat up, “Beautiful? Really?” 

Viktor rolled his red-tinged eyes, “You know you’re beautiful. I won’t feed your ego. Come and kiss me more, yes?” 

Jayce giggled. He leaned down, “Yes.” 

It was easier to kiss Viktor like this- more familiar. He still wasn’t the one leading, but it did feel like he had more control. Not that he’d minded being at the mercy of his companion. 

Jayce’s hand slid down the other man’s hip, grasping his thigh and pulling the leg against his waist. He could nearly wrap his hand entirely around the limb, fingertips almost touching. It made something primal, maybe territorial, bloom in his chest. Viktor was so fucking skinny.

“Mm-” Viktor gasped as their groins slotted together, fingers digging into Jayce’s shoulders. He looked up with those pretty sunset eyes, lips parted, “Jayce.” 

If he was sober, Jayce would’ve realized that his name sounded a little like a warning. But he was high, he was horny, and he had never been much of a good listener. And Viktor smelled so good and his skin was soft and Jayce was kissing up and down his throat. Really, it wasn’t his fault. He had too much he was preoccupied with. 

He rolled his hips again, desperate for friction, and paused. Something about that was… off. It didn’t feel how it should. 

“Hold on,” Viktor spoke up again, another warning. Jayce couldn’t hear him- he was too busy thinking. 

The cogs in his head were turning, and he was realizing, and- Shit. He pulled away like he’d been burned. He watched with wide eyes as Viktor sat up, the latter’s expression nearing resignation. 

“Jayce-” He began, and it sounded like the beginning of an explanation. 

Once again, Jayce was not listening. How the hell was Viktor so calm? This was serious!

“Oh my God.” He breathed out, running a hand through his already messy hair. He sat back on his heels, “Oh my God, Viktor, where’s your dick? What happened to it?” 

The other man watched him in stunned silence. It was totally unnerving. Really, why wasn’t he freaking out?!

“Did I crush it? Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that was possible. My Mom always told me I had more strength than I knew what to do with, I just didn’t think it could do this-” 

Viktor snorted. Loud and sharp enough that it shut Jayce up, quieted his mind. The two stared at each other for three long seconds. 

Then Viktor started laughing. 

The sound was light, a little wheezy, and beautiful. Despite the strangeness of the situation, it made Jayce smile. He’d never heard a laugh quite like it. 

Still, that didn’t take away from the very real panic coursing through him. 

“Jayce, you are- oh, God.” He chuckled, covering his mouth with a hand, “It is a good thing you have your looks.” 

He furrowed his brows. His brain was very slow right now and he was very, very confused. Shaking his head, he rested a hand on Viktor’s knee, “I don’t understand.” 

The smile the man gave Jayce was equal parts fondness and patronization, “I don’t have a, eh, dick, as you so eloquently put it. I never have.” 

Jayce tilted his head to the side as if things would make more sense at a 45-degree angle. He blinked once, twice, three times, “What?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, more for theatrics than anything else, “To put it technically, I was born a female. Which took me very little time to realize was not the case. Thus, here I am now. Not a female. My body simply… is a little behind in the process.” 

“Oh.” 

Jayce was the dumbest fucking idiot in the world. His face was absolutely on fire, embarrassment burning through him. Part of him hoped death would just take him now, or that this was all a dream he’d wake up from. If only to save himself from the humiliation. Viktor must have been kicking himself for spending time with such an imbecile. 

“Is that a problem for you?” Viktor asked when Jayce stayed silent, an incredulous eyebrow raised. The warmth was gone from him, defenses raised as he waited for an answer. 

Jayce lurched forward, desperate to fix the situation, to stop being so damn stupid. A large hand cupped Viktor’s cheek, “No! No, not at all. I’m sorry, I just- I feel so stupid.” He laughed, more self-deprecating than anything, “You’re great, Viktor- wonderful. And I’m an idiot. I didn’t- I’m sorry, my brain is not working. It’s not a problem. I like you how you are.” 

The word vomit spewing from him was grating on his nerves, making him cringe. He wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was the worst. 

He expected Viktor to pull away. To tell him to leave, that they were done and Jayce was unwelcome. He expected to be shunned for his idiocy. He would’ve deserved it, too. 

Instead, the man huffed out a laugh. He shook his head, “I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call you an idiot, Jayce. But it certainly was not one of your finest moments.” 

“Definitely not.” He grinned, running his thumb over the sharp cheekbone, “Try not to hold it against me? I don’t care that you’re a guy without a dick. I like you. I’m just very high.” 

“Oh, you like me?” Viktor wrapped a hand around Jayce’s forearm, “You just met me.” 

He gave a half-assed shrug, getting a little caught up in how starkly contrasting their skin tones were, “It doesn’t take much.” 

“Just weed and some kissing, huh?” 

“You also happen to be very cool.” Jayce argued, a teasing lilt to his voice, “Though the weed and the kissing don’t hurt.” 

Viktor chuckled. He looked so lovely with his hair down and a smile on his face. Jayce wanted to commit it to a canvas and look at it forever. 

“Can we do some more of it? The kissing?” He asked before he could stop himself. This longing in his chest was more than he could bear. 

The man’s eyes shimmered like starlight, something akin to pride flaring in him. He liked that Jayce wanted him. Jayce liked it too- he liked that look on Viktor’s face a lot. 

Just as Jayce’s companion opened his mouth to respond, though, they were interrupted. 

The door to the basement was flung open, letting in a flurry of pounding music and strobe lights. Jayce jumped a foot in the air, heart rate skyrocketing, while Viktor didn’t move a muscle.

“Vik, you down there?” A voice that could only be described as cackly called. From here, Jayce couldn’t see any part of the intruder besides black scuffed boots and two ankle-length blue braids, “Ekko says I can’t set off my fireworks unless you’re there to supervise!” 

Viktor laid his head against the back of the couch and looked up toward the doorway, “I’m assuming you won’t be taking no for an answer?” 

“Nope!” Came her enthusiastic reply as she rocked back and forth on her heels, “I told you I was gonna make you participate in the party. You’ve had your time.” 

The man let out a long sigh before responding, “I’ll be right there.” 

“Don’t take too long! I’ll be on the roof!” 

Then the door slammed shut, and they were in the quiet again. 

Viktor looked at Jayce with an expression bordering on apologetic, “It seems we’ll have to rain-check our kissing, unfortunately.” 

“You have to go?” He didn’t mean to sound as pathetic and whiny as he did. The thought of parting with him right now made him very sad. 

“Jinx is not one for patience.” Viktor got to his feet, stretching his arms above his head until his spine popped. His shirt rode up, giving Jayce a peek of smooth skin over a prominent hip bone, “And I’d prefer if my house didn’t get burned down by her antics. I like having a place to live.” 

Viktor was reaching for his cane and Jayce was panicking, panicking, panicking. He didn’t want to say goodbye, not yet. His mind was a haze but he knew that much. 

“Well, can I see you again? Sometime soon?” Desperate. He must’ve looked so desperate. He didn’t care. 

Viktor paused and looked down at him, half-smirking. His fingers tapped against the head of his cane, “I’m sure you’ll see me again, Jayce. Some time.” 

“But-” 

“You can stay down here as long as you’d like.” Viktor walked towards the stairs, favoring the weight of his bad leg a little, “Enjoy the quiet, get some rest, take care of your… predicament. No one will bother you.” 

It didn’t take a genius to know that the ‘predicament’ was Jayce’s not-so-subtle erection. His cheeks were heating up again. All he could do was watch with resignation as the man moved away from him. He was like water Jayce was trying to hold in his hands. 

Just as he was about to ascend the stairs, Viktor stopped again. He looked at Jayce over his shoulder, gazing through strands of brown hair. His eyes shone with warmth, “Thank you for keeping me company. I hope it was as… enjoyable for you as it was for me.” 

He left after that. Deserting Jayce in the basement with kiss-swollen lips, too-tight pants, and a whole lot of questions. 

[agathasfamiliar]

hi!! I just found your blog, can I request g!p detective!agatha railing reader in a missionary position and has a bulge kink (poking the bear🤭🏃‍♀️)

thank you so much for this request it was very fun to write, i hope you enjoy it!

fuck the police:

detective agnes o'connor x fem!reader

You fucked up and finally got caught for your long-running streak of graffiti artistry. What's worse than being arrested, however? Being interrogated by the one detective in town who causes you to question your all out hatred for the profession.

word count: 6.2k

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, agnes is trans/intersex/has a penis, penis in vagina sex, power bottom!reader, service top!agnes (but agnes still needs a little control of course), handcuffs, breeding kink, bulge kink, agnes loves reader's tits, smut

author's note: trans butch agnes, my beloved. also i probably could've done more research into a more realistic set up/i know this isn't how someone being arrested/interrogated would work but it's porn so...hopefully you can look past that

You never thought you’d find yourself here, arrested and waiting to be questioned for your crimes. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming, your graffiti art has steadily risen in popularity over the last few months, ever since one particularly evocative piece got featured on the local news and allegedly inspired a number of protests throughout the city of Westview.

Not that you had anything to do with that.

The police department has issued several requests for information on you, even offering a pretty handsome reward for the proven identity of “Hex”, the name you tag every piece with. A rumor has even reached your ears about a copycat artist getting arrested over in Eastview. Serves them right for using your signature, but it at least has kept the feds off your trail for a bit. 

Admittedly, you’d gotten cocky thinking you could get away with tagging the squad car stationed at the busiest intersection in town. In your defense, it had looked empty. How were you supposed to know the deputy on duty was napping in the back seat? You’d made it halfway through the looping pink pig face you were sprawling across the windshield before he woke up and chased you down four blocks.

If you were wearing your usual running shoes instead of having slipped on an old pair of slides in your rush out of the house, you probably would’ve outrun the middle-aged cop chasing you, another mistake you won’t make again.

  Now, you sit shivering in nothing but a sheer white tank top and sweatpants so spattered in all the vibrant colors of your, now confiscated, cans of spray paint, that you can’t even remember what color the pants originally were. You weren’t an idiot, you had a black hoodie on when you went out to do your work, but the rookie cop that booked you at the station also insisted on taking your sweatshirt for “evidence”.

You’re pretty sure he just wanted to see you suffer in the refrigerator-like temperature they keep the precinct at, clearly only recently having graduated the academy and already taking a shine to abusing his power. Pigs, indeed. 

The interrogation room they brought you to well over 30 minutes ago sits at the very back of the building, a windowless box that somehow looks and smells both musty and sterile. A large one-way mirror covers the wall opposite the door, the only noise in the confined space being the tick-tick-tick of the clock above it that reads just past midnight.

You rattle the short chain connecting your handcuffed wrists to a bar on the heavy metal table in front of you, just to disrupt the suffocating silence. Have you seriously been forgotten here?

Just as you have that thought, as if summoning another person into existence with it, the door, opposite the corner where you sit, opens briskly. 

Twin sighs of irritation drop from both your mouth and the supposed detective’s as she enters. You can’t make out too many details of her appearance at first because of the dim lighting that mostly just illuminates the table you sit at, as well as the fact that she has her head down looking over what you assume is your intake forms. 

“I want a lawyer.” Are the first words out of your mouth once the woman has turned to shut the door behind her.

“Ha!” She laughs dryly and it has you simmering with rage already, but something about it also sounds familiar.

 “Well, sweetie,” The still concealed detective continues as she finally steps into the light, “not likely to find a public defender that’s available at this hour, but if you insist on staying overnight…” She trails off amusedly, finally stepping into the light and causing your prepared reply to die in your throat as you connect the recognition of the voice with the blue eyes that meet yours.

“Detective O’Connor.” You greet, trying to keep your tone even. 

Fuck.

Of fucking course, of all the detectives in the goddamn city, this is who had to come question you. The same detective you’ve served coffee to every morning for the better part of three years at your shitty cafe day job. The same detective who barely acknowledges your existence, but when her fingers brush yours as you pass her usual over the counter, you think about it for the rest of the day. The detective you berate yourself for fantasizing about, because she’s everything you despise and your friends would never let you hear the end of it if they found out, especially with how often you’re spouting your “radical” political beliefs (not that you see them that way.)

Detective Agnes fucking O’Connor…

This is not how you imagined it would look if you ever got her in a room alone.

“Huh? Do I know you?” She questions, almost offended, and now you’re the one to let out a dry laugh.

“Here, let me help jog your memory.” You say, picking up the small, paper cup of water that had been left on the table for you in one bound hand, holding it aloft and reciting her order.

 “One large hot coffee with two sugars and half a pump of vanilla.”

She looks unaffected at your display, only raising both eyebrows once in sudden recognition before sauntering over to the chair on the other side of the table and sitting down casually. 

“Impressive, that how you’ve avoided custody so long? Charming Westview’s finest by memorizing their coffee orders?” Her questions are laced with condescension.

“Nope, just yours. Why? Is it working?” You smirk despite your better judgment. You hadn’t planned to try the flirting route to get out your charges, but hey, the best schemes have an element of truth to them. Plus, if this is the only chase you’ll have to speak to the detective alone, you might as well make the most of it. 

She doesn’t answer, instead leaning back in the rickety metal chair that lets out a squeal at the motion. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail that’s tied low at the base of her skull. Blue flannel sleeves are rolled up to the elbow and it’s all you can do not to think about tracing your tongue over the veins that snake over her strong forearms.

The jeans she’s wearing strain with the way she sits, legs spread apart, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop from letting out a gasp when you notice how it puts the delicious outline of what’s beneath the denim on display. Fuck, you do not need to be thinking about straddling the woman where she sits and grinding down against her bulge right now, but you are anyway.

Mercifully, she leans forward again in the seat to ask another question and the view is gone. You need to focus if you’re going to get out of this without incriminating yourself.

“What were you doing tonight?” She asks flatly, getting down to business. You know better than to provide anything resembling an answer, true or false.

“This whole thing seems pretty excessive, all things considered. I mean, an interrogation? Really, Agnes?” Her first name slips out before you can catch it, but you don’t really care.

“Just answer the question. And it’s Detective.” The flare of anger in her eyes only spurs you on.

“Sorry, Detective Agnes,” you correct yourself, purposefully using her name this time, just to see that flash of heat again. 

“If you were so curious about where I was tonight you could’ve just asked me out.” Now that you’ve opened the floodgates, the suggestive remarks just keep coming out.

For Agnes’ part, she remains still and draws in an angry breath. Her blue eyes blaze with irritation at your lack of cooperation more than the intrigue you were hoping for, but that just means you’ll have to turn up the dial on this improvised plan you’ve laid out for yourself. What’s the worst that could happen, anyway?

“Listen, if you’re going to keep wasting my time I’ll just lock you up now and wait ‘til morning.” She threatens with a glowering expression, voice raising every few words in an attempt to intimidate. It’s kind of cute, actually. 

You think she might hear just how her phrasing comes out and anticipate your next response, because she almost looks remorseful. The slightest pink tone that rises to her cheeks and the way she pokes her tongue out to wet her bottom lip when her eyes flick down to your barely covered chest don’t escape your careful observations either. 

“Ooo,” you start, falsely scandalized, “now you want me to spend the night?” A slight giggle escaping you at your own words and the way you lift your handcuffed wrists in front of you playfully. 

With the action, you’re sure to press your biceps against either side of your body to even more obviously display your tits, and she can’t help but look down with the movement, eyes raking over your nipples that stand at attention beneath the thin fabric in the cold space.

Heat is practically rolling off her in waves and you can’t tell for sure if it’s arousal or fury that is threatening to boil over, or what will happen when it does, but you have always been the type to take risks. Why stop now?

“Can’t you just get me off with a warning? I mean- let me off…” You ask before she can recover from your last question, attempting a simper at the intentional slip up in your speech. 

It seems that this is what finally pushes her over the edge as she slams her hands loudly against the metal table and stands up, causing it to vibrate with the impact. Her chair goes clattering to the ground behind her, but she doesn’t seem to care. The satisfied expression you wear drops for a second at the forceful display, maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

“Alright, that’s enough!” She shouts, leaning over so you can practically feel her breath on your face before she rounds the table quickly.

“Do you really wanna keep poking the bear?!” She asks, furious, now standing at your right side and heavily folding at the waist to shout into your ear. 

You have to lean away slightly at the volume that threatens to burst your eardrum and it provides just enough space to look the detective up and down where she stands. 

That’s when you see it. 

Unmistakable and pressing against the zipper of her jeans so forcefully that it’s a wonder they haven’t burst; Detective O’Connor is hard. 

You can’t drag your eyes away from the tented fabric, so obvious that it nearly casts a shadow onto the denim in the odd light of the room. As you are still seated, you’re practically at the perfect level to just lean over and mouth the length through her pants. It’s all you can do not to let your head dip where it wants to most, as if you’re a magnet being drawn by its opposite charge.

“I- uh.” You stutter, unsure of your words for the first time since she walked in. The amount of saliva that has accumulated in your mouth at the sight in front of you forces you to swallow before you speak again.

“I think I’d rather have the bear poke me.” You breathe, sounding wrecked just at the thought.

When you finally drag your gaze back up to hers, her face is burning red, but this time you can tell it is much more out of embarrassment than anger. She looks self conscious in a way you’ve never seen and it’s so, so pretty. 

“It’s okay I c-” You start, reaching out uselessly in your confines, but you’re cut off from your attempt at a rare comforting word when Agnes seizes your right shoulder and lifts you to your feet. She then immediately folds you over and presses you against the table on your stomach, handcuffed hands pinned beneath your chest. You let out a grunt at the forceful action as well as the freezing cold metal that almost stings your skin that has warmed at your flirting.

The position is much like the one you were put in a few hours ago upon your arrest, only now it causes you to ache with desire instead of seeth with fury. 

“You think this is funny?!” She questions, but it sounds strained and unsure. Your own hesitance at her intentions keeps you from muttering out that it’s actually not funny, it’s really fucking hot.

It dawns on you then that she probably turned you over like this so you aren’t able to see the blush that’s probably still spreading over her skin, or the bulge in her pants that’s no doubt only getting worse, especially with how you purposefully arch your back in her grasp.

She has you pinned beneath her hands, one still on your shoulder and the other holding your waist, the perfect placement for her to pull you back against her. Instead, a shaky breath sounds from behind you. It seems like she’s deciding what to do next and you can almost feel the heat radiating from between her hips that begs her to choose the option you’re hoping for too.

You start pressing back yourself, impatient and using any amount of leverage possible to reach your destination. To help her decide.

“Come on, detective. Let me help you out.” You nearly whisper in the most convincing and sweet voice you can muster. Her hands loosen ever so slightly at the soft sound and you use the opportunity to slide the last inch backwards, your ass just barely brushing her front, aware also that if she had wanted to stop you she would’ve easily been able to.

You feel the hardness and heat of her cock against you through both your clothing and nearly release a whimper at the sensation, at the idea of her finally being inside you like you’ve fantasized about so many times. 

Just as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone again. Her hands release you entirely and she steps away without a word, leaving you feeling even colder than the steel table you’re slumped against. You drop your head to the metal in defeat. That’s it, you think. Your efforts haven't worked and you’re not only going to spend the night in a cell, but you’re going to do so while very uncomfortably wet and wound up. Plus, she’s probably going to try to add attempted bribery or harassment to your charge sheet. God, this was a dumb idea. Why couldn’t you have just gotten some old guy detective whose questions you would have dodged coldly and without a second thought?

All these thoughts flash through your head in the few seconds it takes Agnes to step away from the table and turn you by the hips to face her, the chain keeping you there being just long enough to allow such movement. 

You look down immediately, as if out of instinct, to find the large bulge still present, possibly even more so somehow. A bolt of desire strikes through your core at the small dark spot you notice has formed on the crotch of the already dark jeans. The evidence of your effect threatens to turn your legs to jelly. Finally, your eyes raise to meet Agnes’ with a curiosity, who stands less than a foot from you, hands still holding your hips loosely. The thrill of not knowing what she’ll do next makes your already racing heart beat even faster.

You find that she looks as weak as you feel, drinking you in like you’re an ice cold glass of water she’s found in the middle of the sahara. It’s clear that she’s used up every last thread of restraint she has to resist your offer, and it still has proven to be insufficient. Her blue irises have nearly been swallowed by blown black pupils that bore into you as she speaks her resignation to her rapturous fate.

“If I’m gonna fuck you,” she breathes the words out like she’s just run a marathon, “it’s gonna be while looking at those pretty tits.”

You lean back into the table in favor of collapsing straight to the floor at those words. How is this actually happening?

Seeing you stumble into the table, her right hand shifts down to your thigh and lifts, helping you to sit on the ledge as she steps closer to let your knees bracket her body. She looks so much more confident in this moment, and not in the same stone-faced way she had while you prodded at her before. It brings a soft smile to your lips and she looks away, somewhat coyly, at your noticing. It’s hard to decide if you prefer her shy or assertive.  

Blunt nails graze gently over your covered thighs, to your hips, then your waist, before finally settling over your scarcely contained breasts. Your own sharp intake of breath meets your ears as you lean into the warm touch and she squeezes them with a smirk playing on her lips.

  “I might not remember your face…” she rasps, leaning to speak directly into your right ear, “but I definitely remember these.” Both thumbs move to brush over your already pebbled nipples, causing them to harden further. You roll your eyes, both at the comment and at the thread of pleasure that tugs right from where she touches you all the way down to your pulsing clit.

For all the humor in it, you can’t help but notice just how sincere her comment sounds and flashes run through your mind of every low cut top you’ve ever worn to work, wondering which one’s are her favorite.

“Shut up and fuck me already.” You exhale with a chuckle against her cheek, momentarily forgetting your binds and trying to reach around her shoulders to pull her closer. The chain rattles loudly and you jerk with the reminder of your limited movement.

Agnes shakes her head and laughs at your needy but firm command as well as your inability to move.

“Here, let me.” She continues laughing gently as she reaches for the key ring you somehow hadn’t yet noticed swinging from her hip. 

“No.” You blurt before you can think better of it. 

“Leave them.” 

It’s a daring statement and you run your tongue across your teeth mischievously while the implication works its way through the woman’s mind. Her lower lip disappears into her mouth with how hard she bites into it, looking at you in disbelief and utter need. 

“Fuck,” is all she says, dropping the keys back to her side and moving instead to undo her belt with a clumsy haste. 

You would be scrambling to remove your own pants as well, not wanting to waste anymore time, but your own request has left you unable to do so. Instead, you’re left in awe as the black leather belt is unlatched and left hanging loosely open while Agnes works at her zipper. Even less is left to the imagination when denim is pulled aside to reveal cotton boxer briefs protruding with the tension of her arousal.

Her cock is pressing tautly against the soft, grey material and the way the underwear clings to her body causes you to gape at the implication of how much the secure garment is still concealing. 

The dark spot you’d noticed on her jeans is even darker and more centralized to its origin on the grey cloth. Saliva fills your mouth again at the sight, the only thing better than seeing her from beneath that last layer of clothing will be when it is finally removed.

As if reading your mind and wanting you to suffer a moment long, she pauses her motions of undressing any further. Before you can argue or make a snide remark, her hands are on your own waistband, tugging the paint-covered article down as much as she can while you’re still seated. You can’t very well lift yourself with your hands at the moment, so you slip off the table quickly to help get them the rest of the way down, hopping back up just as swiftly and letting her pull them off your legs, shoes falling to the floor one by one in the process. 

The cold table under your mostly bare ass draws the breath from you momentarily, only a black pair of boyshorts now protecting you from the metal.

“Do you ever wash these?” Agnes asks down at the rainbow vomit littering your clothing before dropping the pants to the floor, a real dry humor in her voice replacing the stern, mocking one from when she first entered the room.

“What’s the point?” You ask, because seriously, why would you wash them if you’re just going to get paint all over them again?

“Do you answer every question with a question?” She fires back, moving back between your knees from where she’d stepped back to help undress you. Her fingers play again at her own waistband, dipping into them slightly before meeting your eyes, waiting for your answer.

“Do you always stall like this when a girl wants you to fill her pussy?” You ask with an exaggerated expression of curiosity, as if you are genuinely awaiting the answer and not just communicating your impatience. 

Her cheeks pink again at the response, any clever comebacks quickly forgotten. You remove your gaze from her face and shift it back to her arousal to allow her to blush in private.

In your peripheral vision, you see her eyes flick up to watch your face as she dips her left hand into her underwear and grasps herself so gently, right hand pushing the material down to reveal what you’ve been waiting for.

You’re first met with a mess of dark curls that trail all the way up to her belly button, which you only catch a quick glimpse of with the way her shirt momentarily gets caught by her arm. You stifle a moan at the reveal of her thick cock; rock hard, reddened and still beading pre-cum, as you saw evidenced on the front of her jeans and underwear.

Now you slightly regret having her leave the cuffs on, as you long to reach out and take the length in your hands, or better yet, your mouth. Heat takes your face at the idea of getting on your knees before the detective and gagging on her length, and now you’re the one blushing and biting your lip.

Painfully tearing your eyes from the beautiful sight to catch Agnes’ expression, you find her still looking for your reaction. She finds exactly what she’s looking for in the way your eyes soften and you use one finger, your hands still bound at the wrists and settled in front of your chest, to beckon her forward.

Loose strands of brown hair that have escaped her messily tied back tendrils brush the side of your face as she leans in close to catch your message.

“I need your cock inside me, detective.” You husk, more than speak, into her ear, the lust dripping from the title she insisted on minutes ago causing a physical and auditory shudder through the woman. Looking back down, you see Agnes stroke herself once, as if your words have rendered her unable to resist.

Maybe she notices that you’re about to make a comment about it, because in one swift motion Agnes’ right hand flies up to your left shoulder, shifting you fully to your back on the table. You let out a gasp at the sudden movement, metal tabletop clattering at the impact and drowning out the sound. Just as quickly as you’ve adjusted to your new position, you’re being pulled by the thighs to the very edge of the table and towards exactly what you want, Agnes then guiding you to wrap your spread legs around her hips for support.

“You need this, huh?” She asks, hungrily looking over your body from her new perspective. You’re about to answer her question with your own when she slowly and teasingly drags the head of her cock from your clit to your entrance, over your underwear. Her timing is getting a little too convenient.

You groan at the feeling of your own wetness being pressed against you by her hardness. It makes you ache knowing it’s so close to being consumed by your heat, only a thin shield of fabric left between you. If you had full range of motion of your hands, you would have already ripped the rest of your clothing off, but the quick and dirty way you’re both still mostly clothed almost turns you on more. 

Desperate to maintain the dizzying contact, your hips grind upward as your legs become a vice, pulling her ever closer. The clear enthusiasm only spurs her on, gliding back up and down again, circling your clit three times with her cock on the last pass until you're squirming beneath her and hopelessly trying to contain your whimpering. You would rather wait a lifetime for your orgasm than beg a cop.

You’re so sopping wet, though, that when you look down between your bodies you can see the way her cock shines with your arousal despite not having yet made full contact. It’s almost too much to bear, your clit throbbing in time with your pounding pulse. Something has to give or you’re soon going to be a blabbering mess. 

“Just fuck me, Agnes!” You bark out, hips rising insistently and your voice verging on a whine.

The room goes still for a moment, even the clock ticking away on the wall seems to pause for dramatic effect as she quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head dangerously at your outburst. That same feeling from before washes over you, when you thought you might’ve really fucked up, but it only lasts for half a second before a hand is shoving your ruined underwear to one side and you feel the tip of her resting at your entrance.

Your eyes meet her blue ones, which are actually still mostly black, especially in this light. They burn into you like before and you don’t know whether her silence is a good or bad thing. 

You draw in your own shaky breath, waiting for her next move, and on the exhale she sheathes herself to the hilt inside of you.

Even she can’t contain her half of the guttural growl that comes from both of you at the perfect feeling. You don’t even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed about just how fucking soaked you are that she was able to slide all the way in with one thrust, because the way her cock is filling you up so completely has rendered every other thought irrelevant.

A moment passes where you both breathe, adjusting to the stretch and squeeze respectively. You feel her throb once within you and think, at this point, with enough determination, you could come just from that small amount of friction.

You don’t need that determination, though. As if mocking that passing thought, Agnes skips any unnecessary build up and starts at a positively bruising pace. Just one moment ago she was panting over you, looking like she might not even make it two thrusts in before unraveling, and now she’s slamming into you with a literally breathtaking force.

No intelligible noises are able to come out of your throat at first, only broken, reedy gasps. Your eyes roll back in your head as the glorious, slapping sounds of your joining sexes fill your ears. Her length jabs over and over again at the perfect spot inside you, just where you need her. 

Doing your best to focus your vision, you look up to see the red face of a woman clearly holding on to her composure for dear life. Her finger nails are short, but still able to bite into your hips ever so slightly as she practically slides you up and down along the table while also moving against you herself, which deepens her thrusts even more.

This also seemingly provides quite the show for Agnes, who you observe is splitting her time between watching your face contorting with pleasure, her cock sliding in and out of your pussy, and most of all, the way your tits are bouncing considerably with her every movement.

“You like these? You should fuck them.” You make out between gasping breaths, nodding down at your own chest.

Agnes takes a moment to respond, her laser focus causing her to not even register your words at first. When she does however, and notices your gesturing, her thrusting falters only for a moment, as if the idea alone has made her nearly swoon with desire. Crystal irises scan you over again and you can tell she’s thinking about it by the way her eyebrows knit together in a desperate sort of way.

“Maybe next time.” She decides, smirking down at you and ramming herself into you particularly hard once before returning to her rhythm, while her left hand comes up to grip your right breast greedily.

“Mmn- next time?” You ask around a moan, trying not to sound too hopeful, but it’s also such an unexpected sentiment from the detective you can’t help but question her further.

“I’d bet good money this won’t be your last arrest,” is all she says to satisfy your curiosity. While it’s also a subtle dig at your evading skills, your imagination still runs wild with the unspoken promise of how a future slip-up might turn out for you. It almost makes you want to get caught again.

“Right, because you’d love to f-fuck, fuck! Oh my god!” Your response turns into a moaning curse when her hand shoots down from playing with your tits so her thumb can land firmly on your clit and press down with flawless pressure, never letting up consistently filling you in the process. 

“Oh fuck! Don’t stop! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..” The mantra spills from your lips while your orgasm mounts within you and you know you’ll be toppling over the edge any minute now.

If your hands were free you would be locking your fingers behind her neck and pulling her even closer to you to ensure you get what you want, but the burn of the metal chafing your wrists is a delicious alternative. The pain only sharpens the pleasure you’re feeling everywhere else and you throb at the idea of waking up tomorrow and seeing angry red and purple bracelets of evidence.

At your emphatic request, she doesn’t stop. You’ve never been so full before and when Agnes’ cock throbs within you after every couple of pumps, stars explode behind your eyes. There’d better be a next time because you’re pretty sure nothing and nobody has or will ever make you feel like this.

“I’m so, so close. Fuck!” You shout, unsure what possesses you to tell her, but her response only drives you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, yeah, fucking come for me. Come on my cock, come on my c-cock…” She huffs, the exertion that you were already impressed with her maintaining finally shows in her voice, but she still never lets up. It almost sounds like she’s begging, a “please” barely contained behind her lips, and that’s what makes you really want to come for her.

Chasing your orgasm, you redouble your efforts of rocking your hips up and it makes her length press even more fully against your front wall until you’re practically screaming with pleasure. The new angle caused by your rocking coupled with the way your walls are tightening around her in anticipation of your release is also clearly doing something for Agnes.

Her breaths are coming in short puffs and she is completely unable to stifle the loud whimper that bursts out of her when you clench around her even harder, your orgasm just seconds away.

That’s what finally does it, that mewl that you were able to pull from the tough detective. It sends you flying, every muscle tenses and wave after wave of pleasure causes you to buck against the table and Agnes, but she holds you firmly in place, fucking you through it and moaning herself the whole time as she marvels at your release. The aftershocks go on for what feels like forever while you float in your euphoria, never wanting it to end.

After your release, Agnes’ thrusts quickly become short and frantic, almost rutting into you with a fervor. The throbs you’ve felt are coming on every pump and you’re content to lie back in your blissed out state and let her take whatever she wants, until she starts to pull out of you, one trembling hand releasing your hip and clearly intent on finishing herself off. 

You’re suddenly more lucid than ever, quickly locking your ankles behind her from where they’d fallen limp, and shoving her back into you until she bottoms out. A surprised breath leaves her at the action, a sheen of sweat breaking across her forehead as she stutters out her reasoning.

“I-I’m gonna-” She can’t even get the words out and it’s the second time in so many minutes that you feel your heart squeeze at just how adorable this usually grave woman is. 

“I know, I know. Come inside me, baby.” Your voice is thick with desire and you’re still lingering bliss, the pet name slipping out like water, but you need her to know just how badly you want it.

Her eyes widen slightly as a deeper blush somehow takes over her already red face, unsure but so very full of want. You feel her twitch within you despite herself and her hips roll just at the words. 

You don’t break eye contact, making clear how serious you are to quell her doubt.

Tentatively, after a beat, she starts up a slower pace, pulling almost out of you before thrusting all the way back in, like she’s giving herself time to think again.

“You can do it baby, I know you want to. Fuck, you feel so good inside me.” You gasp out the words while she fucks back into your pussy and you think you could come again just from the way she looks at you when you say them.

You repeat your cooing encouragements and it doesn’t even take three more of those slow thrusts before she falters and stays sheathed inside you, rutting weakly. 

“Come on, baby.” You repeat, and you know she’s done.

More of those beautiful whimpers fall from her lips as you feel one stronger throb and then warmth explodes into your walls. You can’t help but moan yourself at the feeling of being filled by her. Spurt after spurt of her cum coats your insides while she holds you tighter and tighter, as if you’ll float away if she lets go. Her desperate moans die down eventually and she slumps against you, still inside, and draws in one big breath before releasing it slowly. Her eyes are screwed shut and her head is now resting against your restrained hands on your chest. 

It’s probably good they're restrained, you think, because if they weren’t you’d be having a very hard time resisting running your fingers through her long hair, tenderly scratching your nails against the nape of her neck.

Another beat passes where the two of you breath against one another and come down from your respective highs. The delicious mix of your and Agnes’ cum has started to drip out of you onto the table below and it’s a hot enough thought that your sensitive clit gives a weak twitch and you clench around Agnes unintentionally, causing her to crane her neck to look up at you.

Her eyes are clear again and softer than you’ve ever seen them; you let your coursing endorphins carry you away on a cloud of imagining leaning the six inches it would take to capture her lips in yours, but you don’t dare actually do it.

She starts to shift, maybe shaking herself from some similar thought, you can’t tell. Her soft sex pulls out of you slowly as she pushes up on her hands and waits for you to release her from the grip your legs still have her in. You unsteadily unravel yourself from her, shuddering slightly at the loss and trying not to think about how empty you feel without her.

Now free, she tucks herself back into her briefs and makes quick work of finally undoing your cuffs. Her hands rub at the raw skin absently, using her hold there to pull you into a seated position. She then reaches down for the balled-up mess you call a pair of pants and slides them back onto your trembling legs easily. After you’re relatively put back together, cum still leaking out and coating your already ruined underwear, she looks you over once more with hunger along with something else you can’t place. 

She looks thoughtful, like she wants to say something else but thinks better of it, instead letting a sly smile pull at her mouth and a different comment sneak through with a soft laugh.

“Consider that your warning.”

[delusionalwh6re]

hellooo can i request a smut fic of hyun ju??? its like a brat tamer one AHHHHH i can't describe ittttt thankssss

i gotchu!! this is my first time ever writing for a trans character so i was a bit nervous ngl… i didn’t wanna do anything offensive. i’m not fully educated so i kept it simple but still steamy 😭 i hope you enjoy ml <3

࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ good for ya’

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ cho hyun-ju x fem!reader

warnings: brat taming, fingering, hair pulling, face sitting, mommy kink (it’s literally only said twice lol), edging, dirty talk, bathroom sex, cursing, orgasm denial and cursing

summary: your girlfriend has had enough of that bratty ass attitude of yours… so she gets you together

authore’s note: the gayness came out of me writing this 😭 i love this baddie sm, hyun ju supremacy!

Hyun-ju watched you from afar. The way your face held no expression, your eyes boring into others as if you dared them to say the wrong thing to you, your hips swaying with confidence as you walked around like you were the head bitch in charge. Like you fucking owned the place.

It pissed Hyun-ju off. You had all the time in the word to have this little attitude of yours but not enough to be a grown ass woman and speak about your guy’s problems.

When she found out you were in the games, she immediately began to worry for you. You weren’t the type to… listen. You didn’t believe in rules, you made your own. So you wouldn’t survive in a place like this.

But you on the other hand, the second you saw her it seemed like some sort of competition forming between you two.

With the way you were acting towards her, it would be hard to believe that the two of you were.. together.

And as long as you kept it up, she was gonna show you.

So that’s exactly what she did.

“Oh, oh! Hyun-ju! just wait-” your squeals bounced off the stall walls in attempts to get your girlfriend to slow down her almost painful fingering.

“No! What did I tell you huh?” her fingers showed no remorse as she curled them inside of you.

“Uhh” you threw your head back, your pussy clenching around her thick digits.

“You don’t know how to listen, so I’m gonna teach you” she whispered in your ear pulling her fingers out of you slowly.

You whimpered at the lost of contact and immediately reached out for her to get it back. You needed it. Needed anything to get some relief. You needed her.

She chuckled at you. Your usual hard headed and cocky act flowing right down the drain. You looked pathetic. Slick dropped from your puffy pussy, your tits perked up needing attention, hair was a mess… in all reality you were just a mess.

“Why don’t you ever behave?” her hand went to give your hair a soothing caress while her words swirled through your mind repeatedly.

“Ju” the nickname you always called her flew out your swollen lips in a whisper “need you, please?” your head tilt would’ve usually got the best of her but not this time.

You needed to be taught a lesson.

The only thing that was now heard in the bathroom was heavy breathing and the muffled background of players interacting.

Your back slammed against the cold stilled stall as Hyun-ju pulled onto your hair and pressed you against it. A fight of dominance now between the two of you with your lips. Teeth clashing and tongues gliding over each others — it was so hot.

“You’re gonna pay” she pulled away slightly for some air, not letting up on you at all before slamming your her lips back against yours.

Now it was your turn to gain control. With what little strength you had left, you held onto your girlfriend to turn the both of your around — her back now pressed against the stall.

You started feeling up on her with your dainty hands, your fingers brushing over her body. The two of you completely naked in front of one another.

“Teach me then” your voice laced with seduction as you rubbed at the sides of her hips — leaning closer to press your lips against her ear “mommy”

The feeling of your lips along with the heat of your words made her skin crawl. Immediate goosebumps and arousal taking over her body. She couldn’t wait anymore — she needed to taste you and she needed it now.

Hyun-ju looked at you up and down, licking her lips with anticipation that only made you wetter for her. Whether she realized it or not.

Her body walking towards yours. The feeling of your chests now being pressed together as the two of you connected lips once again. Her strong but gentle hands squeezing a handful of your ass.

She twirled you guys around so now you were the one with your back facing the stall. You were ready to take control but Hyun-ju caught you off guard when she spoke up

“Sit on my face”

“Ju — I don’t know if that’s possible”

You squealed when she grabbed your hips to pull you closer towards her now sitting body “I wasn’t asking”

She looked so beautiful underneath you. Her short hair in a low ponytail with her signature bangs sticking to her forehead — lips swollen as she stared up at you as she was amazed, which she was.

You just wanted to devour her.

“Not this time sweetheart, you’ve been a bad girl” her words caught you out of your trance as she rubbed the outside of your thighs

A huff leaving your mouth in annoyance — was she in your head?

“I don’t ca—”. you started to say before a harsh slap was landed onto your ass

You winced in pain before looking down at your very non sympathetic girlfriend — instantly regretting your actions at her next move

“This is your problem! You don’t listen” she yanked you upwards to hover your bare pussy above her face

This position being awkward in the small bathroom. Your arms having to hold your self up against the stall walls and your legs have to crouch down on the edge of the toilet seat — yuck.

But all your discomfort left as soon as Hyun-ju placed her lips against your throbbing clit

“Oh!” you cried out in ecstasy as she began sucking on you like a pacifier

That feeling not lasting for long before she began teasing your hole with the tips of her fingers. Plunging them inside you with a force that sent you jolting up.

“Stop moving” her voice muffled against your wet heat

“So —so good” you grinned against her face as you threw your head back. Her tongue lapping up your slit with ease. Wet smacking filling the bathroom every time she made contact with your pussy.

“Mhmm” she hummed against you slapping your ass before squeezing the flesh firmly — keeping you from trying to move away from her — as if you wanted to, not when she ate you good every single time.

“You gonna apologize?” her mouth came off of you with a low ‘pwah’ while she curled her fingers inside of you

“N-no” you stuttered with determination

“No? Did you just tell me no?” she scoffed angrily picking up her face as your jaw dropped. Your slick glistening down her hand as she practically pounded your with her fingers.

“I-I’m cumminggg, mommy please” you pleaded as you rode her fingers with your eyes closed. Going up and down on them with speed, ready to chase your orgasm— the knot in your stomach getting stronger as the outside world closed out of your head.

“Yeah?” her voice laced with sarcasm and you could heard the smirk in her voice.

You were so close, at the very edge. Until it was ripped away from you. Your eyes shot open as with disappointment as you looked at your girlfriend with sad eyes.

“Ju, no, don’t do this to me, please I’m sorry. I’ll be a good girl for you. Only you.” you weren’t one to beg but Hyun-ju had you doing things no one else could

You were so in love with her, even though you had a shitty way of showing it.

“Next time don’t be such a brat and then you could get what you want” she looked up at you with a shit eating grin — she knew she won. Like she often did.

Hyun-ju was the only person who could put you in your place.

Your eyes filled with tears “I love you baby, I’ll be good just for you, please just make me cum”

You got off from above her and got on your knees pleading in front of her. You didn’t even care if anyone heard you anymore. You just wanted the love of your life to please you.

“Only good girls get to cum” she whispered in your ear as she stood up to put her clothes back on

And after that, you were working to be on you best behavior just to get her to fully please you again.

I NEVER WROTE ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE?? i rlly hope this came out good and don’t sound stupid 😭

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Like Ships in the Night…On a Train… (BSD version part 1)

Author's Note: Got horny. Thought about one of my favorite scenarios. Bon appetit 👍 Other installments are already in the works for different series. :3

Pairings: Sigma, Dazai, & Chuuya x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, trans Sigma, chikan, grinding, groping, fingering (Sigma), nipple play (Chuuya)

Sigma

Why is this happening to him?! He's read the news headlines about creeps groping people on trains, sure, but he never imagined he'd be on the receiving end of that!

Sigma feels helpless as the mystery man hooks one arm around his waist, locking him in this position like a caged bird. Soon, he feels a touch on his hip, sliding down to his plush thighs as he's groped right here and now — standing in front of the train wall with his hands bracing himself against it.

Panic floods in as the stranger grabs his crotch, rubbing two fingers over his slit — you both realize something in this moment; Sigma realizes that his secret may not be safe anymore, and the dangers that come with that, while you realize that you can touch this guy more discreetly like this.

Your fingers make quick work of his pants, opening them up just enough to reach inside and touch his pussy again. Despite the fact that your victim is shaking, he's already a bit wet before you're even inside. You tease him over his underwear for a second, then dive even deeper and finally touch his bare pussy.

With all of his remaining willpower, Sigma whispers a quiet plea for you to stop, and you can practically hear the tears welling in his eyes. You ignore him, of course, already sinking between his folds and groaning at the wetness oozing out just from that.

A stranger is fingering his cunt on public transit, and no one else seems to notice. Sigma can only pray that you stop before things escalate, or before you realize he's a trans man…maybe his long hair fooled you into thinking he's a girl?

That line of thought is shattered as Sigma presses his thighs together, biting back a squeal as you fingerfuck him so rough that he squirts a little, messing up his clothes as a result. As he cums, you lean closer to his ear and whisper a “Good boy~” before you readjust his clothing for him and disappear, presumably exiting the train.

You left the man as a panting, confused mess in his little corner. Left to wonder who violated him in an almost gentle way, compared to all of the horror stories Sigma read about. His pussy was still wet, and he swears that he didn't enjoy that…but the memory won't stop replaying in his mind as he lay in bed, squeezing his thighs together once again…dripping…aching…moaning…

Dazai

How bold do you have to be to think you could get away with this? Honestly, don't you recognize the man that you're attempting to grope? Do you really think there won't be consequences?

Well, ok, hear him out… You're not being rough right now — if anything, you're actually touching Dazai rather gently. Hands caress his sides, hidden by his large trench coat, sliding across his clothed abdomen almost romantically. The most you've done so far is rub his hips, not even trying to go for anything more private (yet).

What's the harm in letting this go on, seeing just where this will lead? Dazai's pretty strong, not a big muscle man, but strong enough to hold his own when need be. If things escalate too much, or he feels unsafe, he can simply reveal who he is and threaten to call the cops on you. But for now, he'll just let this play out.

You take a step closer, pushing Dazai further against the window, and he seizes the opportunity to reveal your identity in the reflection…except your face is buried in the back of his neck so he can't actually see who you are…

Dazai feels your warm breath tickling his skin, and he can feel you… wait, are you sniffing him? Really? What a creep, smelling some stranger while you're touching him. Jeez.

That's not the only thing Dazai notices though — he also feels what he assumes to be your hard-on poking his ass now that you're hugging his body tightly. You begin to move, and this is when Dazai should stop you…but he can't deny how…nice…this all feels. Especially when you reach forward and grab his hand, clasping his with yours in a strangely soft display–

Seriously, what a depraved, obsessive, sad creep you must be to hold a stranger's hand while you're smelling them and humping them on a public train. That's just not normal, dude.

There's not much more time to question anything, as you grind against Dazai's ass until your movements stutter, then eventually stop altogether. And he can guess by your heavy breathing that you just creamed your pants without ever truly touching your victim.

'How sad. That guy could easily get off by humping another guy on the train — who knows what dirty fantasies were running through his mind to make him cum like that.' Dazai thinks, stroking himself in the shower while he pictures your fat package gliding in between his cheeks again.

Chuuya

Honestly, Chuuya surprised himself when some strange man came up behind him and trapped him in the corner of the train and he didn't say a word of protest. Perhaps the shock was what prevented his usual reactions?

Shocked at how bold you were for grabbing a Port Mafia executive by the hips and forcing his ass to meet the tent in your pants, that is. Do you really think this is going to end well? Are you just so stupid that you have no idea who Chuuya is, and how easy it would be for him to use his special ability to pin you to the floor and knock your teeth out?

You're either stupid or desperate, or maybe both, but Chuuya can't think about that too much when you're already humping him so boldly. Sure, you're somewhat hidden in the corner, but does no one pay attention to the obvious motions?

Not only are you grinding against him so hard that he's forced to his tiptoes, you're untucking his shirt from his pants and sliding your hands underneath like it's totally normal! Quickly finding his nipples and toying with them so roughly that Chuuya has to cover his mouth to remain quiet.

His smaller body jerks with your every thrust, forced to submit to this gross act of depravity or else everyone on the train will find out that Chuuya Nakahara is a public use slut. His reputation would be destroyed!

So, he lets you have your way with him — thrusting your clothed erection against the curve of Chuuya's ass until you cum, grunting right into his ear — and then a familiar chime signals the opening of the train doors, and you exit, leaving the little guy high and dry and completely disheveled as his cock leaks inside of his boxers.

Now, a Port Mafia executive doesn't have any need to use public transport — he could easily use a private car or even a fucking helicopter if he wanted to — but, Chuuya finds himself taking the same train at the same time again tomorrow. This time, he's already standing in that corner, facing the wall to conceal his hard, throbbing cock, and to advertise himself as vulnerable prey.

[creamecafe]

Hello! First of all I want to tell you that I love your writings ❤️ Second, I wanted to ask you if you can't place an order for Hyun-ju. I love that woman. I would like an Angst, I'll leave it to your imagination. thank you ✨✨✨✨

You're The Only Exception

Summary: Between wanting to be accepted and saving a life, Hyun-Ju takes comfort and finds hope in you as the only exception.

Pairing: Hyun-Ju x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: angst, mentions of transphobia, transphobic, guilt, the death of Young-Mi, she deserved better 😭😭

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you enjoy it! I didn't know whether to put for angst that people were looking at her weird bc she's trans or her feelings guilty for not saving Young-Mi in time, so I used both

Guys please understand that writing this, I'm a cis woman, AFAB, please do let me know if there's things to change up as I want to get trans representation right.

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

If being in the games was hard for anyone, it would be for Hyun-Ju. Looking for acceptance in a place where you're fighting for your life isn't ideal.

The only comfort and trust she could find was in you and Young-Mi. You felt bad for her as nobody wanted to team up with her or really talk to her. It would be nice to get out of your comfort zone.

For the second game, you teamed up with Hyun-Ju, an old lady and her son, a younger girl named Young-Mi. You survived thank God, but still wanted to know Hyun-Ju more.

Back in the dormitory, she was comfortable telling you and the team about her identity and her whole backstory.

"I accept you Hyun-Ju."

Those words stuck with Hyun-Ju. It's all she ever wanted, to be accepted for who she is.

"You're safe here, you have us."

It was like the family and love have been waiting for her in this place. She just had to look more deeper.

Unfortunately, that comfort wasn't going to last long. For the third game, it was mingle. When the carousel stops spinning, there will be a number on the screen announced and you have to form groups of that number and lock yourself in a room before the timer runs out.

Hyun-Ju made sure to stay with you and Young-Mi, both of you alive and safe. Everything was going well until one round.

You, Hyun-Ju and many other players were running to get to a room safely. Unfortunately, Young-Mi accidentally got pushed and couldn't make it to the door on time.

Hyun-Ju notices this and tries to save her. You looked at the timer, knowing there wouldn't be enough time to save her and you and all the others in the room would be dead.

Another player, Myung-Gi goes in and locks the door. Young-Mi rushes to the door and cries for Hyun-Ju.

Hyun-Ju is yelling for her and the whole thing made you feel bad.

Bang

Young-Mi drops the ground and is unresponsive. Hyun-Ju grabs Myung-Gi by his shirt and starts yelling at him.

"It's your fault! I could have saved her!"

"If you did, you would be dead, and all of us would. What's better 1 dead person or a group of 6 people dead?" Myung-Gi exclaims

He had a point but you just knew Hyun-Ju wanted Young-Mi to live. You also wanted her to live as well.

After the game was over, Hyun-Ju was silent walking back to the dormitory.

You thought it would be best to talk to her as you are starting to become closer with her.

"Hyun-Ju? Are you ok?" Reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, Hyun-Ju turns to you.

"I could have saved her. I should have saved her. She didn't deserve to die." Hyun Ju looks down in shame

"If you went to save her, you would have been dead too then."

"She wanted out of the game Y/N. If I pressed X, instead of O, maybe it would have helped, I should have left the room-"

"It was a hard decision, I know and there wasn't a lot of time left. I wish she made it too, but there's nothing you really can do about it"

"She was one of the first people besides you that really accepted me."

"She would also want you to keep moving forward and get out of here. I do too."

Hyun Ju turns to you

"We'll get out of here and you'll get that surgery, and you'll move to where you want to go. I have faith in you Hyun Ju."

"You do?"

"Yes I do, and you should too"

There was a moment of silence between you too. Hyun-Ju was taking in what you said. For the next vote, she was determined to keep going and survive not only for Young-Mi, but also for you.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?"

"It's like you're the only exception in this place, out of everyone here, I'm glad to have met you and Young-Mi."

"I'm glad too Hyun-Ju, I'm glad too."

She holds out her hand and you take it. You gave it a tight squeeze as reassurance everything will be ok. And it will be.

As long as Hyun-Ju had you, everything and anything felt possible.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld, @magicalconnoisseurcoffee, @dxrlingluv, @ninahorikoshifr

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Hyun-Ju Masterlist | Join my taglist

[ghostofmarvel]

Thunderbolts* boys x trans masc!Reader p. links

Bucky Barnes, John Walker, & Robert "Bob" Reynolds

Warning: 18+/age of majority in which you’re residing. Absolutely NO minors to be interacting with this post or my blog. Please have your age in your bio.

Author’s Note: This is pure horny posting. Idk if anyone is even looking for this in specific but I needed it to exist so here it is. Support the sex workers who's video content this all belongs to.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x trans masc!Reader, John Walker x trans masc!Reader, Bob Reynolds x trans masc!Reader (+ trans!Bob Reynolds x trans masc!Reader)

Synopsis: It’s just porn. These guys are gay so here’s gay sex, enjoy. Reader is a trans masculine individual who has a tdick that is referred to as a dick.

Adults only. Horny posting warning. You're responsible for the content you consume.

18+ ONLY!!! Must be logged into twitter to view content.

Content ahead: porn without plot. Horny horny horny. All main performers in the videos ahead are trans masculine. Bucky has slight dacryphilia. This is pure filth. Enjoy.

Bucky Barnes

Bucky learns about tdicks from you, specifically in how much he wants to worship them, yours in particular.

He learns just how sensitive your dick is, learning that when he focuses on the tip of your dick you have the strongest reactions. He loves experimenting what makes you move the most so he knows how to make you cry from pleasure later.

He grows a deeper appreciation for doggy style as not only does he get to see your ass bounce with each thrust, his balls slap against your tdick each time he snaps his hips forward. He loves how fucking you in this position doubles your pleasure with each thrust as you whine over the sensations it brings.

While he’s away on a mission, you make sure to send him photos and a little video as a reminder of home <3

He nearly moaned when he first opened your message before realizing he was surrounded by his teammates. He rushed to excuse himself to the bathroom to look at what you sent him more closely. He nearly cums in his own pants watching you stroke your own cock, thinking of just how loudly you’d moan his name if it was his hand stroking you instead.

He sends this in response when he gets into the shower, a little reminder of who’s in charge.

Bucky has always been a fan of frotting, but dear god does he love frotting with your tdick, natural wetness spreading so heavenly, it’s origins unknown as you’re both a leaky moaning mess for each other, so wildly attracted to one another. Thankfully he learns just how much you love frotting, always making sure to rub cocks between fucking you deeply to get some extra lubricant.

John Walker

John Walker isn’t a stranger to gay activities, but he is new to having a trans partner. To say he’s mesmerized by your tdick would be no exaggeration as his eyes are constantly staring at it anytime he has the chance to.

He loves having you ride him in this position so he can look over your shoulder and watch you take his thick cock in, your own cock getting more erect as you feel more full with each sink down his length.

Though sometimes he can’t help himself from fucking himself into you. He’s just so impatient sometimes (a lot of times) and needs to take control of the pace because of course he knows what’s just right. He tells you to stroke your own cock while he stretches you out deeper and deeper.

When you train together he sometimes ends your sessions like this. He tells you it’s good for training, but you’re not sure what or who it’s for. Based off the way he moaning, you’re thinking it’s for him, possibly training his endurance?

Whenever he has a late/longer training session, he always ends up going into your room afterwards to let out any excess adrenaline left in him.

He loves bringing you close to orgasm before stopping his hand movements and encouraging you to get yourself off, grinding onto his hand.

Bob Reynolds

Bob loves tdick. A lot.

He loves sucking your dick. He could endlessly stay between your legs for hours if you let him. He just loves getting you to a state where you can’t help yourself from grinding your hips to meet his mouth, lost in a pleasure-drive state. He can’t help but be so proud of himself for getting you there.

Sometimes Bob gets lost in a pleasure-driven state, too enamored with how tightly you squeeze his cock he doesn’t even notice how slowly he’s moving. Too painfully slow for you, you fuck yourself back onto him to let him know it’s okay to fuck you faster, actively encouraging him to do so.

Teasing Bob by rubbing your cock against his cock and balls as he struggles not to cum early from the sensation of your cock against him.

T4T with trans!Bob Reynolds means:

Fucking your cock into him, something he only gets as a reward if he's good.

Bob loves fucking you until you’re legs are shaking. He never fails to make you squirt from overstimulation.

Fucking his mouth while he plays with a vibrator (or vice versa)

Author's Note: so yeah. Anyways. Let me know your thoughts. I'll be writing trans!Bob headcanons because yeah he's hot but also trans!Bob makes so much sense to me. This will have voidwalker because I fear I love them more each time I see them and art of them.

[butchizuku]

Vanilla Baby ᥫ᭡; Chigiri Hyōma + Nagi Seishiro

ᨳ Synop. Drunken confessions spilled to your boyfriend take the two of you to new heights with Hyōma's ex-situationship.

໋𓈒 Details. 18+ minors dni, reader is an author insert, they/them pronouns used to refer to reader, they are afab, they wear a dress and heels, wear makeup, have long curled hair, and fair skin. Threesomes, love confessions, hookups, alcohol consumption, reader is tipsy, trans masc!nagi, oral (reader receiving), teasing, hair pulling, fingering, strap on sex, double penetration, anal, creampies, reader is called puppy, past relationships, established relationships, Nagi and Chigiri are queer, run time; 7.5k ৎ

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) Director's Note. Repost from my previous blog as I really love this fic <3 Enjoy.

Bits and pieces of that night return to your fragmented memories through Hyōma’s teasing lilt and Seishiro’s knowing gaze. They make idle chit chat with reference to something you’re supposed to know. Like, an inside secret shared amongst the best of friends. You wouldn’t call Seishiro a friend. He was Hyōma’s teammate, colleague, and friend from high school. Whatever he was to you, he reached through Hyōma to you and nothing more. 

That’s why you numbed the pit of anxiety weighing you down with one too many espresso martinis. The heat on your skin and the buzz that thrummed against your rib cage distracted you from the nerves that tickled your belly and made your hands tremble. Seishiro’s languid gaze made you nervous. He studied you the same way he did the opposing team on the field. And he watched the way you squirm while holding conversation with Hyōma. You felt as though you were placed beneath a microscope to be inspected. For what? You couldn’t discern. 

Your tongue liked to loosen when warmth spread through your cheeks and your head felt pleasantly fuzzy. 

Hyōma learned many of your secrets drunkenly whispered across your pillow as he tucked you in for the night. Like your embarrassing John Green phase and the Edgar Allan Poe poetry you wrote whilst drowning within teenage angst. You were too nervous to admit them otherwise, always afraid that a big shot soccer player like him might find you too dorky or even weird if you were to confess all the little things that made you, you. Though sometimes you despised your propensity for growing so lax when you drank a little too much. 

The thought of confessing something to both Hyōma and Seishiro made your stomach turn uncomfortably and yet, the vision was so crystal clear in your head. You remember sitting between them on Seishiro’s sofa long after the evening had dwindled to a close. Your skin was warm and buzzing, your head lolled back as you gazed at Hyōma. They spoke words you didn’t understand. It wasn’t Japanese but your swimming mind struggled to follow.

“Can I tell you something, baby,” you giggled while sliding your hand up Hyōma’s arm, “Pretty please?”

His piercing ruby gaze shifted from Seishiro to you, “Of course,” he murmured, you remember him looking concerned, “You can tell me anything, my love.”

Your other hand grazed the length of Seishiro’s thigh, bringing his attention to you. Sleep had been in his eyes but he couldn’t bring himself to kick the two of you out. You weren’t sure why.

“It’s always been my biggest fantasy to be with two guys at the same time.”

You nodded your head like you were proud of yourself, a small “mhm” pressed against your lips as you allowed your eyes to fall shut. The memory made your face burn. You must have said something else, a comment insinuating the small crush you used to harbour on your boyfriend's teammate, or the very real and ever present attraction you felt for him. The thought made your stomach roll, in discomfort and in excitement. 

Hyōma wasn’t a stranger to fluidity, he indulged your curiosity on his past relationships more times than you could count. You had always been quite the opposite of him, calm and level headed whereas his blood pumped and rushed adrenaline through his body at the first sight of a challenge. Everything you had ever done was carefully planned out and meticulously imagined, you were made for monogamy and didn’t much like sharing but, there was something about Seishiro that felt a bit like fatal attraction. And, you liked it.

No matter how much you wracked your brain for anything more from that night, you couldn’t remember the expression Hyōma wore from your confession. Seishiro’s presence was like a gaping black hole in your brain. You remembered how big and rough his hands were, how warm it felt to be pressed in between the both of them, how his hair tickled your cheeks when he rested his head on your shoulder but nothing more. If you spilled your guts further, had named the man who was occupying the fantasies that played in your head on lonely nights, you couldn’t know, not if neither of them spoke a word to you.

That’s why you wilted at the latest gala Hyōma had invited you to, a sad and pathetic wallflower whose roots were beginning to rot.

The glass of champagne you kept clutched in your hands had warmed considerably after each fake sip you had taken from it. You didn’t want to worry Hyōma with your incessant waves of anxiety that made your knees feel weak and threatened to have you tumble to the floor if you took another step in those platform heels that were supposed to have been a source of comfort. The material of your silk gold gown clung to your sweat-dabbled skin uncomfortably. Images of clawing out of your skin flashed behind your eyelids with each blink you took. Your cheeks ached from the faux smile you glued to your lips but the thought of embarrassing your boyfriend was far too strong to force your mouth into the frown you wished to wear.

Reo gave you a strange look as he passed by, his arm wrapped firmly around the waist of his latest date but he said nothing. Shaking your head, you pushed yourself off the wall in search of the table you’d been assigned. Passing through throngs of bodies made your head spin. Heavy, heedy perfumes and colognes prickle your nostrils and feed the growing nausea in your belly. Your glass of champagne finds itself handed to the first waiter you see, an apologetic smile on your lips and a small “thank you” whispered into the crowd. 

Your glass of wine is filled to the brim. It sits neatly on the table beside your half picked at plate of hors d’oeuvres. An aperol spritz with mostly melted ice is placed beside your shiny gold clutch. Your plum hued lipstick sits around the rim. You don’t think before reaching out to grab it and down it all in a few gulps and procure your clutch once the glass is slammed back on the table. The low, warm lighting that filled the room felt romantic at the start of the night now just feels like a nuisance as you are shuffling through the galleria in search of a bathroom. Your heels click against the floor in an angry rhythm, your hair a tangled mess of curls that sticks to your lipgloss no matter how many times you push it over your shoulders.

The bathroom is stupidly ornate. With marble floors and counters, accented by gold and emerald encrusted mirrors, you feel small when you finally step into it. Thankfully, you find it empty and plop into the first chaise lounge you find. Your heart races and your chest feels uncomfortably tight. You haven't spoken much to Hyōma or Seishiro in the past few weeks. They had been busy with brand deals, training, and other public appearances. You had been sequestered in your apartment, staring at the half written paragraph of your latest novel. But, now that you were here with them even if it were at arms length, you couldn’t help but drift back to that night.

Memories of the past bleed with the scenes playing out in front of your eyes. With Hyōma in his rich, deep magenta shirt that had somehow begun to be slowly unbuttoned as the night progressed, and Seishiro in a pair of stupidly tight black dress pants, it became harder to deny the selfish, greedy little wants that ate away at your common sense. They looked good and smelled divine. You cunt throbbed with want, your head dizzy with arousal that you couldn't shake no matter how many times you pinched your thigh or dug your nails into the palms of your hand. It clung to you like a devious parasite, only to be satiated by giving into the carnal desires that you tried to keep at bay.

Pressing your thighs together, you shook your head in frustration, “This is so stupid!” You cursed to yourself, your voice bouncing off the lifeless white walls.

“What’s stupid?” a familiar voice asks, the bathroom door squealing open as they slide in, “Why are you hiding in here? Did something happen?

Concern laces Hyōma’s voice as he walks into view. His shirt has become even messier. Once pressed and steamed to perfection, was wrinkled with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His chest, gleaming in the bright light with sweat was in view, his shirt unbuttoned all the way to his belly button. The sparse beginnings of his happy trail peek through the opening. With a sigh, you press your hands to your forehead, forcing yourself to look away from him.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Hyōma kneels in front of you, his warm palms rest on your knees as he cranes his neck to get a good look at your hidden expression. Your body burns with shame and embarrassment. It stirs a pathetic whimper that you’re unable to suppress. His hands are soft, they slide beneath the hem of your dress as he coos to draw your attention. You don’t mean to do it, but your thighs part ever so slightly.

“It’s nothing, I'm just hot and my shoes are uncomfortable,” you whine, a half truth wasn’t a complete lie, “And I’m tired, the music is too loud, but I don’t want to make you leave early.”

Hyōma sighs softly, “If you’re not having a good time, then we can leave,” he peers up at you, eyes rounded and wide, “If my manager chews me out come Monday, I don’t care.”

“You should care.”

Your mouth dips into a pout, brows knitted together as you peer at him.

“I do, about you,” he says your name softly, pressing his thumbs into the fat of your thighs, “He’s always yelling at me about something or other, like the fact that I don’t post enough online.”

Cupping his cheeks, you lean down until your nose brushes against his, “I love you,” you whisper, your hair slipping over your shoulder as you inch closer to him. Your breath fans across his face and his lips part in anticipation.

Hyōma’s eyes flutter shut when your lips brush against his. A needy whine bubbles up and slips into his mouth as you kiss him, a shiver dancing up your spine. The few loose strands that have slipped past his neatly styled bun tickle your fingers which ache to tangle themselves within his hair, but had spent so much time getting pretty for you. He slides the skirt of your dress further up your thighs where the fabric bunches to expose the slightest bit of your frilly, lace panties. Panting into your mouth, Hyōma slots himself between your legs, pressing closer until he’s flush against you.

You’re vaguely aware that the door is unlocked. Anyone could walk in. With the music and conversation dulled by marble walls, you find yourself getting lost in Hyōma’s touch, searching for relief from weeks worth of tension that gathered in your belly. Without thinking, you slide your hand down his shoulder and the length of his arm and wrap your fingers around wrist, bringing his hand between your thighs. 

“I love you too,” he says before nipping at your bottom lip.

His fingers glide across the seam of your cunt, pushing against the fabric to rub a circle into your stiff clit. Your nails bite into scalp as you thread your fingers into his hair for purchase. The loud, heedy moan that pours past your lips effortlessly smothers the sound of the bathroom door slowly creaking open and then, gently clicking shut. It’s not the sound of dress shoes dragged against marble or even the sharp breath that rouses you; it’s the feeling of eyes, heavy on your figure. You know it well. Languid, yet startlingly intense, turning soft brown irises piercing. It was Seishiro. 

Your eyes snap open, meeting Seishiro’s in a heated exchange, “Hyōma,” you call, the last syllables of his name curling into a moan, “Baby, Sei- He’s…”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Seishiro murmurs, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Hyōma curses under his breath, peeling back to peer up at Seishiro. He has to crane his neck uncomfortably upward to meet Seishiro’s gaze. He stares languidly down at your boyfriend for a moment before settling back onto you, grazing over the sight of your hiked up dress and bare thighs. Licking his lips, Seishiro lets out a chuckle.

“Seriously, don’t stop.”

You wilt under his stare, your face warming in embarrassment, “Don’t be mean Seishiro,” you mumble, pulling your dress down to preserve some modicum of modesty. 

He exchanges a look with Hyōma as if to speak silently, leaving you looking between the two like a gaping fish in search of water.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Hyōma is quick to interject, crowding into your vision, “Seishiro was just going to leave.”

Your mouth drops into a frown, your brows pinching together, “No,” you protest, crossing your arms over your chest, “What was that look?”

“What look?” Hyōma sheepishly asks, wearing his guilt like an accessory.

“The look you gave Seishiro, the two of you have been looking at eachother like that since the last time we all got together,” you accuse, your pointed stare darting between the two of them, “Did I say something stupid? I’ve been racking my brain for weeks but all I remember is mentioning that I want to have a threesome.”

Seishiro snorts out a laugh, “You don’t remember what you said afterward?” You shake your head, “no,” nervously tugging at the hem of your dress. 

“Seishiro don’t,” Hyōma cuts in, “They’re already embarrassed enough.”

“No, I wanna know.”

Rarely, does Hyōma get worked up or frustrated off the soccer pitch. The look he sends Seishiro is enough to send a shiver down your spine. His usually gentle fuschia eyes narrowed and filled with the same fury you often see directed towards his rivals. Seishiro seems unbothered, running his fingers through his pale blonde hair with an eye roll.

“You told us that your ideal threeway would be the three of us,” he smoothly explains, his lips quirking up into a smirk, “You really don’t remember this?”

“Obviously not,” Hyōma sneers before turning back to you, squeezing your thighs to put your attention onto him, “Why don’t we get out of here hm, baby? Forget about all this?”

“I told you, I don’t want you to get in trouble, you’re supposed to be getting sponsors for the football club.”

Your answer doesn’t seem to placate your boyfriend. Biting down on your bottom lip, your frown presses deeper into your face. Your belly lurches with uncertainty as Hyōma sighs.

“They’re not wrong,” Seishiro points out, rocking on the balls of his feet, “I only followed you guys ‘cause our club manager wanted us to thank the owner of this place.”

Rising to his full height, Hyōma stands before you with his hands crossed over his chest, “Do you want to fuck my fiancé?” He asks, pointedly, “Because we agreed we wouldn’t mention it unless they brought it up first.”

“I must’ve forgotten.”

Seishiro shrugs his shoulders without a care in the world. His lazy smile growing wider by the second as Hyōma’s hackles rise.

“Bullshit,” he says, taking a step closer to the other man.

“Fine, I didn’t,” Seishrio confesses, his hands held up in mock surrender, “I wanna fuck your fiancée … And I want to fuck you, Hyōma.”

Hyōma baulks in shock, swallowing thickly, “Sei…” He mutters, “Stop messing around.”

They had history. It was often left unspoken, gifted to the wind and sands of time. Whatever it was, it was meant to die with the thousand other secrets buried in the back of locker rooms and in the middle of grassy fields. The tension was palpable even when you found yourself stepping into the picture, it only intensified, never able to dissipate no matter how entangled you became with Hyōma.

“I’m not.”

Swallowing, with shaky legs you force yourself to stand and step between them, “Stop bickering like children,” you hiss, wobbling a bit as you try to stay balanced on your heels, “Stop bickering and … and fuck me.”

Your chest heaves, nerves prickle beneath your blazing skin. Seishiro looms over you, stupidly tall, gangly, and scarily silent. Hyōma watches the two of you with wide eyes, his plush lip pressed between the blunt edge of his teeth. A gasp is wretched from your throat as Seishiro’s fingers glide up the length of your throat to the underside of your jaw, tipping your head back until your eyes meet. His muddy grey irises bore into you, searching for something you’re quite unsure of.

You can’t help but squirm as he tilts his head down, his breath fanning across your face before he takes the plunge and kisses you.

A full body shiver rolls through you and spurs you to twist your body out of his grasp, pushing your chest flush against his. Your hands find his hair without a second thought, tangling into the surprisingly soft, fluffy white strands. Seishiro moans into your mouth, his large, rough hands desperately grasping the fat of your hips. Hyōma saddles up behind you, his cock pressed snug against your ass. He pushes your hair away from your shoulder, exposing your sweat dabbled skin to him, pressing a balmy kiss to the flesh. 

“Hyōma,” your whimper into Seishiro’s mouth, “Be gentle, please.”

“Mhm,” he hums before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, hard enough that it’ll surely leave a mark.

Seishiro reaches past you to grab a fistful of Hyōma’s crisp shirt, furling the fabric around his fingers as if to meld the three of you together. Your cunt clenches with need, there's a thigh between your legs, you’re unsure whose it is but the pressure feels heavenly against your tender, aching clit.

The sound of pounding fists against the bathroom draws you from your stupor.

“Hey! Is anyone in there, the doors locked?”

“You locked the door, Sei?” You question, slipping out from between them to find your clutch, “Good, ‘cause I really don’t want a picture of the three of us being sold to the tabloids.”

Hyōma runs his fingers through his hair, “It’d be good publicity for your upcoming novel.”

Seishiro nods in agreement.

“Mm yes ‘cause getting caught in the bathroom at a soccer gala for underprivileged kids is going to make people wanna read sapphic courtly love.”

Brushing them off, you saunter up to the door, your clutch in tow, “Hey! The door won’t open. Can you find someone to come let me out?”

At the muffled sound of their agreement and trailing footsteps you gesture for your two men to follow you out.

“I’ll go grab our coats, Sei go call a car to take us back to mine,” Hyōma instructs, already two steps toward the main ballroom.

“On it!” Seishiro mumbles with a slight salute.

The two of you walk silently outside the venue, occasionally bumping elbows. The gust of cool evening air does little to soothe the flames that lap at your inner thighs. Your need only grows stronger as Seishiro slumps against you, his rich cologne crowding your senses. 

He hums a bit, nuzzling his face into your hair, “You’re so warm,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around your belly, “‘N smell so nice, like vanilla.”

You giggle, your head feeling dizzy from the attention.

“I’m already gonna sleep with you, you don’t have to sweet talk me,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “But … I won’t stop you if you wanna, I like it.”

“‘M not sweet talking you, it’s the truth.”

The bubbly feeling that tickles your chest has you idly realising why he had so many fans. He didn’t speak much in interviews, he much preferred to slink away to the locker room to shower and get home for a nap, but when he did he laid it on thick. Even the most professional journalists blushed and fluttered under his languid gaze. Honeyed words all too easy to slip off his tongue. Your heart jumped as your thoughts drifted into indecent territory.

“Are you taking good care of my baby?” Hyōma asks as he bounds down the stairs, his arms filled with coats and goody bags, “Are you cold sweetheart?”

You shake your head, offering him a small smile.

“I’m cold, come warm me up,” you can hear the pout in voice, his arms wrapping around you just a little bit tighter.

“The car should be here any minute, you’ll be nice and warm soon enough.”

Still, Hyōma does his best to wrap his arms around the both of you, leaving on hand to cradle all the odds and ends in his possession. Seishiro purrs in contentment, like a sweet kitten only to sour when he sees the uber pull up to the curb. You find yourself squished between the two of them in the backseat, though the passenger side was empty save for their jackets. 

The thirty minute ride to your shared apartment with Hyōma feels more like an hour. Their hands wonder. Fingers poke and prod at your thighs, flitting up the hem of your dress until they were flashed with a bit of panty. Warm palms pressed on your shoulders and snaked their way beneath your top to feel up your tits. Blood pooled along the length of your bottom lip, the skin broken and raw from how your teeth dug into the flesh to smother any pesky moans that threatened to escape.

In the five minutes it takes to walk from the curb to the front door, you find yourself aching, hardly able to push Seishiro away. His palm was pressed against your cunt, humming to himself as Hyōma fumble around with the keys. Your shoes were kicked off into some dark corner, left to be found tomorrow afternoon, the moment the door flew open. Belts, socks, and shirts were discarded somewhere on the staircase. You feel suffocated by your nerves once you enter your bedroom, so exposed as you make yourself comfortable by the headboard.

Hyōma and Seishiro sit across from you, waiting for you to make the next move.

Maybe it was the fresh air that sobered you up, or if being inside your home made the precarious nature of this situation feel real. You decide to throw caution to the wind and pull off your slip dress. The intensity of their stares make you burn from the inside out. Hyōma’s gaze is filled with familiarity as he roves over each curve and dimple he knew all too well. Seishiro explores your body with all the eagerness of an untrained house puppy, drinking in the sight of your beauty marks and long since healed scars.

You’ve Seishiro half dressed before, but the sight of flushed skin and kiss bitten lips are new. You liked it more than you thought you would.

“You are so fucking pretty,” Seishiro mumbles, his eyes darting from your chest to face in a matter of seconds.

“Thank you, Sei, you’re not too bad yourself.”

Hyōma rolls his eyes, laughing, “What they mean to say is you look good,” he murmurs, biting his lip.

“You think so, pretty boy?”

He nods, a retort balanced precariously on the tip of his tongue.

“You should know better than anyone that Hyōma only ever says what he means,” you quip, sucking in a shaky breath.

The two men stare at each other for a moment. Another silent conversation but this time you’re able to read it a bit better. Years worth of tension and denied feelings bubble up to the surface, it's palpable and steals the breath from your lungs. You’re unsure who leans in first but soon enough, their hands are tangled in one another's hair, a grunt and a groan melting into the other's mouths as they kiss. It’s intimate, just as intimate as the kisses you share with Hyōma, you almost want to look away but you can’t. Your eyes refused to be pulled away. Their tongues taste and their teeth bite, lapping ichor and sweat, and the final years of their youth. 

You only blink when your eyes begin to burn. It is then that you remember you were sitting across from them, not simply a voyeur intruding with their peering when your name is passed between their mouths like a soccer ball. You're unsure who it comes from and who it is that echoes the sentiments with his own throaty groan.

Your palms begin to sweat. They turn your attention to you almost as if it were instinctive. Perhaps you squeaked or let out a throaty groan of your own, the sheer eroticism too much for your feeble body to handle.. You feel like prey, pinned between too hungry predators doused in blood and too tempting for them to ignore. Hyōma strikes first, laying one open palm upon the swell of your knee, smoothing his calloused fingers around the flesh as if to sample before tasting. Seishiro hangs back, apprehensive and calculated. He’s trying to pick the situation apart and find the best angle of attack.

“I like this set,” Hyōma murmurs, his back arching as he splays his body across the bed, “So soft, hugs everything just right, did you wanna look pretty for us?”

You find yourself nodding even though it wasn’t true, puffing your chest out a little but more as if to put yourself on display. Seishiro nods too, shuffling closer. The bed creaks under his weight, the old iron wrought metal as loud and squeaky as it always is. Perhaps, it’s louder amid the pregnant pause that hangs in the air. 

“Wanna take it off for us?”

Seishiro swallows when he’s finished speaking, draping himself across Hyōma’s body. Hyōma’s calf rests between Seishiro’s thighs. You don’t miss the pleased little sigh he releases.

Using your index finger, you slowly slide one bra strap down your shoulder blade. They watch with bated breath as you expose more of your sunkissed skin, and the tanlines you tried so hard to hide with your outfit for the evening. The other strap comes off faster, Hyōma’s squeezed your thigh in encouragement. Adoration swims in his irises. Somehow, it’s even stronger than it typically is, as if at any moment it’d leap out from his eyes and wrap itself around you.

Being watched makes you simper demurely, shyly using your hair to cover your breasts when you’re finally able to get the bra clasp undone. You don’t know who to look at, Seishiro who grinds himself into Hyōma, or Hyōma who touches you like you’re the finest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon.

Summer’s treated you well. It’s evident in how you glow in spite of your frayed nerves.

“Should I keep going?” You timidly ask, placing your hand overtop of Hyōma’s.

He shakes his head, tangling his fingers with yours, “No, let Sei take your panties off.”

Seishiro perks up like a puppy at the sound of his name, nodding his head before he’s fully registered what was being suggested. 

“I wanna take ‘em off … Maybe keep ‘em too? You won’t mind right sweetheart?”

“No, you can keep them,” you mumble without missing a beat, laying further back against the headboard, some of your catches on the swirling metal but you pay it no mind and melt into the cushions. Your legs spread, “If you get me another pair.”

Your inner thighs feel sticky. Surely, the pale white lace has gone translucent exposing your tender clit and the pink of your pussy hidden behind your bush. The gust of air that hits your cunt makes you tremble. Seishiro’s hands warm you right back up as they trail up your thighs, his thumbs effortlessly hooking around the waistband. Your heart drops and all the air in your lung evaporates as Sei’ shamelessly burrows his nose into your cunt and takes a deep breath before he peels the fabric away.

He hums happily to himself, pocketing your underwear without hesitation, “Can I taste you?” He asks with big, round eyes, “Pretty please?”

“You’re devilish Sei’, you know they can’t say no to your puppy eyes.”

Hyōma laughs but joins Seishiro between your legs, his long red hair spilling across thigh, “Let us taste you my love.”

Not that you were in any position to deny them, so badly wanting more than just a whisper of a touch, but Hyōma didn’t ask. He was telling you. Your chest fluttered, making you feel weightless as you spread your thighs a bit wider to accommodate them.

“Please,” you whimper, your hips twitching upwards, “Eat me out, my pussy’s so needy.”

“I know baby, I know.”

Hyōma cradles the back of Seishiro’s head, his nails pressing into his scalp, pushing his face into your cunt. Sei moans unabashedly into you, the reverberation sending pleasure zipping up your spine.

“Taste good, don’t they?” Hyōma asks, his lips against the shell of Sei’s ear. 

You think he nods his head, but it’s difficult to tell as he sucks your clit into his mouth, his nose deeply buried in the thatch of curls. All you see is tousled white hair and Hyōma’s smirking visage. 

“Yeah, that’s it, good boy Sei.”

“Oh fuck,” you groan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your nails scrape against your bed sheets as you fail to gain purchase. Grounding yourself is a fruitless endeavour because Hyōma is quick to brush his lips along the length of your inner thigh, savouring how your soft skin feels against him. Your arousal and Seishiro’s spit slowly oozes between your cheeks, soaking the fabric beneath you. It feels obscene. Your chest might burst any moment from how your heart races so roughly, rattling your ribcage. When Hyōma’s tongue slips out from between his lips you fear you may have died and splayed before you was something out of your wildest fantasies.

Hyōma’s tongue joins Seishiro’s in lapping up the taste of you.

Their tongues slide against one another, up and down the length of your slit before settling on your clit. It’s wet, you’re wet, incredibly so. Your pussy pulses as your orgasm builds, your body growing taunt. The bedframe jiggles and squeaks when you throw your head back, the dull thrum of pain is hardly registered. Your mind’s a shifting sea of  rapturous pleasure that blinds you of anything else. 

There isn’t an inch of you left untouched.

Hyōma’s nails pierce your doughy thighs, little crescent moons blossom on the surface of your skin. Pink and pulsating from where it’s broken and begun to bleed. Seishiro strokes your hip and the underside of your knee, coiled around your body like he’s afraid you’re a mirage that’ll fade away before his very eyes. Your body feels as though it's been dosed in hot lava, it swirls along the dip of your belly button and seeps between your organs until you squirm in search of reprieve.

A soft jumble of their names drips down your tongue and oozes past your lips, “Right there, right there please,” you pleaded to no one in particular, “Please, I wanna cum.”

They melted into a singularity. Their touch and quick pants of heady breath indiscernible as you squeezed your eyes shut. Tongues swirl around your clit, drool and slick drip down their chins. With sloppy slurps and obscene moans, you find yourself on the precipice of completion. Tiptoeing closer and closer with each flit of their tongue, and the sloppy kisses that are pressed around your slit.

Somehow, your hands find their hair. 

Tired of uselessly grappling with your duvet, your fingers dig into their scalps. Eliciting even more debauched groans, a myriad of them fall right into you. Your thighs twitch and seize, your body growing stiff as pleasure bleeds down your torso and seeps through every pore, every piece of you. The fluttering feeling in your chest intensifies as your orgasm crashes into you. You release a wanton whimper, you cunt throbbing as you cum. 

Your back arches off the bed almost painfully, only to give way as your muscles turn to jello. You collapse against the bed with a huffy moan, a giggle bubbling up at the sight of Hyōma and Seishiro’s tousled hair. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” Sei asks, peering up at you from between your legs, “We made you cum and you’re laughing at us?”

Slick and spit make his lips and chin shiny, “Aren’t they such a brat?” Hyōma murmurs, resting his chin on Sei’s shoulder, “They should be thanking us for making them feel so good.”

Seishiro nods in agreement, a sly smirk growing on his lips, “You should be thanking us like this,” clearing his throat, he puts on a terrible impression of you, “Thank you Hyō, thank you Sei for making me cum soooo hard!”

“I don’t sound like that!” You pout with an eye roll, “I was laughing because you guys look cute all messy like this.”

Hyōma leans forward, his half clothed body pressing against your tender bare skin, “You think we’re cute? Well I think you’re absolutely adorable, puppy.”

“Hyō…. Not in front of Sei!”

Your embarrassed whines are smothered by the gentle kiss he pressing into your mouth. The taste of you lingering on his tongue fills your senses. Salted skin and the bitter tinge of your essence is laved over you. Your tongues meld against one another, desperate heady moans clashing with each.

“What? Embarrassed that you like being called puppy?”

Seishiro sits up, stretching his arms above his head. His unbuttoned dress pants sit low on his hips, exposing the wispy tendrils of his happy trail. He laughs at your expression, filled with mirth. Slipping his hand beneath the waistband of his underwear, he curses beneath his breath.

“I think it’s cute, puppy,” he murmurs, biting his lip, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The wink he sends you distracts you from Hyōma who’s weaved his fingers into your knotted curls and begun to suckle on your neck. His cock strains against his pants, his pre leaking through the fabric and smearing on your skin.

“You guys are the worst!”

“Don’t be a brat,” Hyōma mutters, before turning to Seishiro, “Can you come help be unzip, Sei?”

They hover above you, their hands roaming over each other's bodies. Clothing is tugged off on and thrown carelessly to the floor. Hyōma’s flushed, weeping cock stands stiffly to attention and drips precum all over your blanket. Seishiro’s wispy little happy trail leads your eyes to the fluffy blush that adorned his pelvis. Arousal hung like webs around the thatch of hair, his puffy, throbbing t-dick just barely peeking out. 

You trail your fingertips along the length of Seishiro’s torso, gently following along the scar that runs beneath his chest. His body is quick to react to your touch, he shivers, the muscles in his tummy fluttering ever so slightly. He moans when Hyōma gently combs his fingers through his pubes, just barely touching his dick. 

“You’re so wet Sei,” he comments with a smirk, “Did eating out my sweet puppy out really turn you on that much?”

Seishiro nods, his hand shooting out to curl around Hyōma’s bicep. 

“You’re so sensitive, baby.”

He nods again, pressing his body lip between his teeth. His grey eyes darken with, lust and urgency swim amongst his irises, “Don’t tease me,” he grits, frowning, “I’ll cum.”

“Just from that?” You ask, shifting to sit on your knees, “You really are so sensitive Sei, that’s really hot.”

Brushing the tip of your finger around his areola, you tentatively give his nipple a tweak. Seishiro jolts into your touch, “If you keep doing that, I-,” he warns before clamping his lips shut.

“Just from a little bit of touching?”

The corner of your mouth quirks upward as you peer at him, watching as his mouth falls open and out comes a coquettish whimper that makes your blood run hot with desire. His sloppy cunt squelches obscenely as Hyōma jerks him off, his neck bared to you as he throws his head back in ecstasy. Tweaking his nipples, you graze the tender skin of his jugular before planting a soft kiss to blossoming bruises.

“‘M sensitive,” he moans your name with a pathetic little expression adorning his features.

Seishiro falls apart under your ministrations quickly. He gushes all over Hyōma’s hand, his body twitching with pleasure from each brush and tug of your hands. Slumping against you, Seishiro lets out a quiet little mewl, tears of pleasure prickling at the corner of his eyes and dripping down your shoulder.

“We know baby,” Hyōma coos passively, soothing to Sei’s scrambled brain, “We know you are.”

Giving his cock a swift tug, Hyōma grunts prettily, using his precum to lube up his cock. A whine builds at the back of your throat, so quickly you can hardly stop it from spilling out and drifting over to Hyōma and Seishiro’s ears.

“You want us inside you puppy?”

You nod, afraid and untrusting of your voice.

“Go get Sei your strap-on,” he instructs, nodding his head towards the bedside table on your side of the bed.

Your strap on, lacked any straps or harness in the traditional sense. It’s sleek and silicon, rosy pink in colour, and sometimes vibrates if you remember where you put the remote. Grabbing the bottle of strawberry scented lube, you sat in between Hyōma and Seishiro.

“Spread your legs for me Sei,” you whisper, tentatively stroking his pelvis, “That’s it, that’s a good boy.”

A shudder wracks through Seishiro as you gently push the bulbous end of the feeldoe into him, gathering up his arousal to guide it inside with ease. He groans as the flared tip sits snug against his engorged, throbbing dick. Squirting a bit of lube into the palm of your hand, you stroke the strap, watching with a pleased smirk as Seishiro’s eyes grow lidded.

“Fuck,” he curses beneath his breath.

Batting your lashes at him you murmur in a sultry tone “Can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you state, giggling at the Japanese he spits out in response.

“Don’t tease him too much,” Hyōma chides with a smug expression, “He won’t hesitate to return it tenfold, my love.”

“Just like you do?”

He hums in agreement,“Come suck me off?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

“Help me Sei!”

Hyōma’s fingertips follow the length of your spine as you sink into all fours before him. He traces shapes into your skin and drags his nails against the flesh until you shiver. Seishiro mirrors your position, eager and awaiting your instruction. Drawing him in for a kiss, you wrap your hand around Hyō’s cock, languidly drawing your hand up and down.

Seishiro chases your kiss, following as you bring your head in front of Hyōma’s weeping tip. Sliding your tongue along the underside you follow the throbbing, prominent vein. Sei is sloppy but his fervent pursuit of pleasure makes up for it tenfold. He kisses your mouth over Hyōma’s cock, his free hand gently fondling his full balls.

Above you, Hyōma mutters something in Japanese. It’s not a phrase you recognise, no matter how you strain your ears you can’t begin to discern what it is he may have said. Whatever it is, it makes Seishiro flush, drool slipping down his chin as he suckles on Hyōma’s cock. He presses his eyes shut, embarrassment written across every inch of his skin.

“Open your eyes baby,” you coo, tugging on Seishiro’s messy white hair, “Want you to see me, Sei.”

His eyes flutter open, almost at your command. Large, slate grey irises tentatively peer back at you, mouth full of cock. 

“I need to be inside you,” Hyōma moans, his nails digging into your flesh.

“Please.”

You murmur around his cock, your eyes turned upward. Hyōma’s throat bobs as he swallows. Sweat drips down his lush body, his skin glistens deliciously. Sei mirrors you, gazing up at him with wide eyes and blush kissed cheeks.

Pulling off his cock with a pop, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Lipstick is smudged across, you notice it’s smeared across Hyōma’s dick, his lips, his neck, Sei’s too. 

“I need you both inside me.”

Hyōma lays against the pillows, pulling you by the hips to settle in his lap. His cock slides across your slick folds and you can’t help but moan. Seishiro kneels behind you, quiet and tender. The strap-on nudges against your ass cheek as he grabs your hips, his face nuzzling into your shoulder.

More lube is squirted between your cheeks and along Seishiro’s length. Bracing yourself against Hyōma’s shoulders, you bite your lip as his cock is nudged against your drooling hole. He sinks you down slowly, your walls stretching open to accommodate his girth. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, your heart skipping a beat as you’re filled. 

Seishiro plunged his pointer finger into your ass, slowly working you open. 

“Sei, please I need you,” you beg, twisting your neck around to look at him, “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

“You heard them, be a good boy and fill them up, Seishiro.”

Seishiro snorts a laugh, “You’re so needy huh,” he quips, “All bark and no bite.”

Whatever witty retort you might have had dies before it can reach your tongue. Your breath and words are stolen from you with a swift quickness as Seishiro eases the tip of his strap against your asshole. The stretch burns but the pain effortlessly melds into pleasure. Hyōma’s fingers play with your clit, rolling soothing circles that make your head spin around and round.

“Shut up, Sei!” You grit with a pant of breath, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he bottoms out.

You’re full, incredibly so. 

Your limbs feel as though they’ve turned into led and weigh a hundred more pounds. You rest your head upon Hyōma’s chest, you can hear his stuttering heartbeat erratically pound against his ribcage as he slowly lifts your hip upwards until only their tips remain inside of you.

“You feel so good around me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Gonna make me cum, God I’m so hard for you.”

The fluttery feeling makes a home in your chest, wrapping around your sternum and melting all the way down to your toes. Their cocks grind against each other whilst inside you, the feeling of it makes you stupid. There isn’t a single thought that fills your head, just pleasure. Heavy, thick sea of mind numbing pleasure that you wouldn’t dare to find yourself out from.

Hyōma throbs within you, Seishiro’s slick drips onto your ass as they drill into you at a surprisingly even pace. You vaguely register the sound of them kissing above you, you’re too fucked out to lift your head and watch. 

“Please,” you mumble into Hyōma’s skin for no reason in particular, “Please baby.”

The tension in your belly bursts quickly, your cunt squirt and throbbing as you cum. You feel it gush out of you, soaking both men and the blankets below you. Seishiro lets out a muffled sound of surprise, it’s followed by a chuckle and then a grunt. Hyōma twitches inside you, he’s on the bring too, cooing words in Japanese that cause Sei to move faster, fucking into you like it was his goal to make you addicted to the feeling of him driving his cock into you. 

“That’s it, good boy Sei,” Hyōma grunts, biting Seishiro’s bottom lip, “Good puppy, squeezing my cock so tight.”

Warmth spreads through you as he fills you up with his cum. Your head feels dizzy as you lay flat against him, your thighs twitching and inky darkness edging at the corners of your vision. His hips stutter for a moment as he chases his release, pumping his seed back into your hole. Seishiro pushes your hair to the side and plants a sloppy kiss to the nape of your neck. He collapses onto you, crushing you between the two of them.

“Fuck, I love you guys,” Sei murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso.

Your body breaks out in goosebumps, shock thrumming through your veins. Did he just say that? Did he mean it? Or, was it just the post orgasm bliss speaking? Sometimes, he and Isagi joked that stupid often fell out of their mouths when they spoke before thinking.

“I love you guys,” you find yourself saying, linking your fingers with Hyōma’s he gives you a squeeze before humming.

“I love you two.”

© All content belongs to butchizuku. You are not allowed to modify, translate, redistribute, or plagiarize in anyway. Do not recommend outside of tumblr (tiktok, wattpad, twitter etc).

[tjalexandernyc]

He's got a cover! May I please introduce A Gentleman's Gentleman, out March 11, 2025 from Vintage Books.

You can help support my m/m trans historical romance right now, though! Please consider preordering from your bookshop of choice, adding it to your to-read list on GoodReads or Storygraph, or requesting your local library procure a copy (that's ISBN 9780593686201 in the US, 9780008716332 in the UK).

Note to UK folks: your version will be titled The Earl Meets His Match and will have a different cover (TBD).

Synopsis:

From the acclaimed author of Chef's Kiss, a groundbreaking trans Regency romance that's both delightfully witty and refreshingly iconoclastic. The notoriously eccentric Lord Christopher Eden is a “man of unusual make” and even more unusual habits: he prefers to live far from the prying eyes and ears of the ton, and would rather have the comfortable company of his childhood cook and his aged butler than the swarm of servants and hangers-on befitting a man of his station. But Christopher’s pleasant, if occasionally lonely life is upended when he receives word from his lawyers that, according to his late father’s will, he must find a wife by the end of the Season if he intends to keep his family’s fortune and the Eden estate. Christopher cannot imagine a worse fate: as he isn’t attracted to women, his chances of making a wife happy are slim. Furthermore, if his quest to marry has any hope of succeeding, he must move to London posthaste and acquire some more suitable staff. Enter James Harding, Christopher’s new, distractingly handsome—if rigidly traditional—valet. After a rocky start, the two strike up a fragile friendship amid the throes of the London Season . . . a friendship that threatens to shatter under the looming shadow of Christopher’s impending nuptials—and the secrets both men are keeping. With its heady combination of dry wit, slow-burn romance, and a nuanced portrait of trans identity, A Gentleman’s Gentleman stands to transform the historical romance genre as we know it.

Cover design by Mark Abrams

Photography by Alun Callender

Modeling by Zack Pinsent of Pinsent Tailoring

[abbyssgf]

𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• concept: spring was coming and with that spring cleaning, during cleaning the basement with sevika you pleased her to lift the boxes so you could glance at her muscular arms. when sevika noticed it the both of you ended up having a sex against the wall<3

• words: 2.0k

• warnings: trans!sevika, sevika has a dick, pet names; baby, babe, darling, etc, sex against the wall, dirty talk, cursing, yeah that's probably all

• author note: that's was so fucking good to write, omfg. I need to calm down after writing this anyway enjoy the fanfic! :P

Spring was coming so it was obvious that you and Sevika had to do the spring cleaning of your house, mostly you wanted to throw away things you no longer need 'cause you didn't want to have essential things in your home knowing you or your wife won't use it.

Right now both of you were packing things you didn't use from your basement, sitting on the floor in your basement. Sevika was wearing a black tank top which showed off her muscular arms and you couldn't just stop looking at her and her well toned body. She also wore short black baggy shorts that she had pulled down to her waist so her abs when she raised her arms were also very visible to your eyes.

Sevika didn't notice at first your glances towards her 'cause she was mostly focused on packing things she didn't need, she didn't want to distract herself 'cause you scolded her one time for being distracted and not doing her tasks but now you weren't even better. All of you could think about is Sevika and her well muscular body, how those arms feel around your body and how good those hands would feel on your hips while she would fuck you from the back-

Your cheeks flushed and you shake your head to calm yourself down. After all, from the both of you, you were the one who wanted to do the work as quickly as possible but now you weren't even able to focus because of your wife.

"babe" Sevika’s voice stopped your thoughts and your eyes met. "everything is okay?" she asked with a gentle voice, she noticed that you were a bit doze off and it concerned her, god, only is she knows why you were a little bit off.

"no, everything is okay, baby, you don't have to worry," you said to Sevika and smiled at her, trying to convince her that you were absolutely okay. more than okay. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" she asked and you nodded "uh-huh"

Then an idea comes to your mind "I've packed the things, could you please lift it and… carry it to the living room?" you asked your wife and she agreed. "Of course, babe" sevika answered and picked her own box and then your, without knowing she flexed her muscles and she disappeared into the living room.

"fuck" you cursed under your breath not knowing why you couldn't focus on the tasks. You grab another box and start placing things into this. not longer than a minute, sevika showed up again in the basement and looked at you. She walked up to you and leaned to place a kiss on your head, you looked up at her and slightly frowned. "what?" you asked and she just smiled "nothing, I just wanted to kiss my beautiful wife" she responded and you playfully rolled your eyes.

"come back to work" you said to sevika and she sighed, pretending to be irritated. "what if I don't want to?" She asked with a sly smirk and you looked at her "sevika" you scolded her and she rolled her eyes playfully, she knew to better not to tease you when you started to call her her full name "alright, alright" she murmured and in a silence the both of you continued to packing the boxes.

In a few moments you and Sevika packed a few boxes and every single one you asked (politely and gently of course) your wife to lift them up for you 'cause as you said to her 'it was too heavy' and you couldn't do it.

When Sevika lifted up a really one light box she raised her brow and looked down at you "Sweetie" she started which made you look up to see her gray eyes "it's light, you can lift it up by yourself" she noticed and started to notice something about your behavior.

"oh" you murmured trying to play, shocked, you stood up and smiled shyly to her "well, I didn't notice it, vika" you answered to her and your gaze accidentally slipped down to her muscular arms and then to her eyes. She caught it. That was it. A sly smirk came on her lips and you knew that your little evil plan had been discovered.

"you just wanted me to lift those boxes up so you could look at my arms, baby?" Sevika asked you in a playful tone, teasing you knowing damn well that the answer was positive. She dropped the box carefully and took a step forward to you.

"…maybe" you answered as she walked to you with that stupid smirk on her lips. Sevika stood in front of you and wrapped her arms around your waist. "You could just ask me to flex my muscles in front of you, you know, I would gave you a private show" Sevika murmured as she started to place kisses on the side of your neck. You moved your neck to the left side to give sevika more space on your neck.

Sevika hummed oto your neck and she moved her lips from your neck to your jawline and then she stopped to look into your eyes. "you don't know what you do to me" she murmured and before you could answer her, she connected your lips in a passionate, warm, wet kiss, dominating your lips, sliding her tongue into your mouth sloppily while her hands moved down to grab your butt and squeezed them.

you whined in her mouth and placed your hands on the back of her muscular arms while you were making out. "sev" you moaned between your kisses and sevika squeezed again your butt with her hands "yeah?" she hummed into your lips, not wanting to stop kissing you.

"I want you" you said as you stopped the kisses for a moment to catch a breath and to say that to Sevika. "yeah, I guessed that" she answered with a smirk on her face, teasing you. You rolled your eyes at her words and groaned "vika, i'm fucking serious" you replied to her with a slight grimace on your lips and she kissed you on the corner of your mouth.

"i know, baby, relax" Sevika murmured and one of her hands slipped under your t-shirt. Her hand brushed your skin and a shiver ran down your spine. "I'll take care of you, yeah?" She murmured to your ear and she placed her hands on your pants. Then she picked you up, you immediately wrapped your legs around her waist to make sure you won't fall. Sevika placed her hands underneath your things and she pinned you against the nearest wall.

"Fuck, sev" You whined and you captured your lips into another sloppy, wet kiss while your hands started to touch sevika's body. You slipped your hand underneath her tank top, your hands started to move over her skin and toned abs and you could hear her soft whine from your touch.

Sevika could feel how her cock twitched at your movements and she knew she needed you now. In a second. at the moment. "baby, please" Sevika whined into your mouth and you moaned at her words. "You want me, sev?" you asked her as your hand slid down to her bulge in her shorts. "fuck, yeah" She murmured as a response to your words.

Sevika carefully let go of one of your legs, still holding you with hers, to take off her shorts. You helped her a little and you took off her black boxers. Excite rushed down to your core as your gaze stopped at her long, thick, hard cock, from whose head pre-ejaculate flowed.

Quickly, you slipped off your shorts and underwear along with them and sevika helped you take them off completely, throwing them on the floor next to you. Sevika's hand wandered to her dick and she wrapped her hand around him.

"c'mon, baby, I want to feel you inside me" You said to Sevika and she nodded, she needed that too and both of you knew it. Your breath stopped for a moment when Sevika directed her dick to your hole and after a while she slid inside you, the sound of your and Sevika's moans echoing throughout the basement.

"fuck…fuck, sev, mhm" You whined as you started to adjust to her length. Sevika's hand tightened underneath your thighs as she needed her whole strength to stop herself from pounding into you right there, right now but she knew that you needed a moment or two to adjust to her long, hard cock.

"that's it, baby" Sevika mumbled to you. Sevika groaned and leaned forward to you and placed a kiss on your neck "you're so fucking perfect" Sevika said to you and with that she started to move her hips. You moaned at the friendly feeling and your arms tightened on her muscular back.

The angle was perfect, you could feel all of her dick inside you. the sound of skin slapping against each other and the wet sound of your arousal echoed throughout the basement. It was almost embarrassing how pornographic the sounds were.

Every moan from Sevika's mouth, the movement causing her cock to hit your G-spot perfectly made you closer and closer to cumming here and now. "damn, vika" you whimpered and you leaned your head against the wall, moaning at the feeling.

"you're taking me…" Sevika groaned as she moved her hips back at forth, pounding into you "so fucking good" she ended her sentence and she started to move more quickly and that made you moan from pleasure.

"this clit is perfect for my cock, baby, god, i love you, i love your pussy" Sevika murmured as the pleasure and making you come on her cock was the only thing in her mind right now. "mhmp, vika, oh fuck" you moaned as you could feel your body was close to come on her cock.

Sevika could feel that you were close to coming, she felt how your pussy tightened around her cock and she groaned at the feeling. "cum on me, darling, cum on my dick" Sevika babbled while she was digging into you.

A few of her movements were enough to make you come, your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure, your breathing was ragged and heavy and your whole body was filled with pleasure. Moments later after you Sevika came and her cum was inside you and a shiver of pleasure ran through you. Your and your wife's heavy breathing was the only sound between you for a moment.

"i love you, vika" you murmured to your wife in a weary, gently voice. Sevika smiled gently and leaned to place a soft kiss on your lips. She took this moment to pull her cock out of you and you both moaned into each other's lips. Your cum and her dripped between your thighs and you sighed.

"Let's go to the bathroom and clean you up, okay?" Sevika said to you and you nodded. "yeah, the boxes can wait one more moment longer," you said to Sevika and she smiled warmly at your words. "yeah, you're right," she said and scooped you into her arms. You giggled at it and wrapped your arms around her neck.

"I'm sure these boxes won't miss us" Sevika said in a playfully, joking tone and you snorted with laughter and kissed her on her check. "i'm sure that too, sev" You replied to her and in Sevika's arms she carried you to the bathroom and took care of you there.

taglist: @abbyslvrrr @noacinno @nytloq @l0vel3tterl0ver @pizzabbs @dvrkhcld @sannyangel89 @moondient @maat2hot

[weirdkpopgirl]

Type of Boyfriends | Dream Headcanon #15

Headcanon: Type of Boyfriends

Genre: Fluff, a little angsty in some parts

Warnings: light mentions of anxiety and feeling insecure

Word Count: ~2.7k

Author's Note: I was actually planning on writing something for Haechan today. But I had the content for this headcanon pre-planned for quite some time now, so I just thought it would be good to actually write it. Also, I haven't been making a lot of group posts lately—so this is me making up for it lol. I know this idea isn't super original, but I wanted to make my version of it. I'm sorry if the scenarios are written badly, but I still thank you for reading ^ ^

~ ~ ~

mark

Mark is the type of boyfriend who feels like your best friend but with the added warmth of kisses and hugs. He loves taking you on spontaneous midnight drives, where carpool karaoke becomes your shared stage, belting out your favorite tunes together. Music is a big part of your relationship, with shared Spotify playlists that reflect your combined tastes and moments. Whenever you’re feeling down, he grabs his guitar and serenades you with Bruno Mars or Day6 songs, lifting your spirits with his husky yet gentle voice. He’s also the type of boyfriend who writes songs about you, with lyrics so touching they bring you to tears.

He’s the type of boyfriend who attempts to cook for you but ultimately results in a comedy of errors. But they always end in laughter as you step in to save the kitchen from further disaster. His cooking skills would likely improve over time, with your guidance. You’d patiently be teaching him the proper way to cut vegetables or how much seasoning should be put in a dish. But he’s the type of boyfriend to lose focus because he keeps getting distracted by how pretty you look. And then you’d blush profusely when you caught his gaze and scold him for not listening.

He’s the type of boyfriend to give you bone-crushing hugs whenever he finds something you did cute. He especially does this when you get annoyed at him for something, finding the furrow of your brows and pouty lips to be so adorable. He’s the type to go in for long kisses after being away from you for a long time. His career often keeps him away, leaving him longing for the moments he can be with you. He’s the type of boyfriend to give kisses that are so warm and tender, filled with a depth of emotion that speaks volumes about how much he cherishes you. Each kiss feels like a promise, a reassurance that no matter how far apart you are, his heart is always with you.

He’s the type of boyfriend who would geek out with you over shared interests, like Spiderman. Whether it's discussing the latest movie or comic book, these moments of shared enthusiasm bring you even closer. He’s the type of boyfriend who would watch k-dramas with you and enjoy ranting with you about the characters. These shared experiences, filled with laughter, debates, and discussions deepen your bond and create fond memories to look back on.

All in all, Mark is the type of boyfriend who is a unique blend of friendship, romance, and genuine affection that makes him the perfect partner, someone who brings joy, music, and a sense of adventure into your life.

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renjun

Renjun is the type of boyfriend to be motherly at times with how attentive and caring he is. He’s always looking after you in subtle ways, like telling you the weather beforehand so you know to wear a jacket before your date. When you share your insecurities with him, he responds by creating beautiful paintings or drawings of you, turning your worries into art. He's also the type to blush when you compliment him but cleverly turns the praise back on you, making you feel just as flustered.

He’s the type of boyfriend who loves planning and sharing things with you, like maintaining a shared Pinterest board of matching couple outfits you both should try. He’s the type to enjoy doing your skincare routines together during sleepovers, transforming these moments into intimate bonding experiences. He has a great sense of style and is the type of boyfriend who helps put together your outfits, and even learns how to style your hair to make sure you feel confident and beautiful. He’s also the type of boyfriend to patiently untangle your earphones when you get frustrated trying to do it yourself.

He’s the type of boyfriend to be deeply empathetic and share his concerns with you, valuing open communication in your relationship. He’s not afraid to show his emotions, and he tears up when he hears about your hard times, feeling your pain as his own. His thoughtful nature ensures you always feel understood and supported. When he’s the one dealing with hardships, he appreciates you just being there to hug him and talk him through his thoughts. No matter what’s troubling him, your presence alone makes him feel a little better.

He’s the type of boyfriend who may not be as physically affectionate as the other members. Though he doesn't kiss you often, it’s always behind closed doors when he does. Similar to Mark, he’s the type of boyfriend whose kisses are long, deep, and sincere, filled with unspoken affection and love. But he’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you with pecks to the lips when he finds you cute.

Ultimately, Renjun is the type of boyfriend who truly cares for you in every way, creating a relationship built on mutual respect, understanding, and deep emotional connection. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know how much he loves you, you can just feel it whenever you look at him.

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Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is the perfect balance between a strong, masculine presence and a soft, affectionate soul in your relationship. He’s the type to exude a protective aura that envelops you where you go. When you're out together, his hand naturally finds its place on your back or waist, ensuring your safety and comfort. He's attentive to small details like positioning you on his left side, away from the street, and readily offering his jacket when the weather turns chilly. These gestures not only showcase his protective instincts but also his possessive side, reminding you and others that you’re his.

He’s the type of boyfriend to keep you on your toes with how affectionate he can be. You never truly know what to expect from him. Sometimes, he surprises you with kisses so deeply passionate that they leave you breathless. Yet, in quieter moments, he transforms into a cuddly sweetheart, speaking in an endearing aegyo voice that melts your heart. His spontaneity and ability to switch between these sides of himself add excitement and tenderness to your relationship.

He’s the type of boyfriend who enjoys taking you on hiking dates, emphasizing how it’s good for your health. However, if you get tired by the end of it, he's quick to offer you a piggyback ride on the journey back, effortlessly blending his strength with his nurturing nature. He’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you by cleaning the apartment and preparing a warm meal for you after a long day of school or work. His thoughtfulness shines through in these acts of service, making you feel cherished and loved in practical ways.

He’s the type of boyfriend to be a compassionate listener who values your thoughts and feelings deeply. When you share your concerns or discuss something that's bothering you, he listens intently, his touch gentle as he traces comforting patterns on your hand. His ability to offer silent support and understanding strengthens your bond, creating a safe space where you can be vulnerable and open with each other. 

In essence, Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is a partner that fills your life with love and security. Being with him will make you feel like you’re stuck in the honeymoon phase forever.

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haechan 

Haechan is the type of boyfriend who thrives on affection, often expressing his neediness in the sweetest ways. He’s the type to never let you leave without a goodbye kiss, ensuring every parting moment is filled with warmth and connection. Whether in public or private, he shamelessly snuggles into you, finding comfort and security in your presence. He is the type to be playfully insistent on using pet names like "baby," "sunflower," or "handsome." He brightens up when you call him by his nickname "Hyuck," revealing his softer, more vulnerable side that's reserved just for you. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to enjoy teasing and banter, but knows when to set aside the jokes and be serious, especially when it matters the most to you. He’s the type to notice if something is upsetting you, even in a group of people. And he’d go out of his way to check on you to make sure everything was okay. He’s also the type of boyfriend to playfully beg you to cook his favorite dishes like kimchi jjigae, which you almost always give in to. 

He’s the type of boyfriend who includes you in his world, whether it’s letting you sit in his lap while he games on his PC or charming you with aegyo when he wants a kiss. Even during your toughest moments, his infectious humor never fails to make you laugh or smile. But on a more serious side, he’s the type of boyfriend who gets overwhelmed by how strong his feelings are for you. Just thinking about how much he loves you is enough to make him tear up. 

At the end of the day, Haechan is the type of boyfriend who is not afraid to be playful, and affectionate, and show how deep his feelings are for you. His ability to balance lighthearted moments with genuine sincerity makes every day with him an adventure filled with laughter, love, and heartfelt connections.

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jaemin 

Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is a walking green flag, embodying all the qualities of a loving and considerate partner. He never holds back his affection, constantly showering you with hugs and kisses, and always maintaining some form of physical connection, whether it’s hand-holding or resting a hand on your knee. He’s the type of boyfriend to send daily texts to check up on you if he’s at work, showing his continuous care and concern for your well-being. He’s also the type to scold you for skipping meals or getting sick, even when he does the same sometimes.

He’s the type of boyfriend to shamelessly flirt with you, making you blush with his playful comments and cheeky smirks when he catches you staring at him from across the room. He’s the type to talk about your future together during cuddle sessions, sharing your dreams of getting married and having kids. Beyond physical touches and sweet words, he’s the type of boyfriend who loves to cook for you whenever he can, and he gets equally happy when you cook for him, appreciating every gesture of care you show.

He’s the type of boyfriend who is generally easygoing, though he has his moments of jealousy. He gets laughably envious when you give more attention to his cats than him or when you rave about how Jeno looked on stage. These moments of jealousy are never overbearing but rather endearing, showing how much he values your attention and affection. And he loves that you always reassure him that your heart belongs to him. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to take countless photos of you on your dates. Even if you don’t love having your photo taken, he just can’t resist capturing your beauty. Besides, he insists it's for the memories to look back on when you two are old and fray. He’s the type to have his phone gallery filled with pictures of you, and he proudly shows them to his members from time to time. While you could point out all your flaws in one picture, Jaemin never even looked at them. No matter how insecure you might be, he’s the type of boyfriend to make you feel pretty.

Simply put, Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is practically perfect with his unwavering support and daily reminders of his love. Being in a relationship with him is nurturing, fun, and filled with dreams for the future.

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chenle 

Chenle is the type of boyfriend who can be really annoying at times, but you can’t help but love him for it. He loves to joke around and make you laugh, especially when you're feeling down. When he does something that annoys you, he’s quick to make it up with a lot of hugs, using affection to win you over. Most of the time, you end up giving into his silliness and laughing with him. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to buy gifts for you quite often, something you kind of had to get used to. He’s the type to surprise you with things he’s seen you admiring online or at a store. Even if you scold him for not saving his money or spending it more wisely, Chenle insists that as your boyfriend, it’s part of his job to spoil you. 

He’s also the type of boyfriend to share his passions with you, whether it’s taking you to see a Warrior’s game or having you watch and cheer him on as he plays basketball. His excitement for these activities becomes even more meaningful when you join in, creating shared experiences that deepen your bond. He’s also the type of boyfriend who enjoys traveling and exploring new places with you. He loves taking you out, whether it’s to explore the rural areas of Korea to eat gukbap or book a surprise trip to Shanghai. His spontaneous nature keeps your relationship exciting and full of adventure, with each trip creating cherished memories. 

He’s the type of boyfriend who regularly gushes to you about how cute the members are, but gets all shy when you also call him cute. He’s also the type to feel a little betrayed when his dog, Daegal, likes you more than him. However, he can never be sulky for long because he can’t really blame her. And he admires how you always make sure his daughter runs back into his arms.

Altogether, Chenle is the type of boyfriend to keep your life vibrant and full of love with his playfulness, generosity, and genuine care. Although he drives you crazy at times, he teaches you how to have fun and live in the present.

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jisung

Jisung is the type of boyfriend who is super shy in the beginning but gradually becomes more comfortable and open with time. He’s the type to hide behind your back or bury his face in your shirt when he gets embarrassed about something. He’s the type of boyfriend who also loves being taller than you, not in a teasing way, but because it makes him feel more protective. He secretly loves it when you compare the size of your hands, although he blushes every time you do it. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to ramble about his curiosity and interests to you. He enjoys talking about the wonders of space and aliens, letting you into his fascinating world of thoughts. He also loves talking about things like MBTI with you and finds joy in learning about yourselves together. Sometimes, he even rants about his debates with Chenle, showcasing his playful and thoughtful side. 

He’s also the type of boyfriend to have a lot of serious conversations with you, usually reserved for late nights. He’s the type to lay his head in your lap as he shares what is on his mind. The gentle stroking of your fingers through his hair helps him feel calm and at ease. Sometimes he doesn't even need to say anything, for your open arms provide all the comfort he needs. He’s the type of boyfriend who loves when you hug him, often calming down when anxious thoughts run through his head. Cuddles are even better, especially when you get to fall asleep in each other’s arms, feeling completely safe and loved.

He’s the type of boyfriend who can be quite sentimental, especially when he’s on tour. He misses you deeply and has been known to cry when he thinks about how much he misses you. These moments highlight his deep emotional connection and attachment to you. He’s also the type to feel incredibly touched when you do simple things like cooking for him or surprising him with bunggeobang on a cold day, appreciating the warmth and love you bring into his life.

Over time, Jisung is the type of boyfriend you can build a deep, emotionally mature relationship. Even if he might be the youngest in his group, his maturity shines when he’s with you. He evolves into a loving and thoughtful boyfriend who cherishes every moment with you.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[celestiamour]

since you asked for hyun-ju ideas, here am i 🙂

Imagine being her girlfriend and finally managing to hype her up to wear something more feminine for a date (like a dress or a skirt), only for that confidence to be shattered by some strangers on the street ;((

so, after a bit of comfort, you just need to prove how they were wrong, and show your sweet girlfriend how nice you think she looks on that outfit *wink wink*

ft. cho hyun ju x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ hyping her up to go out wearing a skirt for the first time┊0.7k words

contains: fluff with suggestive content at the end!! gender dysphoria & insecurity but mainly euphoria, established relationship, reader is shorter

➤ author's note: i went off prompt and didn’t do smut for this one because i really just wanted to focus on her gender euphoria moment, so sorry (also this is my first time writing for a trans character centered around gender identity! my knowledge mainly comes from having an ex girlfriend who was trans and told me about her experience, but if i got anything wrong or need improvement for something, please tell me so that i can improve and do hyun-ju justice!)

she stared at herself in the mirror, almost in disbelief at first at the reflection looking back at her. it’s insane how a little bit of makeup and stylized outfits could completely transform her appearance, the magic being something she’s heard about plenty of times but has only been able to witness at this moment. her fingers nimbly adjusted her hair, brushing it back before pushing the front stands forward to frame her face, and then flying to her pleated skirt to straighten it out. her heartbeat was all over the place, both from the happiness of finally feeling like herself and from the anxiety of planning to go out in public like this.

hyun-ju paused at the thought of that, looking back at herself and suddenly focusing on all of her insecurities again— the more masculine features that other people would point out and whisper about from her face to her frame. she looked at her bare legs and found the contrast with the dainty piece of cloth too stark to ignore, finding herself crossing her legs and wondering if she should just wear pants like she usually did.

self-consciousness started to consume her entire being and thoughts about it not being enough raced across her mind, taking in a deep breath and considering just taking it all off to stay in for the night. the last thing she wanted was to get harassed by some assholes on the street just for trying to be herself, especially when she knew you would yell back at them and a fight was very much possible as it happened in the past before ending with you in the hospital for a broken wrist (the other guy was in a much worse state, but she still didn’t like the idea of you getting injured or possibly even arrested for her behalf).

“babe, are you finished changing?” you called out and broke her out of her thinking, but you entered before she could say anything. she cringed slightly and closed her, feeling embarrassed until she heard you gasp in pure delight, “oh, you look so beautiful!”

the heat radiating off her cheeks from being sheepish quickly changed to that of being flustered, “r-really?”

“of course!” you took her hands into yours, spinning her around like she was a princess wearing the most luxurious ball gown ever crafted even though it was bought at a local mall, “i knew this outfit would look good on you, it really is your color!”

“right, i was just worried it looked weird…” she felt a little stupid expressing her concerns, but she knew you were understanding, “i just feel like… i don’t know, i feel like i’m too tall to wear something like this…”

“being too tall isn’t a problem! personally, i would kill to be your height and to have your legs, and i know plenty of other people would too. it’s a trait that lots of top models have, so you don’t have to worry about anything!”

your words made her crack a smile, feeling the initial confidence flood her and your arm wrap around her waist as her gaze returned to the mirror once again with both of you admiring her beauty. seeing herself in your light was always enlightening like she was a completely different person in the best way possible, and she was so grateful to have you as her girlfriend to pull her out of her negative thoughts. 

“well, we better get going. if we stand here always just staring at how pretty you are, i might not be able to control myself and we’ll be home all night,” you teased, standing on your tip-toes and kissing her carefully on the lips so as to not mess up the tinted gloss.

“i don’t think i would mind that…” 

“don’t tempt me now…” the fluffy atmosphere became charged with a familiar tension with your touch lingering on her skin, one of your hands traced up her thigh with sinful ideas forming on how you could mark up the unblemished skin and ruin the makeup you wanted to preserve a mere few seconds ago.

after a few seconds of heavy silence, you finally pulled her to join you on the bed, all teasing smiles and lust, “well, we can just order an uber instead of walking, we can spare ten minutes. that’s all the time we need, isn’t it?”

[genderkoolaid]

HIV research and monitoring has historically excluded transgender men, creating blind spots in understanding this group’s sexual well-being and happiness. Two recent studies—one out of New York and the other from Germany—suggest that transgender men who have sex with other men have a higher prevalence of HIV than the general population. The German analysis further finds that transgender men who have sex with other men face a host of inequities compared to cisgender gay and bisexual men, including reduced access to sexual healthcare and less satisfying sex lives. [...] Almost three quarters of trans MSM reported their income was insufficient for them to live comfortably, compared to about half of cis MSM. The researchers note that the income disparity could be due to the trans MSM participants being younger on average, but they also suggest discrimination could play a role. In terms of mental health, survey scores indicated both groups experienced various degrees of depression and anxiety from mild to severe. However, trans MSM were almost four times as likely to suffer from severe anxiety and depression compared to cis MSM (15% vs 5%). Furthermore, trans MSM indicated far more suicidal ideation than their cisgender counterparts (41% versus 16%). The survey results also pointed to gaps in sexual satisfaction, with more trans MSM being unhappy with their sex life than cis MSM (34% versus 22%). Trans men more often disagreed that sex was as safe as they wanted (18% versus 11%) and indicated less ability to say no to unwanted sex (23% to 12%). Trans MSM reported fewer sexual partners than cis MSM, and the study authors propose that difficulties in finding partners due to stigma may contribute to less happiness in their sex lives. On the whole, trans MSM also had poorer access to healthcare compared to cis MSM. Fewer had ever received either an HIV test (41% versus 24%) or an STI test (55% versus 45%). Drawing on other research, the authors suggest that one reason for this may be discrimination in healthcare settings, which may cause trans men to avoid seeking sexual health services. The authors go on to say that stereotypes, such as assuming trans men only have sex with cisgender women, may also interfere with providing adequate care. Finally, although trans MSM had higher rates of HIV than the general population, this was lower than amongst cis MSM (2.5% versus 10.7%). A different study conducted in New York City by Dr Asa Radix and colleagues of the Callen-Lorde Community Health Center also found that HIV prevalence is higher in transgender men. In this retrospective analysis, the authors identified a racially diverse group of 577 transgender men who sought care at the facility between 2009 and 2010. Among this group of men (mean age 32 years), less than half (n=250) had ever had an HIV test. Out of the 250 individuals who had, 2.8% (n=7) tested positive for HIV, a significantly higher rate of HIV than the current US national prevalence of 0.41%. Of the 18 trans men who had sex exclusively with cis men and tested for HIV, two (11.1%) were positive.