It Is Love

Summary: Work has kept Y/N from taking care of her physical needs for far too long. After a particularly rough day, Y/N finds a release in her smirking, shirtless, delicious neighbor.

Pairing: Wonho x Reader

Genre: Smut, Oneshot

Word Count: 6,283

Warning: Neighbors!Wonho, sexual themes, mild femdom, spanking, profanity, drinking

A/N: Y/F/N = Your Friend’s Name

title banner by @jiminiethot♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 12.9 k

Part 6 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 

Warnings: explicit sexual activity, dirty talk, degradation, spanking, somewhat under-negotiated kink, discussion of suspected self-injury, non-monogamy (?) I don’t think it’s cheating, but other people might disagree

-“OH, WHAT, ARE U #TRIGGERED???, LIFE ISNT UR #SAFE SPACE LMAO”

Here sesame street is trying to fill a gap where supportive adults should be. Where there should be a teacher or a family member or a counselor to help, for whatever reason, there isn’t, so Sesame Street is stepping in.

This breed of person has always hated Sesame Street. They hated it for showing black and white children playing together. They hated it for giving children of color the head start that rich white families were paying for. They hated it for Bert and Ernie for showing two MEN who LIVED TOGETHER, for the married black nurse who lived on sesame street when it was first released, and for them explaining death. I feel like there was a pregnancy at some point in its early days and they would have REALLY hated that.

These days they don’t (usually) say “I’m not letting my kid watch anything with black kids in it” but they sure throw a tantrum in the youtube comments when Sesame Street DARES to show an autistic girl playing with non-autistic children and being treated like shes anyone else. They lose their shit when Sesame Street has to explain incarceration to 5 year olds. And the muppet in south africa with HIV? Hoo boy.

GENRE: fluff

PAIRING: Kihyun x reader

WARNING: it’s just hella cute here

SUMMARY: You hid Kihyun’s pants in hopes of making him stay at your place instead of leaving for practice like he’s supposed to.

WORD COUNT: 694

A/N: This is just a cute lil drabble I thought of when I told my friend I couldn’t find my pants and she told me to go without them. Thanks for that, best friend.

“Babe?” Kihyun called from the living room of your apartment. You were laying in bed, the covers pulled up to your chest as you played a game on his phone while yours sat on the nightstand, charging. “Yes, Kihyunnie?” you called back. “Have you seen my pants?” he asked and you bit your lip to hide a smile before answering him. “Hmm no. I haven’t.”

“I can’t find them!” he called, exasperated. You stifled a giggle, forcing the smile off your face as he entered the room in only a white tee shirt and black boxer briefs. He peered around the room in search of the elusive garment. “Where did you see them last?” you asked, feigning interest. “I can’t remember. I think last night? When you took them off,” he said sifting through the pile of clothes on the floor you had set aside to do laundry today. “Gah!!” he growled and stood up before heading into the bathroom.

“I really can’t find them!” you heard him say. “I don’t have any other pants here!” He sounded mildly panicked. You almost felt bad for him since you were the reason his pants had disappeared. “Where the hell are they?!” you heard him grumble. You chuckled softly from your spot on the bed.

“Honey, just stay home!” you said sweetly as you continued to play a game on his phone. “I really wish I could baby but we have practice today and I can’t skip it. Hyunwoo will have my head if I skip practice again. Especially this close to a come back.” You could hear your boyfriend searching the hamper in vain. “And I would rather keep my head where it is,” he added.

You smiled as you finished the level you were on and looked up as Kihyun reentered the room. “Yeah,” I like your head where it is, too, but I’d like it somewhere else even more. Kihyun cocked his head to the side at your words until it clicked in his brain and he smirked. “That can be arranged.”

He headed slowly for the bed, sliding his hand over the white bedspread before taking the covers in his hand. He gave you a sly grin before he pulled the covers down until he looks down and notices what you’re wearing.

“My pants!”

You giggled looking up at him. He stared down at you incredulously. “You had them the whole time?” he asked and you nodded, still giggling. Kihyun grabbed the pant leg closest to him and started tugging. “Give them back! I’m gonna be late!” he said and you giggled harder as you fought to keep them on.

You pulled particularly hard and caused Kihyun to topple over and he rushed to keep himself from crushing you. “Do you have some sort of death wish?” Kihyun laughed as he tried to wrestle his pants off you while you fought back to keep them on. “Just give me my pants, babe!” he said and you shook your head. “No!” you replied, giggle. Kihyun’s hand traveled up your sides and started to tickle you.

“Give them!” he said and you squirmed under his touch. “Kihyun!!” you said in between laughter. “Stop!” you tried to free yourself but he was too strong. “Not until you give me my pants!” he demanded. He took the opportunity while you were recovering from laughing to pull the pants off you, leaving you in your panties.

“AHA!” he shouted triumphantly and held his pants up. He looked down at you and you smirked up at him, red in the face from laughing. “Why stop there?” you asked glancing down at your bare legs and back up at him again. Kihyun gave you a mischievous grin before he threw his pants to the side and climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. “I’ve got some time to kill I guess,” he said.

“You aren’t going to be late?” you asked running your fingers through his hair. He leaned down, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I’ll come up with an excuse,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted me to stay.”

Fucking elsewhere 

Doing shit 

and here i am 

being lazy

and broke

Also, when we move too much during an argument, or lean forward, it’s scary, and I never knew. I was even a little insulted at first, because surely she didn’t think I would hurt her. But see, that doesn’t matter. It wasn’t a sign that she mistrusted me specifically; it’s a conditioned response. (Although if you keep doing it once you realize it scares her, she SHOULDN’T trust you.)

Not every woman has been physically harmed by a man she trusted, but every woman KNOWS a woman who has.

I used to be horrible about this, because I didn’t realize how intimidating it was. I didn’t understand why the woman I was with clammed up or tried to tell me what she thought I wanted to hear, and I only got angrier, and acted even more like an asshole. It was wrong. It was abusive. It didn’t matter if I INTENDED it that way; it was still emotionally abusive. And it was inexcusable.

I get that when passions are high, and when you’re frustrated, it’s a natural tendency to let your voice get louder, to shout and gesture and lean forward. But you can train yourself to do better. You can train yourself to keep more of an even tone, to refrain from large and fast gestures, to not lean into her personal space. I did. I’m not perfect at it yet, but goddamn it, I WILL be.

History is littered with the bodies of women who believed a man “would never.” This includes women killed by men who honestly, deeply, truly believed they “would never”… right up until she said that one thing or moved in just that way and he just got so mad, just that once, and pushed her or punched her or slashed her or shot her… just once, y’know, to shut her up, or because she was flinching and didn’t she know that HE’S NOT LIKE THAT and I’LL TEACH HER TO BE AFRAID OF ME…

We are trained, from infancy, that Men With Loud Voices are a source of pain from which we cannot escape, and attempts to escape may result in more pain. And as soon as we’re old enough to comprehend a world broader than our immediate circle, a world that extends into the past and will run into the future, we realize that there is no way, no way at all, to tell which men “would never” and which men “would never… except if.”

We live or die on that “if.” And any man who doesn’t like facing that hyper-vigilance can work on fixing OTHER MEN, not women’s fear.

The reaction shouldn’t be “not all men are like that;” it should be “no woman should have to live in fear.”