#but sometimes they will be which long hair

[luvyeni]

🥮… ( drabble ) ̨ new do ! ୨୧ 一 황현진 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ hyunjin showing you his new haircut ヾ

boyfriend!hyunjin・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. buzzcut hyune drabble? 🤤

�� ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3 !!!

standing in your kitchen; washing the dishes while you waited for hyunjin to get back from whatever he was doing — so unaware of what was to walk through your front door.

hyunjin walked through the front door; smiling at the sight in front of him, you were dancing around to his solo song in one of his shirts; he was in love. running his fingers through his newly buzzed hair like muscle memory. “baby.”

he sat his bag down; taking his shoes off before making his way into the kitchen. “baby.” he said in sing songy voice; shaking his head because you were so deaf sometimes. he finally came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “oh my god!” you jumped in shock. “you didn’t hear me?” he placed his chin on your shoulder. “no the music was too loud.” you reached over to turn the volume down.

“where did you go so suddenly?” you turned around to face your man, your jaw dropping. “you like?” he smiled. “i sent you off with long black hair.” you brought me your hands to his head. “you don’t like it?”

like it? you fucking loved it. “no i love it, it’s just new.” you said, rubbing his head, he sighed feeling your fingers on his scalp. “i don’t have anything to tug at anymore, but i definitely can get used to this.” you giggled as he kissed your neck, pulling away looking at you with lust in his eyes. “here i am wanting to show you my new hair and you’re thinking naughty.” his hands traveling down to your waist , lifting you onto the counter. “hyune what are you doing?”

“what does it look like princess?” he pushed the shirt up to your waist; kissing the inside of your thighs. “gonna eat your pretty little pussy.” you moaned out as he kissed your cunt through your panties. “hyunjin.” he chuckled, pulling them to the side. “such a pretty pussy; so tasty.” before you say anything your words were caught in your throat by him licking a fat stripe up your slip. “oh-oh fuck.”

he began to devour you like it was his last meal, licking and sucking your folds; his hands tight around your thighs. “hyune.” you moaned , your hands flying to his head like muscle memory. “fuck that feels so good.” pushing his head further in between your legs. “fuck keep going , m’ gonna cum.” your head was thrown back against the cabinet; nails digging into his head — which probably hurt like a bitch , but knowing your boyfriend he was getting a kick out of it. “h-hyune.”

he replaced his lips with one of his long fingers; curling it inside you; a lazy smirk stained his lips, that were covered in you. “you gonna cum baby?” you nodded profusely. “fu-fuck yes , please let me cum , please.” you sobbed out. “fuck look at you begging for so prettily.” he chuckled; your man was already fine , but this new haircut just made him extra fine — and you didn’t even know that was possible. “cum for me , cream my fingers.” his voice was so seductive and that was all you needed , before your legs were wrapping around his forearm and you were cumming , shaking in his hold. “that’s it , make a mess on my fingers.”

he used his thumb to rub little circles on your clit to further the orgasm. “so pretty baby.” he pulled his fingers from outside of you, bringing them to his plump lips. “you taste so fucking good princess.” he never forgot to give you a loving kiss on your forehead. “see i know you would find away to hold on to my head , although it kinda hurts.” you giggled. “you wouldn’t be hard as rock right now if you didn’t like it.” you could feel him , pressed against you. he nodded agreeing, grinding against you , you moaned out. “you’re right about that princess.”

“i want you to keep gripping my head while my cock is breeding your pretty pussy.”

©️LUVYENI

[matchingbatbites]

Eddie doesn't like sports.

Well, okay, that's not technically true. Growing up in the deep south left him with an ingrained interest in college football that he's not sure he'll ever be able to shake, but at least he can understand that game. He doesn't know a single fucking thing about hockey.

The rest of the guys had been excited when Chrissy said the band had been offered tickets to see the local NHL team. He was upset by how quickly he'd been outnumbered, but the boys had plied him with the promise of violence on ice, and that was enough to sooth the betrayal, at least a little.

Which is how he finds himself here, smushed between Chrissy and Gareth and not really as engaged as he should be, watching a bunch of men run around on the ice - sometimes literally, which is crazy. There has been a little violence though, so that's something at least.

Eddie blinks when Chrissy hands him a small dry erase board and a couple of markers that she pull from her bag. "What's this for?"

"You're famous, Eddie. The arena staff knows we're here, which means we're probably going to be on camera. I figured you could entertain yourself with some appropriate messages. Appropriate," she reiterates, and Eddie grabs at his chest like he's been shot.

"You wound me! As if I would ever deign to flash the cameras with a message that's anything less than the pinnacle of wholesome!"

Chrissy rolls her eyes but smiles - ever used to his dramatics by now - and just turns back to the game. Right, sometimes it's easy to forget that Chrissy is actually a sports person.

Eddie gets to work on his first message, not entirely sure when they're going to be the focus of the large screen above them. Chrissy glances over to see what he's writing and just sighs, and Eddie can't bite back his grin.

It's actually not too long before the announcer mentions something that isn't related to the game, and then-

"With nearly twelve million monthly listeners on Spotify, please welcome local metal band, Corroded Coffin!"

Eddie looks up to see their faces on the screen and grins as he turns his board around, showing off the LOOKIN 4 HUSBAND he's written in block letters. There's a mix of cheers and laughter from the crowd, and Eddie can't help but give a joking wink to the camera before he's laughing as well.

Chrissy smacks him on the arm and says "I can't believe you," but she's smiling as well. Eddie just shrugs and cleans the message from the whiteboard, freeing up space for him to doodle in between catching glances at the game.

It's a little bit later when a big fight breaks out, and a few players from each team are sent to the- box? The box. Eddie watches the big screen as the camera follows one of the players, tracking the man as he steps inside the little booth and rips his helmet off in frustration and- holy shit.

The guy is fucking stunning; his jaw, his nose, his sweat-damp hair and the beauty marks scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie wants to get closer, wants to know the color of his eyes and smooth the crease between his brows, wants to shove his fingers into that pretty, pink mouth-

And then the camera changes, going back to the players on the ice, and Eddie blinks like he's been released from a spell. He turns to Chrissy, one hand grabbing at her arm as he says "Who the fuck was that guy?"

Chrissy glances at him but keeps most of her attention on the game. "Harrington? He's literally the captain of our team, Eddie. I know you're not super into this, but that's kind of a hard thing to miss."

The man huffs a little as he releases Chrissy's arm. "I know literally jack-shit about this game, Chrissy, nothing is hard to miss."

Eddie takes the chance to re-write his white board before turning it to face outward, hoping that some cameraman will take pity on him and put him back on screen. He's not sure how long Harrington has in what is essentially timeout, but Eddie keeps his eyes on him all the same, glad that they're actually not too far away from the box.

It's a couple of minutes later when the announcer says "Looks like our friends Corroded Coffin have another message, this time for team captain Steve Harrington," and Eddie doesn't need to look to know that the screen is showing his new sign: #14 U R PRETTY. DATE?

He sees Harrington - Steve - look up, and watches as the frustration melts from his face, only for the prettiest pink blush to spread across his cheeks and ears. The guy laughs - and christ, Eddie didn't think he could get any more beautiful, but here he is - and doesn't hesitate to nod, even makes a little call me motion like he knows Eddie's watching him.

Eddie beams and nods back, laughs when the other player in the box shoves Steve playfully and makes a comment that deepens the blush on his face. He gets a couple of shoves and smacks from his own friends and a bewildered "I can't believe you just did that!" from Gareth.

Chrissy leans into him as he cleans the board again. "Hockey's not so boring now, is it?" she says, and Eddie can't help but agree, his eyes never leaving the ice - leaving Steve - for the rest of the game.

[jarofstyles]

Pierced

Hi my ducklings! So this is part 2 of Pierced Through The Heart but it can be read as a standalone! I'm sorry it took me so long I've been hella depressed lol. I hope you lover her!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 220+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.4k

Warnings- mention of needles, piercing is done/described, oral sex

“Alright… So tell me honestly. No bullshit. How badly does this hurt?” Swinging her legs on the bench, she watched her boyfriend gather what he needed for the piercings.

After becoming his official girlfriend- which hadn’t taken very long- she was quick to cash in on her free piercing promise. The first had been a cartilage piercing, but this was definitely a bigger decision.

Her nipples.

Harry looked up from his preparations, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the hidden nervousness in her eyes. She liked to play tough but he knew how she was. He didn’t tease her about it too much, but he knew. “It really depends. I’ve had a lot of people who say it doesn’t hurt nearly at all, some who say it does, but only a few who have passed out from it. But I’ll make it quick, promise. And afterwards, you’ll have something beautiful to show for it.”

“I mean, I think I’ve got a good pain tolerance.”

The shop was closed for the day, leaving only Harry and Y/N in the place. It was quieter than she would have imagined, only the noise of their chatting and the soft music on the radio in the back. It had been louder when she came to get her cartilage done when she had brought lunch for both of them a few weeks back. “Hey. wait.” Her brow raised. “Have you ever fucked a customer?”

“Well fuck, come right out with it then.” Harry chuckled at the sudden change in topic, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Her lack of filter was something he did like about her though. “No, love, can’t say I have.” He walked over to where she was sitting on the bench, leaning against the wall next to her.

He reached out and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers gently tracing along her jawline. “But I have to say, the idea of fucking a customer who sits on this very bench, getting pierced by my hands, is a pretty tempting one.”

Y/N felt her face heat, his blatant flirtation still getting to her and making her feel giddy. Once the confession had been made, he had fallen completely into loverboy mode- with a libido that she heavily enjoyed the benefits of. “Hm.” It pleased her that he hadn’t had anyone here. She would have been jealous… but knowing he was flirting with the idea of doing it with her? That was a welcomed answer. “Maybe if you’re good and be nice to me when you pierce my tits, I’ll consider it.”

He was always oh, so nice to her. He worshipped her, really. It was insane, actually, sometimes making her wonder if her previous lovers actually liked her at all because the way Harry treated her seemed so genuine and second nature and yet so enamored that she was shocked. The smirk on his lips as he placed the sanitized packaging down on the table beside them made her tummy flip.  “Oh, love, I promise I’ll be extra gentle when I pierce those perky little nipples of yours. They’re my favorite too, y’know.”

“Mmm.” She pursed her lips to hold back a. grin. “You better. I’m delicate, you know.”

Harry chuckled lightly, moving away from her ear and looking into her eyes. He raised a hand to cup her chin, gazing at her like she was the only thing he wanted to look at in this whole world. She sorta was. “Alright, delicate flower. Take that top off and let me see those tits.”

Y/N couldn’t help her laugh, shaking her head as she undid the buttons of her shirt. Harry was the professional here, so he had given her the rundown on how it was going to work- including the fact that he couldn’t play with them for a while after to make sure they healed properly. He had mourned that but quickly got over it when he imagined her, audibly, having them pierced. Theh would suit her incredibly well.

“I’m still sad you’ll have to keep your mouth off of them for a while.” She pouted, opening her shirt to expose her breasts to him. “What a shame.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her, finding her cute when she pouted—he wanted to kiss that pout, but could stop himself from doing so. He stared at her bare breasts longingly, nodding at what she had said. "I know, it is a shame. I’ll get back to it soon enough, though."

Reaching out, he gently took one of her nipples between his fingers, giving it a soft pinch before letting go and reaching for the other. He did the same, his thumbs rolling over the sensitive buds as he admired them. "Fuck, they really are perfect. I'm going to love piercing these."

The touch had her squeezing her legs together. While it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to remember that her boyfriend had his hands on plenty other breasts when he had to pierce them, she assumed he wasn’t as liberal with the touching as he was now. “God, that feels nice.” She whispered, letting the shirt fall off her shoulders.

Harry's gaze darkened at the sight of her bare breasts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He realized he was getting a little ahead of himself, but he couldn't help it—she was just too captivating. "Yeah?" He smirked at her, letting go of her nipples before reaching up to play with her breasts in their entirety. He lifted them, feeling their weight in his hands, gently massaging with his fingers. He couldn't wait to do the same with the barbells in them.

“H….” Y/N’s voice was scolding but barely so, breathy as she leaned her head back and watched as he held them in his palms. His big fucking hands that felt so good whenever he touched her. “You’re being dirty… I hope you aren’t like this with your paying clients.” She teased.

Letting out a laugh, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he teased them. "Oh, M’always the most professional with my clients. But with you...I can't help myself." He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, his breath warm on her skin as he added "You're the only one I can be dirty with, Y/N. The only one I can touch however I want, say whatever I want. And right now, I want to bury my face between your tits and not come up for air."

“D’you think you should?” She whispered. “You know… Cause you’re not gonna be able to for a while while they’re healing… feel kinda bad that your favorite toys are gonna be for looking and no touching.”

 "I do think about it, believe me. I fucking hate that they'll be out of bounds for a while." He nuzzled into her neck, groaning softly as he pressed a kiss to the skin. "But at the same time, I'm fucking thrilled to get to see these beauties every day, even if it means no touching." 

“You are insane.” She widened her thighs for him to stand between her legs. “Luckily, I like it. So I give you permission to suck on them a little bit… one last taste for a bit.”

Harry's eyes lit up, and he didn't waste a moment in moving to comply with her request. He leaned forward, capturing one of the nipples between his lips and sucking gently. He could feel her arching into him, moaning softly as he teased the sensitive flesh.

Y/N let out a soft moan, the cool metal of his tongue piercing brushing against the pebbled nipple. his large hand held her breast in his hand, keeping it where he wanted as she leaned back on her hand, giving him access to her chest. “God, that piercing is the best thing you’ve done to yourself.” His tongue was the best one.

Harry chuckled softly against her skin, switching to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment. He was relishing in this moment, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. "I knew you'd like it." he murmured, his words vibrating through her breast.

Holding it still, giving his tongue free reign to tease the the sensitive skin. He could feel her heart beating faster under his touch, her breath hitching as he played with her. It was so lovely that his pleasure in giving was just as appreciated in receiving.

To Y/N, every movement of Harry's tongue sent sparks shooting directly to her cunt. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was concentrated on the tips of her tits, and the cool metal only heightened the sensation. With gentle yet firm sucks and teasing licks, he had her sensitive nipples hardened and tingling, the sensation making her arch into his face. One hand held the back of his neck, her own head falling back as he switched back to the other nipple.

“Jesus…” She laughed breathlessly as his teeth grazed the swollen skin. “Careful, baby. You’ve still got t’pierce it. Don’t make me too sensitive.”

Harry chuckled against her skin, pulling back slightly. "You think m’new at this? I know my girl’s tits, baby." He said, smirking as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I know just how far to push it." 

“Mhm.” She narrowed her eyes at him, reaching up to wipe some of his spit from the corner of his mouth. It was shocking how dirty he could get, considering how clean every other part of his life was. “Let’s go then. I gave you your time. I want my nipples pierced.”

Adjusting his position, albeit with a slight pout, he reached for the tray of sterilized needles and other equipment to get it all ready. He didn’t forget the main objective. "Yes ma'am, we’ll get right to it." He sighed, playfully saluting her.

It took little time before she had Harry carefully cleaning her nipples with a medicated wipe, making sure every inch of skin was prepped for the piercing. He then applied a small amount of numbing gel to minimize any discomfort, massaging it into her nipples with gentle fingers. He tried to innocently say it was to help it work better but she only had to give him a look before he let it be.

“Alright, darlin’. Gonna be just like how I told you, okay?” Giving her a reassuring smile, he settled in front of her. “S’gonna pinch, but it’ll be over quickly. When I start to do it, let out and breat through your nose.” Harry's hands were steady as he picked up the needle, focusing on her left nipple first. He pinched the skin lightly with a sterile clamp, ensuring that her piercing would be straight and perfect. He then aligned the needle, giving her the instruction to give her exhale before pushing it quickly through her skin.

She winced slightly as the needle pierced her skin, but Harry was right there to soothe her. He quickly attached the short piece of jewelry and moved to her other nipple, repeating the process. This time around, she knew what to expect and took it better than before.

Her agony lasted just a moment, but he didn't feel right about letting her endure pain alone. Once her nipples were pierced and the jewelry sturdily in place, he was thorough, making sure everything was clean and sanitary before removing his gloves and gripping her chin and placing a soft peck to her lips. “You, lovely, took that better than most people I’ve ever pierced.” His words were genuine. Y/N really had taken it better than grown men had.

“Really?” Her eyes had teared up a bit during the process and yeah- it had hurt.. But it was tolerable enough. She could feel it throbbing as the new piercings adjusted, Harry helping her pull her shirt back on. He had taken the liberty to button her top back, making her grin at how second nature it was for him. Harry liked to take care of her in any way, she was finding out more and more each day.

His thumb stroked over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear, letting out a little hum. "Yeah, honestly, you did amazing. I'm proud of you. Fuck, I bet you're a beautiful crier, aren't you?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she caressed his jaw. The beard was growing in and she loved how it felt under her fingers as she ran them over his face. “You tell me everything I do is beautiful. I think you’re biased.”

Harry's heart warmed as she caressed his jaw. He fucking loved the feeling of her fingers against him. It had become second nature now for her to touch as she pleased and he couldn’t get enough of it. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling her hand with his cheek before pulling it down to kiss her knuckles.  "Yeah, m’totally fucking biased, but why the hell wouldn't I be?" He smirked down at her, stilling her hands and placing them both around the back of his neck before stealing another kiss. "I think you're beautiful, amazing, fuckin’ hilarious, smart as hell… sexy.” He smirked, making her scoff. “No, none of that. I mean every word.” Cradling her cheek, he took a moment to look at her before his eyes drifted down to his now covered work on her tits. “And M’more than honored that now a piece of my work is on your body.”

He watched as she looked down at her covered chest, he could tell she was admiring the work even while covered. "How do you feel?" He inquired lightly.

“I’m good.” It wasn’t really a pain now more than a soreness. But what she hadn’t expected was how it had… sort of turned her on. That pain and the reminder of it made her wake in a different way. Sure, they’d fucked around a bit and he had spanked her and stuff, but this sort of pain was different. Add in the fact that he had said in a fuck drunk lusty spiel against her ear the night before that he was horny over being the one to give her the piercing because it would feel like another claim to her, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So naturally, it was time to do something about it.

“I think you did a good job… so I think it’s time for your tip.” A mischievous smirk lit up her lips as she slowly slid to the floor from the bench, knees on the tile as she reached for his belt.

"Fuck, baby." Harry couldn't help but groan at her words, his hands finding her hair as she knelt on the floor in front of him. When she began to work on his belt, he felt his cock jerk to attention and he held his breath. “You don’t have t’do that, baby. I… I didn’t do it for you t’suck me.”

“I know.” Her warm hand ran over his cock, feeling it twitch up against her palm. “That’s partially why I wanna.” It was easy work getting his belt off, leaning in and kissing his cock over his jeans. “Is this an acceptable tip?”

Harry's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned back on the counter, his fingers slowly carding through her hair. "Y/N…" he groaned out, his hips moving forward when she mouthed at his erection over the denim. "…yeah, that's an… s’an acceptable tip. Only for you."

Harry's lips parted as he felt her teeth gently skim over the length of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. "Fuck, don’t…" Harry's hands tightened in her hair, his head falling back against the counter as she continued to mouth at his dick through his jeans. "Y/N, stop, please... I don't wanna cum like this. Want your mouth."

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up at how heavily it effected him. “What about this has you all worked up, baby? I’ve barely touched you…”

Harry's breath hitches in his throat as she speaks, his heart racing in his chest. He looks down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration. "It's because you're being so fucking gentle with me." His voice strained as she ran her finger over the waistline of uis jeans. Something about how she treated him, especially when she got that teasing look on her face, got him all riled up.

“Hm… you like me being all gentle, then?” Looking up at him through her lashes, she gently lifted her other hand under his shirt and lightly dragged her nails down his abdomen. “You like when m’nice and sweet to you?”

Harry shuddered at the feeling of her nails scraping against his skin, a low moan rising in his throat. "Fuck, yeah," he gasped out, fingers taking root in her hair. "I love when you're sweet to me… S’nice having such a sweet girl all for me."

“You’re so hot, H.” She grinned, fingers clasping on his button and slowly dragging down his zipper. “I love that you like that about me. Promise I’ll make this good.” his briefs had a wet patch from his cock leaking, her finger tracing over his twitching length. “Wanna be in my mouth?”

Harry's breath hitches as she speaks, his hips jerking forward as her finger traces over his leaking head. "Yes," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to be in your mouth so fucking bad, m’baby..." He looks down at her, his eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N... just give me somethin’." His hands are tightened slightly in her hair, his body thrumming with need. 

Sharp jaw clenched, his body tensed as she slowly licked along the base of his shaft, lapping up the bead of moisture at the tip. He watches her, his eyes dark with desire, his voice ragged as he mumbled her name again, pulling her further in. Seeing him slightly desperate really did it for her- so she decided to give it to him. Slowly sucking the tip into her mouth, her tongue lapped over the leaking slit before she let herself sink down a little, pulling back with a soft ‘pop’ sound. “Like that?”

Harry groaned, his head falling back as she started to suck on the tip. "Yes, jus’ like that, baby. Suck me right into that perfect mouth.” Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock as she slowly took him in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Seeing her lips stretched around his girth made him throb harder, his eyes nearly rolling back from the sensation. "That's it, sweetheart. Can I give you some more?"

Before she took him in deeper she nodded, letting Harry's hands find their place in her hair. Holding her in place as he started to thrust gently, his cock slid in and out of her mouth with a sinfully wet sound that had him reeling. His breath hitched as he looked down at her, his perfect vision as he watched his cock disappear between those perfect lips over and over.

Y/N looked like a fucking wet dream. Her lips were plump and stretched around his cock, her cheeks hollowing with every suck. Her eyes were half closed as she focused on him, her brows furrowed in concentration as she took him deeper. A string of spittle connected the tip of his cock to her lips for a moment as she pulled back before plunging back down, her nose nuzzling into the groomed thatch of hair on his groin. Her hands gripped his thighs for support, a blush rising on her cheeks as she continued to pleasure him, letting him lead.

When she took him all the way down, Harry threw his head back and let out a low moan. He felt her gag slightly, her lips brushing against his balls as she tried to take every inch of him. "Oh fuck, baby. That feels so fucking good. Knew you could do it. Tha’s my fucking girl." The guttural groan had her whimpering around him, teary eyes opening a little more to look up at him. It was one of her favorite parts about giving head- getting to see his pretty face contorted with pleasure that she was providing. 

Harry's thighs shook a little as she sucked him messily, her tongue working him over with each bob of her head. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, his breath coming in short, quick bursts. "Shit, sweetheart. M’gonna cum soon if you don't stop." Y/N was talented at giving head, better than anyone he had been with, and it was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because… obviously. A curse, because he didn’t last as long as he wanted to. He wanted to savor every bit of it.

Harry felt his balls tightening, signaling that he was about to come. He didn't want it to end so soon, but Y/N was just too good at what she did for him. He pulled her up and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "Goddammit, angel."

She moaned as he kissed her, hand falling down to his spot soaked cock and stroking it in her palm. The wet click of her strokes meddled with their kissing, making her even more eager to finish him off. “It’s okay, baby.” She breathed against his mouth. “Don’t care if it’s quick. Just like making you feel good. I love how you feel in my mouth. Can’t get enough of you. Jus’ let me go back and suck you more, want you to finish in my mouth.”

Harry's breathing quickened at her words. "Shit. If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna fucking cum right now." He closed his eyes as she dropped back to her knees. It was only natural as she went back to sucking him, her hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock as she gave tight strokes.

He really, really couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as Y/N went back to sucking him. Her tongue worked its magic on his tip before she took him in as deep as she could, swallowing around him to make him hiss. He felt her hand moving in time with her mouth, creating a perfect rhythm.

Harry's eyes rolled back as he felt Y/N's warm lips delve down for a moment, licking over his sac before returning to his cock. He could already tell he wasn't going to last long, the feeling building in his balls. Grabbing onto her already messy hair, he pulled her closer. "Fuck, baby." He could feel his orgasm building, the feeling spreading from his balls and up his shaft. "Ah, fuck, Baby..” he whined, gritting his teeth. “M’gonna cum, keep fuckin’ doing that. My perfect girl, always make me feel so good. Filthy little thing getting on your knees for me after I pierce your tits. God, m’so obsessed with you." He was babbling a bit, but he couldn’t help it. It truly felt so good that he could pass out given the chance. 

Y/N could hear the desperation in Harry's voice, knew he was close. She loved giving him this kind of pleasure, the kind that made him lose it a little bit. Ever since their first time he had no qualms about showing her how much he adored her while she did this, and it only got better with time. As weird as it may seem, she really loved making him feel good, the weight of him in her mouth- but she wanted to finish him. She picked up her pace and used her free hand to fondle his balls.

"Fuuuck..." Harry hissed, his breath hitching as Y/N added that in, making him lose it. It was too much, too fucking much and he loved it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a loud moan, he came. It orgasm hit him hard and fast, his cock pulsing against her tongue as he released his load into her warm and waiting mouth. He tried his best to warn her, but he couldn't form words as he rode out his high. Y/N continued to suck him off as he came hard, milking the last of his orgasm out. She swallowed everything, looking up at him with a hum of satisfaction. Harry was utterly spent, and all that could leave his lips was a shaky grunt of her name.

That was the only thing she wanted to hear when he felt good.

Pulling off of him, a string of spit hung between her lips and the tip of his cock as she smiled up at him, utterly pleased with herself. Getting Harry to cum like that was a privilege, one that she was lucky enough to be the only one to do.

Letting out a laugh in disbelief, he grabbed a handful of Y/N's hair and pulled her up to meet his lips in a deep, messy kiss. He tasted himself on her lips and tongue, only adding to his post-orgasm haze. He held her there, kissing her sloppily as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck me, that was incredible.” He mumbled into the kiss. “Can barely feel my fuckin’ feet.”

“Good.” Her smile was giddy as she pulled back to wipe her mouth, giving him her most innocent smile. “Hope you enjoyed your tip, baby. If I ever find out someone else did the same, I’ll kill them.” She said in an overly sweet tone.

He chuckled, pulling her close again, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. As if he’d ever need anyone else with the way she made him feel. "Only you do it for me, babe."

“Damn right.” She grumbled, pulling back and wiping her mouth. “Now that payment has been approved… I think I need you to feed me actual food, please.”

Still slightly reeling, he hummed, rubbing his hand over his messy hair as he watched her walk off to grab her coat. "Fine, fine. Let's get some food. Can’t let my number one client starve.”

[felibrary]

CHRONICLES OF A LOVESTRUCK BOY

PAIRING: rin itoshi x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: rin doesn’t care how he’s perceived by others—aloof, cold, grumpy—you name it. but deep down, rin itoshi, is no better than an immature teenage boy, especially when you’re around and rin realizes that maybe sometimes it’s still okay to be a kid.

wordcount: 0.7k | content & warnings: established relationship, fluff, very light angst if you squint, rin and reader are head over heels for each other (boo cheesy) ; drabble

art credits: sono_Zha on X!

author's note: i still didnt watch bllk season 2 LMFAO and uhm sorry for the writing hiatus...but hey..i'm back!! (hopefully) only thing i saw was rin with his tongue stuck out #callmewhatyouwantcallmewhatyouneed

“do i seriously have to wear this?” rin grumbles. you look behind and catch a glimpse of his unimpressed cerulean eyes, directly staring at you, and you can’t help but chuckle. but neither his sour expression nor his rosy-tinted cheeks caught your attention—no, it was the small christmas tree hair clip that clipped his fringe back. 

rin’s hair wasn’t short enough to rest on his forehead without covering his eyes, nor was it long enough to tuck behind his ears. your solution? buy your boyfriend a hair clip as a gift. to say that rin was happy about the gift would be an understatement. no, really. he was beyond excited—over the moon even.

(as you handed him the wrapped gift you were already cracking a laugh, and seeing rin’s disbelieving face as he opened it, made you burst into laughter—from there on rin stared at you for 5 minutes, not saying a single word.)

“come on “mr. rin goes to uni and leaves with a complaint-degree-itoshi” it’s cute. don’t lie.” you chide gleefully. “if you play another one of these word games, i’m gonna leave.” rin states nonchalantly, avoiding your gaze. 

the both of you know that he isn’t being serious, still, you play along. “you wouldn’t dare,” you express dramatically as you try to stifle your laughter. rin looks back at you and his eyes soften. “‘cause you love me too much to ever leave me or am i wrong?” and for the first time this evening, rin cracks a small smile. the gesture is followed by the shake of his head and grabbing your hand to drag you to the photo booth. “let’s go.”

you trail after him, and feel how his hand squeezes yours tighter. it’s his version of telling you that you shouldn’t get lost in the crowd and should stay by his side. instead of walking slightly behind rin, you catch up to him and now walk next to him. 

“rin, you haven’t answered my question from before,” you mention, and rin halts, slightly tilting his head like a small confused pup which makes you smile. before you know it, his eyes are gleaming and he lets out a small sigh of relief. “there’s no need for me to answer a question to which you already know my response.” your smile widens, and rin continues to guide you through the crowd.

arriving at the photo booth, you signal rin to slightly lean down and he complies. you reach out your hand and brush the snow out of his hair. “there, looking pretty as always.” you compliment him, and rin shakes his head.  “says you,” and you chuckle before getting into the photo booth. 

there’s four pictures for each strip, so you and rin make the best out of it. the poses range from goofing around, leaning one’s head on the shoulder, or a kiss on the cheek. after the pictures were done printing you took them out and proudly showed them to him. 

seeing how joyous and excited you were for a mere photo strip made him feel warm. it wasn’t that he was against taking pictures with you, no, in fact, he loved it. your smile was always contagious and you were beaming from ear to ear that even rin couldn’t help but smile. 

the reason why he didn’t want to take the pictures or at least avoid looking at them after they were done printing was because of him wearing the hair clip. it wasn’t that he disliked your gift, but he just looked like someone he didn’t want to. rin was scared that when he’d look at the pictures it wasn’t him you were standing next to but his brother.  

you knew that rin had a rivalry with his brother going on—become the best striker in the world to prove to him that he can do it without sae. but he never went into detail about how sae’s absence affected him, how whenever he stared into the mirror and clipped his hair back, it wasn’t his reflection that stared back but the one from his brothers.

but how could he ever think that when you’re here, laughing over how cute he looked and that he should wear it more often? is this what people mean when they say that they’re going to miss a moment they’re currently experiencing?

the cold, everlasting winter leaves behind layers of snow that stick and cover the ground as a whole before melting into puddles of water when the sun appears behind the clouds, granting its rays to the earth and sending its warmth to those who are stuck in capsules of melancholy. 

for rin there’s no more precious gift than you.

additional: a few weeks later you visit rin, and spot the photo strip glued to his mirror and you can’t help but crack a small smile.

tags: if there's been one thing i've been continuously doing this year its writing @azullumi a small note under each of my works. hello beloved <3 i'm actually not quite sure if you're into blue lock, but HELP RECENTLY I CAME ACROSS A TIKTOK ON MY FYP OF A MICHAEL KAISER EDIT AND THE INTRO WAS A FANART OF PREGNANT DEKU AND BAKUGO I THINK??? AND U REPOSTED I THOUGHT 😭😭 but anyway, its hard to believe that this year is almost over but what it's harder to believe is that i was able to grow and blossom so much as a person this year—all thanks to you. you're the friendship that i needed that i gained this year. you hold such a precious place in my heart that i fear if you'd ever leave it'd feel like a piece of my heart were missing. i don't know how i was supposed to survive this year without you. you were there for me when i was at my lowest mentally but also at my peak of writing HAHAH. you were always my number one supporter which I'm beyond grateful for. when i met you, i was surprised at how easily a person was able to understand and sympathise with me because I've always felt hard to understand but you—you made it seem so natural. you loved me as if it were in your nature to love me. and the same goes from me to you. loving you comes as easy as breathing, azul. i love you. wishing you lots of strength for the new year xx (no we're not together.)

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[cowlings]

going feral thinking about izu masturbating. need me some hc’s if you’re up for it?

i’ve been a reader of yours for a while btw and wanted to say i luv ur work

warnings for nsfw, mdni! mentions of masturbation, implied mutual masturbation + phone sex(?)

izuku midoriya doesn’t like to masturbate. he’s in love with how you do it, and he prefers your hand over his.

but when he’s away on a mission or can’t spend the night with you, he’s sometimes troubled with past memories. he starts off with a text, saying “hey… so i got flashbacks from last week” and from then on he’s admitting to how his mind is plagued with the image of your plush lips delicately kissing his tip while his fingers were cowardly gripping your hair.

and you offer to send a few pictures when he’s alone, but with one condition: he has to send a few back. because if it ain’t mutual it ain’t fun. so izuku midoriya embarks on the journey of pleasuring himself to the most godly videos of you he has ever seen.

it doesn’t take long, because izuku cums fast. his hand feels awkward when it’s pumping his cock, but when he closes his eyes and visualizes your body looming over his, your delicate fingers grazing his sensitive tip with pre, his body shivers. he desperately tries to recreate your movements as he lets out the lewdest of sounds inside his hotel bathroom.

izuku treasures the videos you send so much. but he also treasures the ephemeral aspects of it. he asked for you to send videos that can only be played one time, which allowed you to send multiple. they’re followed by a single text, “i’m waitingggg”

he knows exactly what you want, because above all, you put izuku’s pleasure above your own. it takes a few minutes, but the moment you open the video he sent, it’s like there’s hearts in your eyes. it’s incredible, the way in which his cock pumps out so much cum, you can’t help but want it all over you.

[unlimitedbutchworks]

i wish it was less complicated to talk about the ways in which people preferentially support transfems who present or talk about themselves in similar ways as before transition but there’s so many layers it’s just a pain and everyone else tunes it out. julia serano wrote that it’s often the case for tomboyish, masculine, or butchy trans women to be preferred and sought after over feminine trans women (notice how neutral isn’t an option for us? Ha-ha.) in lesbian and queer spaces, but i don’t think this is a whole truth in of itself; trans women who are very feminine are often othered and pushed away, but at the same time, the “support” for the masculine or boy-identified transfems is also highly circumstantial and fairweather. many perceived markers of masculinity, or absences of femininity, still bring transmisogynistic punishment and othering on these women.

in reality, i think what is really happening here is an unspoken, perhaps sometimes even unconscious bias against transfeminine transition. people who aren’t transfem, and often especially other trans people, are uncomfortable and afraid of the hybridity implied by people they thought were men blooming and changing and taking on aspects they didnt think possible. they don’t know what to do with the anomaly that calls the legitimacy of the binaries and gender systems into question through her active living, and so they want them to stop or to couch it within a context of preserved masculinity, manifesting as this “preference”. it’s a subliminated desire against transition rather than an enjoyment of masculine women, a shoring up of gendered walls to defend what manhood they hope remains, and sometimes it’s directly for detransition.

this is why you see people clamor about how attractive trans women with cropped short hair and undercuts are when a girl muses about how long her hair is getting. why you see people say that trans women who get laser hair removal are supporting gender norms, but at the same time misgender and hate on trans women with thick unshaven body hair. it’s why they love to see you joke about how bad of a man you make, but are put off and disturbed when you try to be taken seriously as anything else. even if they don’t word it or see it as such, a lot of people just genuinely only want transfems in their life to stay as hollow, subservient husks of boyhood for their enjoyment or political tokenization

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part one]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: a very sweet story of paige and azzi from best friends to lovers 🥰

a/n: lowkey came up with this on a whim bc yall know how much i love angsty pazzi…probably gonna make this into a short series so lmk if you all want another part :)

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

“Ella said she’s worried about you.”

As Paige hovers over her, propped up by a pillow on one side, Azzi thinks that Ella might not have been as dumb as she’d thought. Here she is, with her best friend, in only a sports bra and sweats so low that they’re barely clinging onto her hips. The best friend in question is leaning on her elbow, one hand splayed across Azzi’s bare abdomen, a smirk on her face as soft strands of blonde hair tickle the younger girl’s face.

Azzi slots her leg in between Paige’s, drawing her impossibly closer. “Why would she ever say that?” She asks teasingly, the corner of her lips tugging up.

Paige’s smirk grows dangerous. Her eyes drag down Azzi’s body, doing a slow perusal of Azzi’s chest. “This doesn’t look close to you?”

Azzi tilts her head, batting her big brown eyes under her full eyelashes. “Who cares? I mean, it’s not like you two are dating or anything.” But knowing Paige’s tendency to hide sensitive topics from her until the last moment, her tone drops. “Are you?”

“No.” Paige laughs. “Just fucking around.” Her hands slide lower down Azzi’s stomach, until her thumb is caressing the dip of her V-line.

Azzi holds her breath, trying to ignore the fire uncurling in her stomach. “Does it mean anything to you?”

“I don’t know.” Paige withdraws her hand, replacing it with her head as she settles on Azzi’s chest with a sigh. The action is so casual, so familiar that it makes Azzi’s heart hurt. Sex with Paige is one thing. Intimacy like this, where she can feel her bare skin against Paige’s, feel Paige’s heartbeat, as they lie together, legs intertwined and breaths in sync? That’s a whole other ballpark.

“I don’t even know what we’re doing,” Paige admits, her voice slightly muffled as she speaks into Azzi’s chest. “She confuses me.”

Azzi almost scoffs out loud at the irony. Paige hs always been hot and cold, flirting with Azzi one moment and giving her a look that Azzi swears is only reserved for her, but chatting it up with another girl at the bar the next. It feels like a constant back and forth with her best friend. Sometimes it feels like Paige has her heart on a pendulum, has been since she was 16, yet lately it’s felt like it’s been ricocheting out of control, the string slowly turning into a thread.

“I think she thinks I’m in love with you or some shit.” Paige has been yapping for the last few minutes as Azzi’s lost herself in her thoughts, but it’s this sentence, thrown out so callously, that freezes her blood. “Which is, like ridiculous, you know?”

Azzi struggles to catch her next breath. But Paige has turned her head and is looking at her now, expecting her to say something, so she forces out a dry laugh. “Yeah,” she mutters. Clearing her throat, she forces herself to steady her voice. “No yeah, that’s crazy.” Azzi is confident - she knows she’s drop dead gorgeous, knows she could mess around with as many guys or girls as she’d want. And she knows full well the effect she has on Paige, how the older girl always goes speechless whenever she’s in that pink lingerie set, unable to keep her hands off her ass even when she’s covered head to toe in an unflattering sweat suit. Yet something about her has never been good enough for Paige, for her to want to call Azzi hers.

Seemingly pleased with her answer, Paige plops back down. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” she says decisively.

Azzi lies there for a second before checking her phone. The only notification she has is from PT. She needs to come earlier than usual tomorrow for another progress test. Azzi swallows. “It’s getting pretty late,” she says.

“What?” Paige checks her own phone. “It’s only ten.”

“I know, but it’s been a long day. My knee hurts.”

Paige’s bright blue eyes round in concern as she quickly gets off her best friend, scrambling to sit criss cross on the bed. “Was I hurting it? Lying on you? Shit, Az, you should’ve told me.”

“No,” Azzi waves her best friend off. “It’s just throbbing. I think I just need to take some meds and sleep.”

Paige frowns. “Okay.” She pads out of the room, returning a few moments later with a bag of frozen peas and Azzi’s pink Stanley. “Here. And I moved the Advil to the top drawer of your bedside table right there.”

“Thank you.”

Paige falters. Usually Azzi asks her to stay, to scratch her back until she falls asleep or just hold her as she grits through the pain. “Do you need anything else?”

Azzi doesn’t even look at her. Sliding on her headphones, she shakes her head.

“Okay.” Azzi ignores the hurt and confusion in Paige’s voice. The blonde wears her heart on her sleeve. “Night.”

“See you.”

Paige turns off the lights and shuts the door, and Azzi feels the darkness like never before.

••

8:15 pm, January 8 2024

P: yooo

P: we talked for like hours and i think we’re going somewhere

P: i think im gonna ask her to be my gf

A: oh shit Paige

A: that’s great

A: happy for you 💗

P: i’ll be over in 20 min

P: have you eaten? i had dinner w ella but i can pick up some food for you if you’re hungry?

A: can’t do movie night tonight P

A: knee’s hurting

A: next week?

P: oh okay

P: i hope it feels better

P: don’t forget to use your compression sleeve

P: i doordashed you some food from chikfila, lmk if you want anything else

A: thanks paige

5:27 am, January 14 2024

A: hey where are you?

5:32 am

A: we gotta leave soon or i’ll be late

5:40 am

A: Paige???

Missed call from Azzi💗

Missed call from Azzi💗

A: nvm i’ll just take an uber

8:15 am

P: shit Azzi

P: i’m so sorry

P: i told aubrey to tell you that i couldn’t take you to rehab but she must’ve forgotten

P: i should’ve just texted you

A: it’s good

A: where you at?

P: impromptu trip to nyc

P: ella wanted to go to the knicks game

A: nice

A: hope you had fun

P: how was rehab?

P: any updates?

1 pm

P: dude look

Attachment: 1 Image

P: reminds me of belarus

P: i remember you were so fucking wasted lmfaoo

5:45 pm

P: are you ghosting me now

P: jk

P: but fr

P: you good??

6:45 pm

A: sorry still at pt

A: there’s an issue with the healing in my tissue or something they said

P: i’ll be there to take you to your next appointment i swear

A: actually i was thinking

A: it’s probably better if i just take an uber from now on

A: it’s a four hour round trip and you’re stuck waiting for me during the appointment too

P: it’s not an inconvenience

P: i like talking to your doctors

P: janelle was just getting to the part where she broke up with her bf

A: paige

A: i overheard ella complaining about it the other day

A: you’re getting up at 5 am every saturday to spend 7 hrs with your ex fwb

A: it’s not fair to either of you guys to take up your time like that

P: well when you word it like that ..

P: but you’re still my best friend

P. and ubers are expensive as hell

P: you’re seriously not gonna let me take you?

A: you’re gonna be thanking me once you realize how nice it is to sleep in on saturdays

P: i like spending time with you more than sleeping

Read 6:58 pm

9:40 pm, January 23 2024

P: hey sorry i meant to stop by yours before ted’s but ella needed to change

P: we’re in the back near the pool tables

9:55 pm

P: you’re coming right?

10:40 pm

A: don’t feel too good

A: i’ll just stay in and watch a movie or smthn

A: go have fun

P: bro

P: don’t be boring

P: u haven’t gone out with us in so long

P: i never even see u anymore

A: you can’t be serious rn

A: drinking with everyone after another win i couldn’t even contribute to is the last fucking thing i wanna do tonight

A: i thought you of all people would understand

A: but apparently not

P: I’m sorry

P: I didn’t mean to say that

5 minutes later

P: I miss you

P: Can I come over right now?

A: it’s fine

A: didn’t mean to snap im just tired

A: you’re with your gf and the team you deserve to celebrate

A: you did great tonight i’m proud of you

A: don’t worry ab me

P: i always worry about you

Read 11 pm

12:40 am

P: dude idk what the fuck happened but you’re so weird all the time now

P: do you hate me

P: am i stupid

P: jk

P: think i took too many shots

P: was tryna keep up with nika

P: i miss youuuuuuu

P: so much

P: i wish you’d let me come over

P: don’t tell ella but i kinda miss how things used to be

P: when we were just fucking around

P: now she’s so uptight ab me and you

P: but it’s whatever

P: shit i’m sorry az

P: i was hella drunk last night lmfao

P: ignore everything i said

Read 11 am

[amorre1989]

don't touch the curls!

how could he ever forget what you did last night before the date he organized for you? him, in love with you and your curls... couldn't resist the sight of his just showered girlfriend scrunching that hair he knows she likes to have pulled.

pairing: Spencer Reid; Reader

word count: 3,6k

content warnings: creampie, consume of fluids, kisses in intimate zones, unprotected sex, rubbing, stroking to F. (I think that's it :3)

you were explaining the profile you thought was accurate about the unsub to Morgan, JJ, Blake and your boyfriend, Spencer, that was hidden behind you, who was sitting in one of those chairs that have little wheels.

You were so focused on using the right words Spencer taught you, that you didn't realize he was so close to you and stroking strands of your hair.

He always tells you how beautiful he thinks your hair is besides the rest of you. He enjoys watching you scrunching your just washed hair in the bathroom, sometimes in the mirror he bought for you when you moved to his place months after starting to have sleepovers (as you called them, he thinks it's just hanging out with their partner for uncountable days) He was the one who offered you to move with him, and when you realized his presence wasn't inconvenient or annoying you officially realized how in love you were, are.

Observing you doing anything was his favorite activity of the week, and the fact that you were his all week always makes his chest sink (in a good way) and smile stupidly. Once you caught him looking at you while tying his shoes that now had a knot.

"what?" you asked smiling "I think...baby your ties" you laughed and got closer to help him untie them, to after tie them correctly.

"you're breathtaking...." he says, stroking your wet head that was a little crunchy from the gel. You got up and he kept touching your curls.

"baby... you're messing them up!" you say, guilty of stopping him from touching you...but you took too long making them pretty!

He looked at you and blushed "sorry" he said smiling shyly. He stroked your hips and leaned to kiss your stomach. "you're so beautiful...and you smell so good and now your hair smells good too...you smell like a dessert" he says between kisses, kisses on your uncovered belly that used to be covered by a shirt that he lifted, he unbuttoned your jeans and started to kiss the fabric of your panties. His grip was so strong you started to think you were gonna be late for your date.

You smiled and stroked his curls that he denied to crunch himself, so he leaves that job for you when you're not in a rush. He pulls you to bed and kisses you, you're not surprised anymore when you feel his tongue savoring your own, but God damnit it feels good every time. He kisses your lips once again to pass to your cheeks, your neck, your eyelids...he holds your chin, making you open your mouth slightly to insert his tongue inside. You moan and start to feel lightheaded, you feel everything deeper and start to pay attention to everything.

The way his tongue feels inside your mouth, almost choking you, his lips that are eating yours, his teeth that are sinking in your lower lip, his breathing hitting your skin like a breeze from the beach.

Suddenly he puts one hand around your neck, which makes you whimper surprised, you feel his smile against your lips. Then he starts to stroke your wet underwear. He moans inside your mouth and strokes your clit with his thumb. You still wonder how does he know those places that make you whine so shakyly.

"you feel so good, baby...so sweet and soft...and so wet..." he says between kisses that are exchanged between your lips and neck, his tongue passes behind your ear and you shiver.

"I can feel you shaking" he says, he likes to play like you're not the one making him crazy and he's the dominant one, which is a lie. He grips your thighs and pulls you to his lap, you feel his hard cock against your covered pussy, it's a privilege you can't deny when you have it, so you start to grind against it, you whimper and he bites his lower lip while observing your face, that expression you make...it makes his tip drip.

You can even feel it palpitating, it's so delicious because you feel exactly the same, now desperate to feel it closer.

"do you like that? do you like grinding against me?" he asks teasingly, it's obvious you adore it, your mouth waters for it. You nod and grip his shoulder with your nails. He moans silently, he loves feeling you loosing your sanity.

He unbuttons his trousers and you take the edge of his underwear to pull it down, he smiles and observes how you pull his hard dick out. You push him and he lays on bed supporting himself with his elbow to keep observing you while you take charge, it always starts and ends like this, he teases until you start to drip and get tired of him taking his time.

You rub against his cock and your underwear starts to get wet with his cum, it feels warm and sticky, exactly how you like it. He reaches your underwear and pull it to the side, he holds your hip and puts his cock inside your pussy.

He groans and you whine, it hurts, but you like it, you're tight so he has to push it in, but it's not that hard since you're both dripping. He lifts his hips and it gets all inside, you moan and start to ride him taking support in his chest. He closes his eyes and holds your hips to follow his ritm.

"Spence...god" you moan with your mouth dry, not even capable of forming a whole sentence.

"look how good you can take it..you're so good..." he says while stroking your cheek, he pulls you for a kiss and eats you alive again.

You start to feel him dripping inside and start to move more desperately, you moan, loudly and observe how his chest covered in that dark blue shirt rises up and down, just like you.

"baby im-" he tries to inform.

"I know" you say cutting him off "please... let me-" you whine. He gets your message and fastens the speed of his hips, he moans loudly and mumbles "fuck" under his breath while he observes his cum dripping inside your pussy. You moan so loud your eyes start to tear up, he covers your mouth and strokes your lower lip with the same thumb he touched you at first.

You smile and bite his thumb playful, he laughs filling the room with happiness "ouch!" he exclaims. "you bite so hard, your teeth are so strong" he says while moving his hand to your ass and strokes it playfully to after spank it leaving a temporary red in it.

"baby we should get going" you say while kissing his cheek. "alright...but don't you wanna-" you cut him off by giggling and saying "no! come on! well keep playing later if you don't fill your stomach with food" (which happens but it doesn't stop him anyway)

You get off his lap and before you can go wash up he holds your hip with one hand and with the other runs his finger trough your inner thighs and holds his own cum in his finger, he looks at you and you smile, you lean and hold his hand while you suck his finger. He moans and grip your hips tighter enough to make you whimper from pain, he kisses you and let you go change.

"Spence...baby!" you say, bringing him to the office again. He was having flashbacks from the night before.

"mh?"

"you were gonna tell them about that restaurant we went to yesterday that we liked, I don't remember the address" you say, completely nonchalant about the memories he was having.

"oh yeah, I was distracted" he smiles and strokes your head. You smile and look down at his lap and realize it should be better for him to stay behind the chair you're sitting.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 2 - Invisibility

In which I write probably my most demented smut so far. Predator/prey. Buckle up, friends and enemies, cause that man gets REAL WEIRD in this one. Full-force Creachur Astarion.

On Ao3.

On the third day of Eleint, she comes to him. Her dark eyes are warm, her limbs loose, and he doesn’t even have to scent the air to know what’s going on between her legs.

“Would now be a good time?” she says.

Always, he wants to say, though that’s not always true. Sometimes, even now, the memories seep in and it’s all he can do not to shred his own skin with his claws.

But this is not one of those times. This is the third day of Eleint, his Eleanor has a glint to her eye, and they’ve discussed this subject at length.

Astarion snaps his book shut and lets it drop to the floor. Rolls to his feet to sweep her into his embrace and buries his face against her neck to breathe her in, slow and deep.

Warmth, life. Salt and clean.

Moon blood.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he says and means it. Can tell in her gaze she sees the truth of it.

They’ve planned for this. Extensively. His Eleanor does love her planning. She’s quite prepared.

He’s not even surprised when he follows her upstairs to their bedroom, and she pulls a pack from their wardrobe. Removes the items within and inventories them on the bed. He takes a small, velvet pouch she holds out, and his groin is already starting to tighten. From her scent, of course, and from what he knows this pouch will lead to.

She goes over The Plan again. They both need to be certain, after all. There’s not much on his end; neither of them expect much on his end once they start, save for her words “red light.” She’s used them before; by now they’re both comfortable with it and what comes after, even if it sometimes makes his guts squirm.

No pain follows it, though. Not ever. Not after red light, not after cub. Sometimes they resume, and sometimes they just…stop. Hold each other. Dress and move to the lounge. Sometimes she’ll get herself a bite to eat, and sometimes she’ll give him her wrist or her neck when he needs it.

She dressed carefully, this night, from an outfit she had folded in that pack. It’s cheap material. Far too flimsy for road travel, but it’s meant to be cheap, and he watches her slip the layers on and his cock begins to fill in earnest.

She does not wear her moon blood belt. She does not tuck rags into her trousers (her face flushes adorably as she slips nothing but a single pair of panties on, followed by said trousers).

He has to lean against the wall and keep his arms crossed. His own trousers become uncomfortable.

She notices that. Of course she does. Gives him a little smile, the minx.

“Ready?” she says.

He wants to push her to the floor and spread her legs and—

He steps away from the wall. “Very, my love.”

The teleportation spell is not his favorite, even if it is useful. For this, though, he swallows down his complaints (he’ll be swallowing down much more pleasant things tonight), and a moment later, they step onto soft grass.

It’s a lonely patch of woods. Or as lonely as any patch of untended woods can be. They’d scouted it some months back, when passing near the Bear’s newest little enclave. No one lives out here. No guards, no gaggles. No one to get the wrong idea or try to do something stupid and ruin the night for all involved.

There’s also no goblins or worgs or other worrisome beasts. Just the bunnies and other snacks.

The late summer heat clings to the air, but the wind already sweeps a soothing chill over his face. His Eleanor glances about, her poor, human ears straining, and looks to him.

“We’re all alone,” he says.

His fangs ache. The beds of his nails tingle as his claws threaten to sharpen. Alone out here, in the wilds, with her.

They look at each other for a long moment. He lets himself enjoy the way the silver moonlight—nearly full, lucky him—paints over her skin, sinks into her dark hair.

“You sure about your getup?” she says.

He’s wearing his home clothes, the ones he was loafing about it: a loose tunic tucked into his trousers. He hadn’t thought to change. Had only grabbed his city shoes while trying to adjust himself in his underthings.

He waves her off. “I can replace it.”

Gives her an appreciative sweep. She put on a light jacket and a pair of stays, as she would need the support. At least initially. But they’re the most basic pair she owns. Easy to mend. Or replace, should he get a little…rough.

Most of all, his gaze is drawn to the juncture of her thighs, and the small, dark patch just beginning to show itself.

He’s scenting the air, isn’t he.

He slips the velvet pouch from his pocket. It’s a small thing. Light. Holds only two, delicate golden ear cuffs, which spill into his palm as he tips it.

He slides the first one up, halfway between the lobe and the point. His Eleanor licks her lips like a degenerate. He’d had the initial idea for this outing, but she’d leapt on it, proposed all of these additions.

The other cuff pinches on his other ear. They’re rather plain, with only the hint of swirled knot work along the sides. But they warm his ears as he speaks the activation. The magic sinks into them and spreads like warm fingers (hers) over his ears.

Until the world muffles itself. The racing rodent hearts disappear. The thunderous pulse of his love fades to nothing. He flails in his mind a moment—not used to this, danger, if he can’t hear, if he’s trapped in silence again—

“Still okay?”

He catches her voice. He can focus on that. He’s deafened as an elf. As a vampire. But they tested these on her, and she notices no difference.

“You poor thing,” he says, because she has to live like this, in such a dim and dull world all the time.

She flips him off. Unfortunately for her, he’s close enough to snap at the offending finger. Slowly, of course. Gives her ample time to pull away and snort. Which makes him want to kiss her.

So he does. Luxuriates in her hot mouth, the slide of her tongue, her scent and that heavy, heady ambrosia of her moon blood.

Gods, he’s glad she doesn’t mind letting him feast upon her like this. He tries to remember the feel of his life before this, before the beach and the tadpoles, and he cannot fathom existing so long without this. Without her.

But before he can be carried away, his Eleanor takes a step back. Her cheeks are flushed. Neck reddened down to where her skin disappears beneath her light jacket and stays and under tunic. Her eyes are pools of heat, her lips already swollen.

Her moon blood—when not crippling her in pain—can sometimes spike her desire. This appears to be one of those times (gods below, there’s a damp spot high on his thigh where he’s already leaking).

She retrieves a bottle from the pack she’s secured to her person. Liquid silver sparkles in the moonlight. His nail beds tingle hard and this time he cannot stop the claws from forming.

“You’re sure?” he says.

His delightful contradiction, no longer a virgin but having lost none of her hidden boldness, only says, “Close your eyes.”

He does.

A year or two ago, he wouldn’t have. Blindness meant vulnerability. Meant unseen blows to unprotected places. Meant clawing starvation hollowing his guts and drying out his flesh, his throat so withered he could barely produce a sound that wasn’t a deathly, rattling click.

Now, as he obeys, a shudder of anticipation shivers down his spine.

He can just hear her uncork the bottle. Cannot hear her swallowing, or the air in her lungs, or the way he imagines her own heart races in lust and anticipation.

Nor can he hear her shift closer. Not until the rustle of fabric reaches him, right in front of him. And the scent of her blood suddenly surges. His lips part as he gasps, and his demented little love sticks two, wet fingers into his mouth and the taste blinds him to anything else.

“Trackers need a sample scent, right?” she says.

She’s stuck her hand down her trousers. She’s smeared his lips and tongue with her blood. Lets him suckle desperately a moment before she steps away, and he’s left to wipe his mouth to ensure no drop escapes.

“You are utterly deranged,” he says.

“Pot kettle,” she says, another of her people’s charming sayings.

She falls silent after that. Astarion keeps his eyes closed, searching the spaces between his teeth with his tongue for any last hints of her.

“Darling?” he says after a moment.

No answer.

His cock throbs. His claws fully extend, his fangs aching.

He counts to forty three times. Opens his eyes.

He’s alone. The clearing is empty, with no trace of his darling. Nothing but her scent floating in the air, an invitation to him.

He nudges the empty bottle she left at his feet. It’s not like her to waste anything. Which means this is a taunt. The cuffs deafen his ears to her, a potion of invisibility blinds his eyes to her. All he has to track her is scent. Her skin, her hair, and the dizzying harpy song of one of his most favorite things: her blood.

He has one job. Well, two, but they’re the same in the end.

Track her. Hunt her. Capture her.

And take her. Any way he sees fit (that they’ve discussed, and she was quite open). Her blood, her body, her sex. She’ll try to evade him. But he will find her. He’ll plunge into her, first with his fangs, then with his cock. Or perhaps the other way around. Perhaps both at the same time. He’s not sure. Didn’t bother to plan that far, because that’s what she likes to do.

He sucks air deep into his lungs: plush grass (her plush thighs on his hips), damp earth (her wet cunt pulling him in), the almost sweet smell of late-summer leaves (her arousal thick as he slips his tongue against her).

There she is. Headed immediately for the thickest part of the underbrush. Hoping to hide her tracks, hide her trail, slow him down.

He imagines her crouched behind a tree. The startle as he grabs her, spins her, pressing her to that tree and the way she’d moan as he slipped inside her…

He reaches into his undergarments and adjusts his cock. Running like this won’t be fun, but it’ll be so, so worth it once he finds his devious darling.

He stops at the edge of the underbrush. Looks to the closest tree: a large oak. They’re all large, with wide, thick branches nearly touching.

Astarion ponders a moment, and then slips off his shoes. He doesn’t technically need to, but it seems the sort of thing to do.

Sets his bare foot on the rough bark, and scurries right up the side of the trunk into the canopy above.

Brush doesn’t matter to a godsdamned immortal vampire, after all.

***

The rest is on AO3 because I wrote like 14k for this, goddamn, and also for the horny.

[h3arts4abby]

abby anderson headcanons

over these past few days i couldn’t stop thinking about abby 🌝 so im doing some sfw and nsfw headcanons

some nsfw headcanons, but just at the start to skip those if you want the fluffy stuff

— 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 she loves massages. when she comes back to the base from a long night of patrol she whines for you to massage her neck or her tits

— 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 she can be scary and intimidating in front of other WLF’s and tries to be the same in front of you but when you get her alone she’s the poutiest, cutest girl ever (<3)

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 she’s usually seen as this buff masculine top but honestly she’s super cute in bed. obviously sometimes she loves taking control, having you ride her strap while she watches. but most of the time, especially in the mornings or when she’s tired, she’ll go softer. she’ll eat you out gently but enough to make you feel good, or use her strap, gently thrusting into you

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 she’s pretty vanilla most of the time, but after coming home from the bar, she’ll get pretty involved in some bdsm. bondage would be her go to, but sometimes she likes somno, as long as you consent first

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 abby loves cooking for you, even on nights where nothing really happened. she’ll make fancy pasta dishes, and come up with new recipes to try. the food is scarce at the base, but she’ll find things to work with, even sneaking ingredients from the garden or finding plants while on patrol

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 doesn’t really like pda, but she’ll never deny a kiss from you. she holds hands with you only when on patrol with her friends, and even then it’s iffy. sometimes they clown on her for it, but she knows you like it so she does it anyway.

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 she’s the definition of chivalry. she’ll open car doors, tie your shoes or take them off when they hurt, and everything in between. she does not miss when it comes to these things.

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 she does stupid things to prove she’s brave to you. obviously you already know she’s pretty stoic but she still loves the ego boost you give her when you gasp at her boldness of climbing up a wobbly latter or heading head first into a pair of runners. all of these things are calculated though, when you aren’t looking she’ll test the latter to make sure it won’t fall or she’ll plan out her attack so she doesn’t get bit. anything to see you squirm

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 she teaches you how to braid her hair so you can do it in the early mornings when she has patrol and is too tired, or when her arms hurt from the gym. eventually you learned all the different braids and hairstyles you could do, so she would appear for breakfast in space buns or the classic princess leia hair, which she knows you love

—𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 you pick up little things, like drawings or leaves, that remind you of her. eventually the collection has built up, and she has a box of them under her bunk. when your gone for long periods for a wlf mission or what have you, she’ll retrieve the box and fish through the items and chuckle at the different items you found.

[fawninthesnow]

𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Short POV One Shot

𐙚 Emperor Geta x Fem! Emperor Caracalla x Fem! 𐙚 18+

Summary: As one of Caracalla's concubines, you find yourself in a bind when you grab his brother's attention.

Warnings/contains: fem dom (kinda), sub male, concubines, smoking, alcohol consumption, obsession, idealization, not proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 0.6k

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

The air is filled with a pleasant stillness, broken only by the faint murmur of voices. People cluster in small groups, their chats blending into a soothing hum in the lounging room. Courtesans lay over the emperors and their guests; women laughed, and men gossiped over art they did not understand.

You lay your back over Emperor’s Caracalla’s lap. He spoke with a servant, listing out sweets; however, getting distracted every few moments by the pet monkey in his hair. From across the plush furniture, Emperor Geta waved his fingers your way.

It was best to smile and wave back but not engage *too* much. Caracalla, known for growing jealous of his brother easily, would not like that. However, you were never that fond of the childish man. You sat up, your long hair covering your breasts, and you waved to him. Geta smiled and sent over a pitcher of wine to you; to which, the other concubines on him grumbled. The few had to share their wine, and even then, it was never a full *pitcher*.

After the servant placed the pitcher onto the table, and poured you a cup, she whispered, “Enjoy.” You smiled at him again, and Geta smirked.

“W- what?” Caracalla looked between the two of you. Geta tended to his women, and you went back to sipping on your wine. He bitterly bit his lip; he knew what he saw! Yet another one of his Courtesans preferred Geta over him! Why were they so attracted to him? Why *weren’t* they attracted to him instead?! “Go put more wood in the fire.” Caracalla nudged your shoulder.

“That is alright.” Geta said to his brother, instead, calling over a guard. Caracalla snarled.

“No…it is fine. I will do it, my emperor.” Caracalla, although rather twitchy from being agitated, was pleasantly surprised when you stood from the piles of pillows and warm sheets. Your nude body caught the eyes of everyone who had them before you wrapped a shawl around your hips.

Maybe it was because of his greed, but as you bent over the fire, keeping your hair from it as you added wood, Geta knew he wanted you. Not in an idealistic manner but a firm, rock-hard need. This craving would not be satisfied until Caracalla left you alone.

From there, you kneeled by the Shisha pipe. Geta watched, his elbows on his knees as you inhaled before blowing smoke from your open mouth. Lost in your gaze, hair and curvy body, he began to sweat. It was uncomfortable. Maybe it was because you made him feel so small, so pathetic sometimes. He wondered if the wine gesture was even enough to get you to stand near him. Not unlike a schoolboy approaching his crush, he pulled at his collar and tried again.

When you sat beside his brother, he sent over a box of imported sweets. He tried to distract himself, but it was impossible. “Oh, my. Thank you, Caracalla.” You hugged the emperor.

“W-watch out for Dundas please…” He tiled his head for a moment, wondering why you were thanking him. The sweets. “O-oh, yes…uhm, you are welcome.”  Whenever he muttered, you knew he was lying but you did not address it, instead; you chose to pet the monkey on her arm.

Geta rolled his eyes and sighed. Caracalla was not even attracted to you! Not like he should be. Every time, Caracalla chose the most gorgeous women just to lie in bed beside!

“What is the matter?” One of Geta’s Courtesans asked, rubbing his thigh.

“Get off of me!” He grumbled, leaving the room.

“He- hehe, Brother is mad. You made him angry.” He pointed an accusing finger to the Courtesan. “He will have your head, haha!” The woman trembled, looking away from Caracalla. “Oh, I am only joking! Do people not tell jokes anymore?! Hahaha!”

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

Eddie fanfic is nearly done. Might post it today! <3 Love you!

[ttjisung]

PRIVACY na jaemin

in which jaemin's one of your closest friends. what the rest of your friends don't know is that the two of you have been fucking in their houses every time you hung out.

fwb!na jaemin x afab!reader ( x slight haechan near the end) wc: 1k

cw: nsfw + mdni, smut, voyeurism, fwb kind of but there's romantic kissing that's too intimate to be justified so maybe not, fingering, dry humping, riding (with clothes on), oral fixation (imo he'd be a boob guy sorry), cum eating? kind of..., getting CAUGHT, haechan is a freak but what's new, possibly part one because i want to continue the ending >:3

Had it not been for the strong grip Jaemin had on your face, covering your mouth with his bigger hand, you’re sure you would’ve been kicked out of Donghyeok’s house, maybe even out of your friend group – that would be considered a light consequence by you, if anything.

You’re not sure when your relationship changed with Jaemin. Having shared several mutual friends for years, it was only natural that the two of you would bond. What your group didn’t expect, though, was for you two to connect so deeply. Shy waves turned into long embraces, and before you knew it, you were in his bed wearing nothing but a long T-shirt of his and a pair of boxers - this part was unknown to your friends, who just assumed you were weirdly close best friends and nothing more. Donghyeok was the only one who’d sometimes theorize over your touchy friendship, yet no one would pay him any attention, being known as the most dramatic male in the group.

The idea was Jaemin’s – he suggested it’d be fun to try something new sexually, yet you were quick to shut him down, imagining something much more vulgar. When he mentioned voyeurism behind walls, explaining how it was only for the thrill and he would never genuinely want someone to watch unless you wanted it too, gears shifted in your head and you hesitantly agreed. That was two weeks ago, and since then, Jaemin had jumped on you in the ‘privacy’ of your other friends’ bathrooms five times already. It almost felt as though it was a challenge to the male, who you noticed would become increasingly antsy, closest to cumming when you would hear the familiar thump of someone’s footsteps passing down the hallway. 

That’s what landed you in your peculiar predicament, straddling Jaemin’s lap with a hand of his over your mouth as his other arm guided you onto him in slow motions, dragging your clothed clit on his growing bulge. You were in the main bedroom, pulled onto the male who sat in what was known humorously as Donghyeok’s ‘Cuck Chair’ among your friends – simply a soft one-seater that faced the bed. 

It was hard to muffle the loud noises Jaemin forced out of you, writhing in pleasure as you finally felt his fingers slide over your clothed core. His middle finger rolled gentle circles onto your clit as his other hand moved down from your mouth, and towards the strap of your tank top. One of your arms was wrapped around his neck, grasping his hair for support as the other replaced Jaemin’s, hiding your own embarrassingly loud moans.

Your smaller fingers weren’t enough to cover the gasp that escaped you as he pulled down the strap, dragging the rest of the material with it until your boobs were in view. He let out a loud groan at the sight, making you pull his hair as a warning to shut up, yet the action only made his volume increase. 

Leaning in to take your nipple into his mouth, his hand that had slipped under your skirt stopped with the circling motion, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Your whines were cut off quickly though, as he pulled your panties to the side, hooking them open wide enough to slip his hand under. Finally feeling two of his long fingers slowly pushing inside you, your grip on his hair grew, and you had to fight every atom in your body to keep your hand over your mouth. 

Jaemin’s movements quickened, stretching you out on his fingers, and curling them to reach deeper into your walls. “Feel so good around me, baby. You wanna cum?” He whispered, pulling away from your chest for a second before diving back in. When you nodded in response, he moaned against you, leaving sloppy open kisses all over your chest. You kept rocking against him, eager to feel him further inside of you, which caused you to grind against his still clothed dick. The combined stimulation of his mouth on your tits and his fingers inside of you made your stomach turn and a pit form, his palm now pushing against your clit which made you bite down harder onto your own hand. 

The motions repeated until the pit collapsed, and you rode out your high on top of Jaemin, who was close behind. Continuing his actions until you whispered in his ear, begging to give you a break, he took his fingers out of you, unlatching from your chest to guide them in his mouth and suck the fluids off. 

The sight of Jaemin so desperately getting off on your taste made you blush, and you leaned in, giving him a way-too-intimate kiss that was almost shy, yet had him reciprocating almost immediately. The hand he licked clean moved behind your neck, holding your head close to his as he pried your mouth open with his tongue - you could taste yourself on him. A whimper came out of his mouth at the mix of your spit and his, and he could tell he was cumming soon. 

Just as the kiss got more passionate, pushing him closer to his climax, the door bursted open, revealing an angry yet prideful looking Donghyeok who immediately jumped into his bedroom, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! In my room though? Really?” 

You had expected Jaemin to push you off. Truly you wouldn’t be shocked if he threw you across the room and claimed he had nothing to do with it, yet the male shocked both you and Donghyeok as he continued his actions, taking his eyes off his angry friend and looking at you, placing both hands on your hips and continuing to grind your body against his. “Wait, Jaemin-” Before you knew it, his mouth was open, releasing a loud moan as you felt the fabric of his pants turn damp. 

You were mortified, to say the least. Jaemin had just done that in front of your friend, who was already seemingly and rightfully pissed off at the fact that you were in his room. What neither of you expected was for Dongyeok to simply whine like a child, slamming his door and moving closer. “Seriously, you were doing this in my house and never thought to invite me?” 

a/n: this is the first smut fic i've posted on this blog and i'm nervie... lmk if you guys liked it and ill blush and write a part two with both haechan & jaemin ^_^

[heartfullofleeches]

Maus and LoverBoy

Yan Artist + G.N Reader

-

"Hey."

It's dark. He hated the darkness. A callous, unpredictable foe; stealing the sight from his eyes when least expected. Sealed within the four walls of the room where he lay his head, of which there is no discernible difference between the average adolescent's bedroom and the grave, a greater enemy lurks beyond the eye to the outside world.

"Hey!"

A small stone no bigger than the petrified mouse's crumpled fist knocks not once, but twice against the window panel. A shadow looms over his bed, yet he dare not remove the covers wrapped tightly around his head - a truce between him and his longest adversary for their shared hatred of the celestial body sharing her light with the slumbering world.

"I can tell you're awake. I can see you trembling from here. Open the window, I have a surprise for you."

"Run..."

A tiny voice squeaks - like a tiny rodent in fear for its life.

"If you're outside for too long she'll catch you. If I open the window to let you in, she'll get me."

The shadow howls in laughter; the rock in their mitts cascaded to the winds as they clutch their stomach ready to burst from the sting of their giggles.

"Who?? Do you mean.... her?"

The little mouse doesn't have to look to know where the shadow points next. Nor the courage.

"....yes."

The moon. She had tried to take him once. Her gorgeous light reflecting on the water's edge. Her beauty was a trick. A ruse to drag him into the ocean's depths - never to be seen again.

"It's a good thing I showed up when I did. My big surprise will help you get over your fear. Tonight, I will show you how to fall in love."

Love?

"But with who?"

"Everything." A blissfully sigh falls from the shadows lips, hands nestled gingerly over their heart. "The evening air. That busted street lamp at the end of the road. Her. It isn't as much of a matter as who, but as what. By the time morning rises, I'll show you everything there is to love about the night. And in due time, I'll teach you to love the day too."

At long last, the mouse cautiously pulls his head from beneath his blanket. The first air he takes his crisp and fresh, like a glass of cool water after stewing in his own sweat attempting to fall back asleep after a nightmare. The light from his window isn't as harsh as he remembers; a stagnant shadow shielding him from the moon's rays.

As the moonlight reveals the shadow's face, its as if he's opened his eyes for the first time.

"Who.... Who are you?"

"My name is Loverboy, but as your new best friend- you can just call me your Lover."

.....

.....

....

"So.... What did you think?"

Silent eyes scan over each image as a hand switches back and forth between pages, brows scrunched in concentration. Piece upon piece depicting a vibrant haired boy wearing mouse next to a figure with heart shaped eyes.

"I... loved it!"

The sandbags weighing your dear friend to his seat roll effortless off his shoulders. He corrects the crook in his spine against the back of your couch, pink dusting his ghostly pale cheeks as he leans onto your arm.

"I'm glad you liked it... I've been debating if Maus and Loverboy should speak in the comics I make with them included, but this one wouldn't have many much sense if they didn't... Maybe Lover speaks for Maus instead.... He can't really do much without them anyway.."

"Question?"

Here it comes... "Yes?"

"The R in Loverboy's name.... The way you write their name makes it kinda look like an A sometimes. Like, Love-a-boy.. Does that mean anything or is it just an artist thing?"

"Haha...... It's just a me thing, actually."

[balrogballs]

The Knotted String

A @whiteoliphaunt gift for @herenortherenearnorfar - featuring Annatar/Celebrimbor, material cultures, closed practices based on Zoroastrianism, not-knowing, and the final days of Eregion. Happy New Year! And thank you so much to @minubell for running this.

The stairs take longer tonight. The stars are mostly hidden, too far to touch. The wind has picked up, and it sends a chill through his wet hair down to the waist. A fever is the last thing Celebrimbor can afford, but one seems inevitable with the way his muscles ache. Celebrimbor does enjoy aches and pains, normally, laurels for his craft. And if he’s being honest, he enjoys them in the gleeful way the Eldar tend to enjoy looking decrepitude in the eye and denying it, point-blank. Still, the stairs take longer.

“What is that?” he is freshly bathed and half-clad when Annatar walks in; tunic strewn on the bed, leggings loose around his waist. “That string.”

Celebrimbor has a circular piece of thick white twine twirled around his fingers, five large knots equally spaced along the string like knucklebones.

“Just a ritual,” he shrugs, as he does each time.

There’s no ritual that really surprises Annatar these days; he has tried most of them, from the first song to whatever they do these days in Lindon. Still, the way the twine wraps around the callouses compels him in a way that does truly surprise him. There’s a strange peace to Celebrimbor here that he has only seen when smithing or fucking, when he’s coiled tight. Usually molten, red-hot purpose rolls off of his shoulders in such thick waves that sometimes Annatar is surprised the elf can ever stand still at all. Fragile, he realises. Celebrimbor only looks like this when he’s holding something he perceives as fragile. Like a mithril-thin ring, or him.

The smith turns from him, begins the evening ritual. The cord unwinds like a hymn, pale and coarse, gleaming faintly with the memory of the fire which blessed it. He loops it around his waist, each turn a tether, lips moving soundlessly. The movements repeat, five times, one for each knucklebone. With the fifth, he passes the cord over his head, bends, brushes the floor with his fingers.

“A prayer, then?” whispers Annatar, when he is done, eyes blown wide, curious. “I have never seen prayer like this.”

“Fëanorian nonsense,” says the smith, his words so soft over the nonsense that it means the opposite, yet so casual with the Fëanorian as to be a deliberate shutting-out. A deliberate shutting out of Annatar.

They look at each other for a long moment, and each second Celebrimbor doesn’t tell him feels like a thin wire pressed into Annatar’s skin. A slit of moonlight peeks through the slats of the balcony, neatly slicing Annatar in two, from a divine thing into two small, envious little poltergeists. Celebrimbor’s jaw clenches.

“You cannot just know everything about my life before you and aside from you,” Celebrimbor says, shrugging. The air has a cold, rusty taste to it all of a sudden, Annatar thinks. “You know that, don’t you? You know me, you know all of me as relates to you. But the things about my life that you do know, I chose to tell you. This knowledge is not yours.”

“It was you who offered yourself to me,” there is a little petulance to the downturn of his lips. Celebrimbor savours it: it’s like smithing, sculpting, casting, his penchant for finding the gremlin within every god. He is Fëanor’s grandson through and through, he supposes, with another smirk that has Annatar’s cheeks flushing with rage at being excluded from.

“Yes. I offer what I offer,” Celebrimbor tucks the knotted string away into some sort of slight-of-hand Annatar cannot follow. Celebrimbor presses a kiss to his lips, like a consolation prize.

Annatar spends months trying to follow the string. Asks him about it, flushed and glistening from pleasure, asks him every day, asks him at last, in the final moments. The last few days, when each knows what the other is and will become, and tries so hard to forget it for just a little longer. He tries too, to follow it in other ways. In books, in whispers, asks around about the cultural practices of the Fëanorians. The way they lay their dead on tall, silent towers for carrion birds to peck at. The fiery, smoky incense they burn for their prayers to Iluvatar. And still, the knotted string remains just that. A thing that might die with Celebrimbor.

“You will not die!” Annatar roars, at the close of it all. He rounds on Celebrimbor like a warg, suddenly close, suddenly burning, wild-eyed, beautiful and furious. A finger held out in front of him as if to force the world into submission, to force Celebrimbor into living for him instead of dying despite him. “I will not lose you — it is out of the question. How dare you ask me — as if you had the right — as if you have the right to ask me to kill you, after you offered me your life — I refuse it! That is within my power, and I will exercise that power as I see fit. As I see fit — not you. You will not die.”

“I offered my life?” Celebrimbor laughs, even now. Somehow it is him who remains calm, not a single molten thing left within him. He shakes his head. “I offered what I offered. And it is not everything. It is not my life. You know that as well as I, that it is not everything, no?”

His waist is exposed, the knotted string looser than it has ever been. Annatar steps forward. Celebrimbor can feel his glowing eyes, heavy on him, like two more swords pinning him to the earth. He can smell his own sweat, the leather of Annatar’s gauntlets, the woodsmoke of Eregion. He smells like what his home was, what it has become now, the beautiful, furious monster it has shifted into. Annatar cannot look at Celebrimbor or he’ll lose control. He’ll claw at his face, kiss him, plunge his last knife between his ribs. Or worse – yes, worse – he’ll cry, soften, he’ll say let us leave. Yes, yes, anything. Yes. Don’t tell me. I don’t need to know. It’s all right. Let us leave, you and I.

Lesser beings allow themselves to be blinded by things. Anger or love or fury or shame. Higher beings are blind with things, chasing mindlessly, embracing unidirectional tunnel-vision. Annatar, personally, is blind with want. He wants Celebrimbor’s balcony, so open and bright and full of the two of them, full of nothing, the broad shoulders turned away from him. Celebrimbor doing his secret thing with the string, locking him out. The way he allows it, despite wanting to know. The way he is blinded by him.

The way Annatar waits patiently outside as he had never done before. The way he counted the seconds while the city walls shrunk little by little, the air thicker, more and more putrid every second, the door left unlocked, escape always possible, leaving Celebrimbor and the rings and the world and declaring himself. Annatar would have the whole world before him, but where would he go? Where else but here? Who else but him?

It is another week before Lord Sauron leaves the burnt-black city of Eregion, a sweat-stained, knotted string curled in his pocket like a sick, sleeping mongrel. He will never know what it was. But he knows what it is now. It is a kiss — a consolation prize, offered up on a balcony, the stars too high up to know that the two of them were standing there that evening, too high up to remember they ever stood there at all.

[tmasc-confessions]

I'm sorry, this will be long. TW for SA and bullying.

As a transman I'm kind of sickened by the widely accepted attitude that transwomen/fems and cis women can do no harm and are subjugated by masc trans people. That femininity and anyone who identifies with it is a harmless victim. That misogyny (and transphobia) affect them only. It's genuinely revolting how much gender essentialist TERF shit has seeped into the community at large, and how uncritically people are willing to accept it.

As a transman I have been:

Raped at 15 by an adult cis women who had predatorially integrated herself into our teenage friend group.

Bullied relentlessly by a cis woman and our (once joint) friend group to the point of having to switch schools.

Bullied for YEARS behind my back by two separate transwomen, one who took the side of bully mentioned in the pervious bullet point. She played both sides and also constantly questioned my queerness, insisting I was faking it. I'll never forget the words "are you even gay or just a woman?" that were spoken to me, as a bisexual transman, by another queer/trans person I considered my best friend.

The second trans woman who bullied me for years also consistently went behind my back to talk shit about me to our entire friend group while I spent every weekend driving upwards of 8 hours to see her and paying for all of her expenses when we were together. She also constantly tried to feminize me (which got worse after she came out) asking to do my makeup or pointing out feminine clothes I should wear after I'd already said no and telling me I looked like female celebrities she had crushes on. She also took half naked pictures of my partner and I asleep and sent them to our GC as a "joke" when we were all under 18. Finally, after borderline stalking me all weekend at a convention this summer (we hadn't talked for almost 4 years, because in 2020 I found out about how much she'd always bullied me behind my back) she confessed to me that she'd only done all of this because she was so jealous of me.

So yeah, she bullied a transman into isolation from his queer friend group (and lifeline, honestly. I come from a very conservative, evangelical home.) FOR YEARS because she was jealous of the anatomy that I was born with. She even admitted that she knew I was insecure about people talking about me because of the bullying I'd previously faced and because of the rejection and scapegoating I'd faced in my home life, and she used that against me on purpose. She hurt and traumatized me on purpose because she couldn't handle her own jealousy over a transmasc having been born with the anatomy that she wasn't.

These instances of bullying have had long lasting effects on me and will always impact my ability to connect with and trust others. I sometimes still dream about being bullied by these people and I'm almost 26. Being bullied by people who you trusted as friends carries it's own kind of weight.

I have been SA'd by multiple transwomen aswell, not just cis women, but I've always felt like if I talk about it, I'll be victim blamed, invalidated and called a transmisogynist for daring to suggest that transwomen and fems are not exempt from needing to procure and respect consent.

I frequent a lot of irl queer spaces. Yes, I go to the club, to conventions, local meet ups etc. Basically, yes, I do touch grass. In these spaces I have been:

Grabbed and pulled on by the neck (w/o consent) by a trans woman to the point where two of my friends had to step in because she was ignoring me when I asked her to stop and was displaying visibly resistant body language.

Had my pronouns willfully ignored by a lesbian trans woman at the bar over and over again (eventhough I and I my friends corrected her every time) so that she could continue making random sexualizing comments about me (about wanting to pull my hair and choke me) w/o having to reconcile that she was attracted to someone who was not a woman. Me, a transman. My brother even had to ask her to stop making these comments about me directly to him because it was making him uncomfortable too.

I've been pressured into having sex with a trans woman in front of her boyfriend and all her friends while being choked and bitten w/o consent. She tried to make me do it again in front of my roommate on a separate occasion. Not once even asking if I wanted to fuck her or be touched at all in the first place. She just kind of expressed entitlement over my body.

I've had to reassure my other transmasc friend that they weren't being transphobic for feeling violated by a trans woman who started choking them and forcing oral sex on them w/o consent. Both of these instances happened separately to us at the same event.

I've been raped and sexually assaulted and bullied many times in my life, by people belonging to both feminine and masculine genders, cis men, cis women, trans people, and there's this undercurrent of misogyny and transphobia to all of them.

I don't like to get caught up on AGAB, but the second you have an AFAB-appearing body, people start treating you like an object. They express this entitlement towards you and your body that completely disregards your personhood regardless of your protests. Women, trans or cis, still need to ask for consent. Feminine people are still capable of violating your consent. Queer people are still capable of letting their attraction towards you manifest in misogynistic, transphobic ways. 

TRANSMEN STILL FACE AND HAVE FACED MISOGYNY. TRANSPHOBIA ISNT OKAY JUST BECAUSE ITS DIRECTED AT A MASC PERSON. YOUR SEXUAL ASSAULT ISN'T LESS VALID BECAUSE JUST THE PERPETRATOR WAS QUEER OR A WOMAN.

All that said, I still have so many cherished and wonderful expirences with my trans siblings. I value those nights where I've talked until dawn with a circle of random trans people at conventions. I value those moments where I've felt so much kinship with trans -women and -fems. My time spent in those instances of trans community building keep me fucking going.

I know better than anyone that so much of this vitriol towards transmascs really is just terminally online garbage being spewed by channers who hate themselves, but I also know that no one group of people is inherently safe because of the way they identify. Trans women aren't all inherently safe and pure and transmen aren't inherently privileged and they are not traitors.

Some of the kindest things I've heard about transmen, and my own personal presentation, have come from my trans sisters. Some of the most vile things I've heard about transmen have come from my trans brothers.

At the end of the day, I am sometimes scared that these wonderful trans people I meet irl are the same trans people shitting on transmascs online, but the healing nature of being with my trans siblings is more powerful than that.

Everyone and anyone can do harm regardless or gender. Trans people live unique lives that can't be watered down to "TME" or "TMA" or whatever the next discourse designed to divide us might be.

PLEASE, respect your trans siblings and their autonomy. No gender identity makes you incapable of being a fucking bully. No amount of dysphoria excuses abusing each other out of jealousy.

.

[postcrashcurly]

A short list of Jimmy headcanons I've been tinkering with for a bit. CW: OCD and Hoarding Behavior, Trichophagia, Body Image, and a lot of other triggers tbh it's far too long to list just prepare for anything.

One. On earth, Jimmy has a hoarding problem that stems from not having a lot as a kid. His dad was physically abusive and his mom was emotionally absent, so he wasn't allowed any privacy, personal belongings, or comfort objects. So as an adult he keeps EVERYTHING. Every single birthday card, every receipt, boxes, old clothes, certain food wrapping items and empty cans. It's chaos but it's somewhat organized, and piles move around here and there. It's not necessarily *gross* in the traditional sense. There is no rats or roaches or anything like that- its just overwhelming to the outside observer. It has the potential to be much worse depending.

He compulsively reorganizes his belongings but he'll be sent into a blind rage if he feels he's lost something. Piles move back and forth from the living room and bed room. Certain objects of interest are always within eye-shot, specifically things like gifts or photos. He has a particular affinity towards gift-cards and enjoys the elaborate designs (even though he pretends he doesn't).

Jimmy gets incredibly defensive when anyone offers to help him clean up or move things around and worries greatly that someone may steal from him. The only person who's ever seen the inside of his place is Curly, and he's also the only person Jimmy has ever left unattended in his home. Every so often Curly is able to nudge him to pack things in different areas so it isn't such a fire hazard (because of the hoarding, Jimmy has a massive fear of house fires and losing his things), and so he can have better access to rooms.

The only "clean" areas are the kitchen and bathroom, and they are remarkably clean. This is something Curly doesn't understand but doesn't really bother to question because he knows Jimmy needs to have things a certain way.

Two. As a child Jimmy developed really poor coping mechanisms to deal with his home life. He used to eat his own hair, and because of this his parents always had his hair cut as short as possible. This is why he keeps it long as an adult, and even though he doesn't eat/swallow it anymore he likes to suck and bite on the ends sometimes when he's self-soothing.

Three. Jimmy struggles with his body image and isn't quite sure what he looks like. If you asked him to draw a picture of himself, it wouldn't resemble him well. He feels that he looks much smaller, weaker, and uglier than he really is, for which he overcompensates. This also means he is a lot rougher when making physical contact with people.

It is also why a lot of his clothes are ill fitting.

Four. Jimmy loved cats when he was younger. When he was a kid he used sneak around his parents to feed them dinner leftovers. He was particularly close with a little tabby that cried at his bedroom window every night and he'd always sneak out to pet her. His father grew sick of the strays hanging around the property and put out poisoned food, which unfortunately took out his tabby. To this day, he blames himself for making the cats comfortable enough to take food from his house.

Five. Jimmy has experimented with many drugs and had mostly positive experiences with them. He's particularly fond of Kratom.

Six. Jimmy doesn't try to understand people, he only learns what they expect of him and changes his approach depending on the person. Everyone is so vastly different that he struggles to keep up appearances with most people, so he often latches onto one person (Curly) and puts most of his energy into that.

Seven. Jimmy is the type to give up a hobby if he isn't good at it right off the bat.

Eight. Jimmy can't swim, he doesn't want to swim, and you cannot make him swim. It stems from having a fear of water, specifically fully submerging his head/face.

Nine. Jimmy has food sensory issues. Sometimes he even needs to spit out things he likes because his body refuses to swallow it. To avoid this in public spaces, he takes very small bites and eats very slowly. He orders comfort meals and if he wants to try something new, he'll just pick of the plate of who he's with.

Ten. Jimmy is a Red Bull guy, specifically the Coconut Berry one. This is very oddly specific but it just feels right to me.

Y'all should send me asks with some of your Jimmy headcanons (if you want) because I love to hear other peoples opinions and perceptions of his character, especially if you don't agree with mine I'd love to hear why!