*·˚ eroticism *·˚

art. orgasms. money. peace

[strnqer]

𝐯’𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

v. twenty. she/her. hopeless romantic

library + wattpad + taglist + request ( closed )

this is mostly a nsfw blog

— im v, i love films and music as well as nature and my friends xoxo. i like supporting other authors so i tend to repost most of what i come across on my feed tehe. i also love my mutuals

please do not copy, repost or translate my work on any site. (tumblr reposts r much appreciated tho x)

[sunlightnmoonshine]

I know we talk about how much gwangshik loves aesun ( and oh to be loved like that is beautiful) but I hope we don't forget how much aesun loves gwangshik. The way she looks at him affectionately, the way she is concerned about his dreams and ambitions, the way she likes seeing him smile, the way she smiles at him, the way she will handle abuse from others just to not worry him, the way she looks out for him, the way she is concerned for him, the way she wouldn't choose anyone else.

[chansbabygirl]

Ae-sun: I want Geum-myeong to have everything, Gwan-sik. For her to have it all and do anything. I want...I want her to prosper in life. I don't want her to set the table forever. I want her to flip the table over instead.

Gwan-sik: You flip it too. If you flip it, I will clean the whole thing up...You can flip it or break it.

[pinkandblueblurbs]

frank langdon who loves to share his food <3 frank who, on your first date, notices you eyeing his plate curiously while you ask him how it tastes and responds “it’s good! here, wanna try some?” frank who’ll cut off a piece of his steak and put it on your plate before he even has any himself. frank who’ll hold his whole burger to your lips and urge “big bite, baby.” frank who orders the other ice-cream flavor you were torn between so you can have them both.

[aarreejj]

[sunlightnmoonshine]

There's me before watching when life gives you tangerines and there's me after. I will never be the same.

[drramaesthetic]

[asiandramabitch]

[ashstfu]

forever rooting for sensitive girls!!!!!! you have big hearts and a poet’s soul i love you

[catchymemes]

[mitochondria3tc]

I want to lie on the ground and rest with the earth while the world exhausts itself chasing money.

[wynnevee]

messy eater

frank langdon x reader

synopsis: frank is a messy eater and you’re feeling a little shy about it.

warnings: smut (MDNI), oral (f!receiving), trinity santos thinks she’s funny and she’s 100% right

notes: this is my first time writing smut so i hope it is good and that y’all enjoy!!

for a man that looked like he wandered out of a frat house and into an emergency department, frank langdon was a surprisingly giving lover.

the first time you had sex, he was impeccably gentle with you. he prepped you for what felt like hours, not worrying about himself until you were practically sobbing for his cock. and of course, this preparation included eating you out until you were yanking on fistfuls of his pretty hair for leverage.

it was an amazing first time—mind blowing, even—and as you started becoming more comfortable with intimacy, you began exploring more. different positions, varying speeds, new words whispered in your ear… the one thing that remained constant though?

that man always, always, went down on you.

“it’s not like i’m a virgin, santos, i’ve just never… like, nobodies ever…” you struggled to cough out the words, a thin sheen of sweat covering your forehead just from the thought of it.

“ate your pussy?”

now you were hardly an innocent flower, but that had you clutching your pearls. “trinity santos! we’re at work!”

she rolled her eyes, ever unimpressed. “we are on break and in your office, i think we’re in the clear.”

you huff, avoiding her eyes. “i’ve received my fair share of head,” you concede. “i’ve just never had a guy like it so much.”

she quirks a brow. “he’s that into it?”

you lower your voice on instinct, looking at her with an intense honestly. “he doesn’t even take a breather! i think he’s trying to suffocate himself in my vagina!”

santos shrugs, expression dead serious. “i mean, death by pussy sounds like a solid plan to me.”

the absurdity of that statement, the sheer unbelievable notion, is what made you voice it to frank later that day.

“you know what santos said earlier?” frank had just released your lips for the first time in half an hour, the movie on the TV long since forgotten.

frank hummed, his lips already trailing down your neck, over the barely healed hickeys he’d left there the night before (thank god the morgue was cold and you could wear a turtleneck without any questions).

“she said that ‘death by pussy’ was a solid plan,” you laughed, though it came out more nervous than intended—whether that was your hesitance around the topic or his teeth on your throat, you weren’t sure.

frank laughed briefly, absentmindedly, evidently much more interested in marking every inch of skin you’d let him. “i mean,” he murmurs, the vibrations on your pulse point making you shiver. “she’s not wrong.”

your brows furrowed, breathing still heavy. “really?”

he nods with another hum, though this one sounds more like a moan as he crawls down your body, teeth almost tugging on the band of your sleep shorts. “i wish i could drown in this pussy every goddamn day, but you’re always crying and pulling me away.”

you scowl, swatting at his head—he’s laughing before you even make impact—as he finally starts to pull off your clothes.

“aren’t sick of it yet?” you ask. “i mean, i am enjoying myself, but aren’t you—”

you’re cut off by something you certainly didn’t expect: the sound of a forceful tear and a franks tongue diving into your very suddenly bare pussy.

“frank!” you squeak, somewhere between arousal and horror. your hand flailed to find the back cushions on the couch, desperate for an anchor as frank pushed your legs up and onto his shoulders.

“i’ll buy you more,” he practically growls, and it seems that he is making good on his promise to drown himself down there.

“you— god, you freak!” you try to laugh, cut off halfway by one of those wretched moans only frank pulls from you.

the sounds he makes though are down right criminal in comparison. he moans as if this is providing him some sort of stimulation, moves his head like he’s looking to make a mess of himself, lapping at you while juice drips down his chin like he’s found the last piece of fruit in a barren land.

“frank, that’s— that’s enough!” you gasp after your first orgasm, but your thighs are still flush against his head, holding him in place.

he groans into you, thick fingers clinging to you. “you okay?”

you writh under him, unsure if you’re looking to push yourself closer or pull away. “you’re hard, frankie, let me take care of you too!”

he shakes his head, popping off of you just enough to meet your eyes with a strikingly drunken smile. his chin is glistening, lips swollen and red. “i already came.”

“hmm?” the orgasm either made your head fuzzy or you heard him right. “you came…? from that?”

he nods, licking his lips. “so… can i keep going?”

[coventina2001]

Sick day

Evan Buckley

Evan Buckley does not get sick. That’s his official stance..

Unfortunately, the man is currently standing in your shared kitchen, swaying slightly while trying to make coffee at 6:12 a.m., looks like he’s about to faint into the coffee maker.

“You good?” you mumble from the doorway, still half asleep.

“I’m fine,” he rasps.

His voice sounds like gravel. You cross your arms. “You sound like you swallowed sandpaper.”

“It’s just a little..”

He sneezes violently. Nearly drops the mug. Stares at it like it betrayed him.

You blink slowly.

“You’re not going to work.”

“Yes I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

He turns to argue… and immediately wobbles.

You sigh as you step forward and press your palm to his forehead.

Hot.

Not warm. Hot.

So you take his temperature and it was 101.2

“Buck.”

He leans into your touch without thinking. Eyes fluttering shut for half a second before he catches himself and straightens.

“I can push through.”

“You can barely stand.”

He gives you that stubborn look.

You give him the test me I dare you stare.

He exhales.

“…I hate being useless.”

Your expression softens immediately.

“You’re not useless,” you say gently, cupping his cheek. “You’re sick.”

There’s a difference. You help him get settled on the couch and tuck him in with a blanket and softly kiss his forehead.

You’ve called Bobby. (He absolutely did not want you to, but Bobby immediately told him to stay home.)

You bring him tea and cold medicine.

He watches you move around the apartment like you hung the moon.

This is the part he doesn’t talk about much.

How much he loves waking up next to you every morning.

How much he loves that there are two toothbrushes in the bathroom.

How your hoodie is draped over the back of the dining chair.

How your life is woven into his.

“Come here,” he murmurs.

You sit beside him.

He doesn’t hesitate. Just pulls you into him, burying his face against your shoulder. His arms wrap tight around your waist, like he needs to anchor himself.

“You’re clingy,” you tease softly.

He hums. “You like it.”

You do.

His nose brushes your neck, warm and sleepy. He breathes you in like you’re medicine.

“You smell like home,” he mutters, half out of it.

Your heart absolutely melts.

You brush your fingers through his hair. “You are home, Buck.”

He goes very still at that.

Slowly, he tilts his head back to look at you. Fever-flushed cheeks. Soft blue eyes. Vulnerable in a way he rarely lets himself be.

“…Yeah?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

Something settles in him.

He tucks himself closer, hand sliding under your shirt just to feel skin-to-skin warmth. His thumb traces lazy circles against your back.

Five minutes later, he’s asleep.

Dead weight. Fully attached.

You try to shift.

His arms tighten instantly.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles without opening his eyes.

“I’m just grabbing my phone.”

“No.”

You laugh softly. “Bossy.”

“Stay.”

So you do.

You lean back against the couch, Buck sprawled half on top of you, breathing slow and steady. The apartment is quiet. Morning light filtering through the curtains. The world outside moving as usual.

But here?

It’s warm.

Safe.

[sunsetbuddie]

sorry going through something. remember when tommy confidently claimed eddie the competition was out of the way and served buck a ten course breakfast to celebrate eddie being gone and buck was soooo annoyed and defensive. like, uh eddie’s a renter and also straight. and tommy was like, lol. lmao even. and buck was like, do i have feelings for eddie? yes probably. but do i have feelings for you? No actually. so there! oh no. and then buck told maddie that tommy thinks he's in love with eddie (tommy did not say this. actually) and maddie point blank asked him if he was in love with eddie. and buck got so super defensive. Again. it was almost comical. and then bobby fucking died and everything fell apart so buck never got to Process any of That. and he and eddie fought. intensely. in the kitchen. because essentially they both wanted to share their grief with Each Other. as family. as spouses. but didn't know How. because they're not. spouses. and then eddie flew his son across the country for buck. and they had a family dinner. like spouses. with their son. and their aunt pepa. and then they couldn't be partners at work anymore. because bobby is dead. and chimney is captain now. and buck spiralled about it. and got jealous of hen. his long-time friend btw. because she got to be eddie's partner. who she is also long-time friends with. they even went to IMAX together. and things are just a bit weird with eddie now. there's a weird tension. they keep bickering. almost like spou— Whatever. it's weird. and also eddie hasn't dated or hooked up with anyone recently. has anyone noticed that? (neither have you buck btw. Not The Point. that was by Choice!) eddie should date someone. buck should find someone for eddie to hook up with! but he ends up dating the woman he wanted eddie to hook up with. and also her husband. accidentally. and they want him to be their third. but he turns them down. because he just wants to be a Half. and all the while he still has not processed that conversation with tommy. who saw eddie as the competition. who saw eddie as buck's last. and also he and eddie are going to be on a road trip together soon. just the two of them. in a car. in a motel. in a diner. Whatever

[freezethismoment]

eddie genuinely thinks of buck as his in his mind. like not just his best friend but his. his brain isn’t like “aw, my best friend, buck” his brain is like aw My buck <3 buck belongs to Him and eddie sees no issue with this way of thinking <3 yay

[mgcsheaven]

realistically there is no chance i will have time to read, imma still bring a book though

[strnqer]

chapter ten: you

pairing: lip gallagher x afab!reader

series history

the pain you caused me, lip gallagher, is something i never in my life thought i’d have to go through.

not from you.

and if you’re reading this—because i know you are—then know that you were the cause of this.

this is your fault, lip.

the sleepless nights. the constant ache in my chest. the way i started doubting myself, questioning whether i was ever enough.

you did that.

i hope you have a better fucking life than i ever did with you.

i hope one day you realize what you lost.

and i hope it sits with you the way this pain has sat with me.

“you’re such an asshole, lip!”

you’re screaming before you can stop yourself, voice cracking at the edges. your eyes burn with unshed tears, hands shaking so badly you have to clutch your sweater to keep from falling apart.

“you’re so—so toxic… and fake! and an asshole. i hate you!”

you’re sobbing now, the words spilling out messy and sharp. you slept with him yesterday. you knew better, but you did it anyway. and for a second—just one stupid, fragile second—you let yourself believe things would go back to normal. that you had your lip back.

but you were wrong.

because this morning he did what he’s been doing for months. disappeared. ran off with karen. ignored your texts. ignored your calls. and when you walked right up to him and ian outside the gallagher house, he blocked you out like you were nothing.

like you were no one.

“you know what? i’m not even half as mad at you as i am at myself,” you spit, your voice shaking but steady enough to land. “i’m mad i didn’t realize sooner how much of an egotistical dick you are. you’re incapable of maintaining a relationship, lip. you fuck everything up.”

your chest heaves, but you keep going.

“and i tried. i really fucking tried to understand you. to make whatever the hell this was work. but you wouldn’t let me. you push me away every single time. i hate you, lip gallagher. i never want to see your fucking face again—and i’m sorry for myself for not realizing this sooner.”

the words come fast, but for once they make sense. this isn’t healthy. it never was. it’s not even a relationship.

it’s just you breaking yourself over and over for someone who won’t bend.

you swallow hard, forcing air into your lungs.

“if you ever loved me—at any point in your miserable life—you’ll let me go.”

and with that, you turn your back on him. on both of them. you walk toward your house without looking back.

you tell yourself you’re fine.

you will be fine.

but the thing that shatters you completely is the sound behind you.

he laughs.

he actually laughs.

“you’ll be back!” he calls out, cigarette still hanging from his fingers as he leans casually against the porch railing.

ian looks between you and him, stunned. “aren’t you gonna go after her? that’s fucked up, man.”

lip just shrugs, eyes still fixed on the empty space where you were standing.

“she always comes back.”

and that is how she was gone. tina scott left, left her best friend, her mom, the gallagher's—her second family. she was gone and never looked back. she knew what was right for her now. and she was going to take care of herself before ever turning back to him again.

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taglist: @remithenonbinaryrat @mbtheleaves @scream4mami