#it was a struggle to get his nose to work

[blxksun]

18+, minors and ageless blogs dni

camboy!lee know who didn't even start out (or think of doing it) because of his own thoughts. getting thirsty comments in his cat caretaking videos. comments about how hot he was, that jaw, those eyes, weird comments about sitting on his nose, how big his arms were, his thighs, those veins, those hands. and then one from a "mrknowskittycat: please tell me you have a link, please tell me you have a link, please tell me you have a link" and one day being affected by them.

camboy!lee know who does it because he finds desperation funny, not his, (even though the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants reeks of desperation), but the viewers. they'd been still waiting to get him out of his clothes.

camboy!lee know who doesn't even have a schedule for when he goes live, because he knows people will show up anyway. and quickly too. especially since the title is, "playing today".

camboy!lee know who, even now, still finds it funny. he doesn't even do anything on the livestream. he just sits there in a t-shirt that has the sleeves cut off and the light gray sweats. of course he's freeballing, it's comfortable, not because the comments that are thirsting are amusing. definitely not.

camboy!lee know who has a light smirk on his face as he reads the comments that are particularly needy. "is the print not enough?, you just have to see it don't you?", "if you want me to play so bad, play with yourself first, tell me about it, i might get fomo", "i don't punish my kittens, i just don't give them treats, who knows maybe i'll cave, give you one"

camboy!lee know who moves slightly in a stretch and lets out a groan. laughing when ping! ping! ping! ping! comes in. "you guys gift for a stretch, how kind, still doesn't convince me you want me to play". tone condecending, smirk still tight on his lips, and a tiny breathy laugh accompanying it.

camboy!lee know whose breath catches when he sees a familiar name in the chat. "onlymrknowknows": i just joined, because i was watching your old streams. i was so pent up from all your teasing that since seeing you my hand has been in my pants. i just got paid so i'll tell you all about it <3". finally, just who he was waiting for.

camboy!lee know who tells the other viewers to tell 'onlymrknowknows', thank you and that they should take notes on how to get what they want out of him. moving his hips up to slowly shimmy his sweats down to mid-thigh. hard cock, almost as veiny as the rest of him, clear essence shining at the tip, springing up as it was finally free.

camboy!lee know who stroked his cock with vigor, as the detailed report of viewer masturbation came through on his screen. front teeth the only thing showing as he moaned. struggling to keep his eyes open to read because 1. the image in his head is going crazy right now and 2. he needs to know when they cum. he really wants it to be at the same time. his tough and nonchalant facade completely disregarded, because he teased himself by teasing the viewers, everything felt way too good right now, his thumb rubbing just right on his tip. and he whimpers. the tough guy whimpers, and then breathily whispers out "f-fuck, look, you got shit-what you wanted, please, i need you to cum with me, please, please, fuckkkk please ah- oh god!" and it's so whiney.

camboy!lee know who doesn't even get to see the last message come through, because it hit him. eyes screwed shut and hips practically levitating out of the chair. he cums pathetically, shooting up onto his tee, some landing on his thigh. and the nerve of him to come down, face flushed, open mouth panting, teasing eyes and smirk becoming ever present. "okay , i played, bye". leaning up, ending the stream immediately, leaving viewers wondering when he'd be back next.

blxksun2025 do not copy or translate my works. happy reading !

a/n definitely making one for the other two, might do a poll for that one as well. this is a work of pure fiction, nothing in this work is a true reflection of the real person this fanfiction is based around. vote for the next one here

[everrinsly]

a/n; i'm sorry I've been so busy but here's something cute, it's a little long i think haha, but i hope you like! for all your girl dad boys who can't do hair, thank you for reading!! i am also working on the olympic momager series! i promise

bow ties with bunny ears and octopus arms. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

when your niece wants him to tie her hair like yours before her back-to-school shopping trip... but he can't seem to get it right.

♡ For all your favorites, who have trouble with girl hair.

more of your favorite boys!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐ᯓ⚽⋆⭒˚.⋆🌌

The morning light is golden and filters through the soft hum of weekend life. It’s the kind of day that smells like laundry detergent and fabric softener with the windows cracked open just enough to let in a warm breeze and the distant sound of kids riding bikes down the street.

You’ve been puttering around the apartment, keeping busy while you wait—packing snacks, refilling water bottles, scrutinizing items on your niece’s back-to-school shopping list because why does she need four pairs of plastic scissors? 

You don’t hear much coming from your bedroom, only the occasional creak of the floor and the soft snap of a hairbrush being dropped again. And again.

You sigh and stretch your arms above your head, peeking down the hallway just as—

The bedroom door is slightly ajar, and the sound of your niece’s voice spills out in a frustrated whine.

“Noooo, not like that! You’re tying it like a shoelace!”

There’s a pause, then his flat voice, that same bone-dry tone he always uses when he’s pretending he’s not actually trying. “Princess, it is a shoelace. Just pink.”

Your niece lets out a small gasp. “It’s not!”

She turns around to face him with the most appalled expression a five-year-old can muster. “It’s a ribbon! For pretty hair! You can’t put it in your sneakers!”

He blinks down at her, utterly unmoved. “I could. If I wanted to.”

She gasps again, mouth wide, hands flying to her cheeks. “No! You’d ruin it!”

“Nah. I think I’d look cute.”

“No. You’d look weird.”

That finally earns a low, amused breath from him—barely a laugh, more of a nose exhale. 

“I just want it like Auntie’s!” she points, tiny arms gesturing wildly. “Hers is floaty. Yours is droopy.”

“Droopy is the new floaty.”

“You’re not even trying!”

“I’m trying enough.”

“Try more!”

You stifle a laugh and peek inside.

And instantly, your heart softens.

He sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread comfortably, your niece standing between them—pouty and impatient in her baby blue dress, the one he bought her for her birthday last year, now a little shorter but still her favorite because “Uncle picked it out.” 

He’s already brushed her hair out, surprisingly neat for his usual half-effort approach, and gathered the top half into a small ponytail with a clear elastic. He clumsily wrangles one of your pink ribbons around the elastic, long fingers trying to loop and tug it into something that resembles a proper tie. It slips once, twice, and he sighs deeply like he’s been low-key (high-key) struggling for the last ten minutes.

Your niece huffs dramatically, tapping her foot against the floor as if that might speed him up. “It’s not that hard,” she mumbles, clearly one breath away from snatching it and doing it herself.

“Then you do it,” he says flatly as he tries again. “I’ll sit on the bed and complain instead.”

She crosses her arms. “You’re the grown-up.”

“Debatable.”

He finally gets the ribbon looped and tugs it tight, fingers pausing as he examines the result with a painfully neutral expression.

And the bow is… well, it’s a bow. Technically. It exists. 

But one loop is way too big and the ends hang uneven, the knot looking suspiciously loose, like it might unravel if she so much as breathes wrong.

Your niece tilts her head, first to the left, then to the right, just feeling the weight of it. “It… it feels lopsided.”

“You’re lopsided.”

“Am not!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he mutters, pulling gently at one end to fix it, which somehow only makes it worse.

She groans, stomping her socked foot gently against the floor. “It’s supposed to look pretty! Like Auntie’s!”

“She’s got more hair,” he replies lazily. “More hair means better bow structure.”

“No,” she insists, turning to squint at him accusingly. “That’s not it.”

He raises a brow. “It’s definitely it.”

She shakes her head. “Mama does bunny ears. Auntie does bunny ears. You’re not doing bunny ears. That’s why it’s lopsided!”

“I don’t speak rabbit.”

“Everyone speaks rabbit! You make two loops, like bunny ears, and then you cross them and pull!”

He stares blankly at her. “So, a shoelace. I was right.”

“It’s not! It’s a technique!” she says, hands flailing for emphasis.

His face doesn’t change, but the corner of his mouth twitches just a little. “Pretty sure I do this technique better than Mama and Auntie.”

“You don’t,” she deadpans. “Because you’re doing… like… octopus arms.”

“Octopus—? Well, aren’t you harsh on me today, huh, princess?”

He says it lightly, teasing, expecting her to puff up and giggle, maybe roll her eyes and call him weird again. But instead, she goes quiet.

Too quiet.

She’s still, fidgeting with the hem of her dress now, and when she turns to glance back at him, there’s a tight pull to her mouth. Her shoulders curve in, just barely, like she’s trying not to show it; but he sees it, the shine in her eyes before she turns and blinks it away.

She's not crying, but the tears are there, glassing over her lashes. Her lips are wobbly, and the pout on her face is trembling, real and honest—the kind of disappointment that doesn’t need words.

His heart drops clean out of his chest.

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice lower now, softer. “Baby.”

She sniffles once. “It’s not the same,” she mumbles. “It doesn’t look like Auntie’s. And I want it to be the same.”

He blinks slowly, watching as she tilts her head all the way back to look up at him upside-down, bottom lip jutting out.

And something in him just… breaks.

He’s quiet for a moment, then shifts his hands to cradle her tiny face gently in both palms. His fingers dwarf her cheeks, but they’re soft, so soft, and her pout falters a little under the weight of his steady gaze.

“Don’t cry, princess.”

“I’m not,” she whispers back, but her lip trembles, betraying her.

He leans in a little closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You're the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Bow or no bow. Got it?”

She nods, barely.

“And for the record…” he adds, brushing some of her bangs back, “I think yours looks better. Way better.”

“Really?” she asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Really, baby.”

She finally smiles, cheeks pink, and lets out a small, breathy giggle. “Because you tied it?”

He leans down and presses another kiss to the center of her forehead, lingering there for a second longer, his lips warm against her skin. “Yeah. Obviously.”

“But,” he adds, like it’s no big deal, “if you really want it fixed, I guess I can go get Auntie. She’s probably out there laughing at me right now.”

She shakes her head fast, clutching the hem of her dress with both hands. “No, it’s okay!”

“You sure?” he teases, already reaching for his phone. “She’s right outside, probably waiting to rescue you.”

But she stomps her socked foot again and spins on her heel, throwing her arms up around his neck. “Nooo, it’s okay because you did it!”

He goes still for half a beat, then his arms wrap around her, like muscle memory, like instinct, pulling her effortlessly into his lap. She fits there so easily, tucking her head beneath his chin.

And then, he smothers her in kisses: sloppy, noisy ones to both cheeks, one after the other, with exaggerated “mwah” sounds that have her giggling so hard she nearly topples out of his arms.

“That tickles!”

“Can’t hear you, sorry, I’m too busy kissing the cutest girl in the universe,” he says, punctuating each word with another kiss to her temple, her jaw, her cheek. “Most patient. Most stylish. Most perfect.”

You finally step in from the doorway, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt, heart practically swelling out of your chest. He glances up as you approach, one arm still wrapped securely around her tiny waist. 

Your niece turns in his lap the second she hears your footsteps, her whole face lighting up. “Hi, Auntie!” she chirps, arms reaching out, fingers wiggling in grabby little waves.

You melt instantly.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you coo, walking over and taking her outstretched hands in yours. He shifts slightly to make room, and you settle beside him on the edge of the bed, your knee bumping his.

She immediately leans into your side, wiggling close, cheeks flushed from all the attention. You reach up to touch the ribbon he tied in her hair. “This turned out so cute,” you say, smiling down at her.

“Because he did it,” she replies proudly, beaming like she won something.

You glance at him, then back at her. “Well then… think you could help me fix mine? I want it to look exactly like yours.”

Her gasp is dramatic, tiny hands flying to her chest. “Really?!”

“Really, sweets,” you nod.

She nearly wriggles out of his lap in her excitement, scrambling onto the bed behind you, carefully gathering your hair with her small fingers. You sit still, a little hunched forward to give her room to work, while her little hands tug and fluff and pat like a tiny hairstylist on a mission.

You feel the bed shift slightly beside you, and then he leans in, his hand brushing lightly against your arm before he presses the softest kiss to your cheek—barely there, but somehow it settles straight into your chest.

You blink, surprised, then glance sideways to see him way too smug for someone who’s supposedly indifferent.

“You know,” he murmurs, “you could’ve asked me. I tied her bow.”

You raise a brow, grinning. “Mm, yeah. I saw that.”

“And?”

“And…” you hum, turning slightly so he can see your smirk, “I think not.”

He gives you a slow blink. “Wow.”

“You’re talented,” you tease, “but I wanted bunny ears instead of octopus arms.”

From behind you, your niece squeals. “Seeee?!” she cries, dramatically throwing her hands in the air. “Even Auntie says you did octopus arms! And she didn’t even watch you!”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh, peeking over your shoulder at her. 

“I felt it, Auntie,” she says, completely serious, tiny fingers still fussing with the loops of your bow. “He twisted it all weird, like… squiggly. Like an octopus with too many jobs.”

You giggle. “I know, baby. Can’t do bunny ears for life, can he?”

“Nope.”

He stares between the two of you, blank-faced.

“A whole room full of betrayal today,” he says flatly, leaning back on his hands. “Can’t believe my girls.”

You huff a quiet laugh, nudging your knee against his. “Yeah, well…” you murmur, voice gentler now, “your girls still love you.”

His eyes flick to you, and that soft pull at the corners of his mouth returns—a smirk this time. You can see it. The way that one line breaks through his composure. The way you always get to him, even when he pretends otherwise.

He turns toward your niece, who’s still behind you, carefully adjusting your bow like it’s a crown. His hand finds her back again, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of her dress.

“Do you, baby?” he asks, low and teasing, but there’s something tender underneath it, something real.

She grins, flashing all her little teeth. “I do!”

[lostintransist]

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 8

-.. . … .. —. -. . -.. / - —- / -.. .. .

Part 1 found here | AO3

CW: 18+ MDNI, sexual interactions

Panting, chest crunching on panic, you roll over in your bed.

No coherent thoughts can be found, only the need scorching through you. Maybe you could work through this alone? Your hands tremble as you struggle with the buttons of your sleep shirt. They slip and shift in your grasp. A pained cry escapes from you as your body clenches in need.

“Shh. Shh,” you hush yourself.

The light knock at your door sends the tears rushing to your eyes.

“Sprinkles? You okay in there?”

Johnny’s voice, deep and accented, sends your eyes rolling back in your head.

The beta portion of you had never used your voice before; it did now. You work your fingers still toward removing your shirt.

“Help,” the rasp was one you had never heard before come from your mouth. “Johnny, help.”

He burst through the door then. The gasp he sucks in ratchets your temperature higher—it shifted into a groan as he appeared in your view. Pupils blown wide and chest heaving as he pulled in deeper and deeper breaths.

“Sprinkles, what do you need?” The door creaks under the weight of his hand.

Your voice comes out both as a rasp and as a cry. Neither part of you can formulate words past the other.

“We have an old round of suppressants in the bathroom.” Johnny’s shoulders are caving forward, likely under the weight of his omega, tearing at his throat to enter the room and settle between your legs.

A cry, that at once sounded of ecstasy and extreme pain, rips from you. Wrenching the wretched shirt over your head, you force back your beta to reply.

“I can’t take suppressants.” You’re fully crying now, weeping as your fingers start on removing your pants. “Help me, Johnny. Please help.”

Closing your eyes to focus on removing your pants, and avoiding seeing his face of rejection, in all honesty, you cry harder at the brush of your own fingers. Then he is there. Johnny, with his scent so clear this close to your nose, smelled of salty mists, damp decay, and the bite of something explosive. The coarse hair of his thighs brushes against the inside of yours—your back arches.

“Fuck. Yes. Johnny, just like that, please!” Your hands find him, fingers digging into the muscles around his ribs. “I’m so sorry about this.”

Lips find your neck as he mutters his own apologies.

“Sprinkles, you taste so sweet.” Johnny settled his weight over you, his hard member pressed into the flesh of your hip.

Opening your eyes, you look down and watch as Johnny kisses down from your neck to your nipples, lavishing each with nips.

“Oh! Ye—”

Your pleasure spiked into a panting yelp as one hand slipped to your core. Vision is gone. Hearing is overtaken by a keening volume.

When you blink, you are surprised by a feeling of fullness, and the ease of breathing with Johnny atop you. Confused, you glance around. Still in your room, the scents of sex and slick are heavy in the air, and Johnny’s muttering in your ear. It sounds almost like a prayer.

“Johnny?” You brush a hand against his body, his side from the feel of it.

His head snaps up, ice shard eyes digging hard into yours.

“You back?”

“Did I leave?” Your brows quirk.

The hip thrust he gave sparkled along every nerve ending you have. Gasping, your fingers find purchase in his flesh.

“Obviously not. But your beta stepped to the front of the class and bullied me until we joined, and then I don’t know what the hell happened, but I’m now as stuck as when Simon or Kyle gets a hold of me.” His eyes are categorizing every minute motion and expression as he talks.

“Oh.” Deflating with the word, you slide one hand under his arm to press your fingers into your eyes. When the colors disappear into static under the pressure, you force more words out. “I thought since I could choose a partner now that would stop happening.”

Johnny stiffened, muscles going rigid as his breath sounds disappeared.

A light shaking starts across your body as your teeth dig into your lip.

“If I beg for you to forget what I said, would you?”

A nose pushes into the scent gland at your neck pleasure spikes again.

“No, I wouldn’t. But we can work up to it,” he growled. “Why are you so clear? Simon and Kyle never seem to surface until their rut breaks.”

Humming, you try to decide the right amount of information to share. Lifting the hand from your face, eyes screaming in agony of the release, you settle it on the back of his neck. He shudders as your thumb brushes the small gland behind his ear.

“Do you know how betas came to be?” You shift to trailing your fingers through his hair and across the scalp that prickles with his shorn locks.

Johnny shifts his weight to one elbow, propping himself on it to stare down at you. The light from the window catches his face nicely. He’s fucking beautiful.

“Haven’t betas always been around?” His brow pinched together.

Shaking your head, you launch into an abbreviated history of the oral traditions passed between betas.

“No. The stories passed from parent to child tell us that betas only came into existence about twenty-five hundred years ago. There was some kind of sickness, or war, that decimated the omega population.” Johnny twitched as you ran your nails over the same spot too many times. You shift to tracing lines from his shoulders to his ass, “Archaeological records indicate a war more than a sickness, but there is evidence supporting both, so who knows. Personally, I think a sickness started taking out omegas more heavily, and the war started after there were too few of them to support a population.”

A kiss to your cheek pulled you back from the facts and tales spinning through your mind. Glancing shyly from Johnny’s soft smile and away, you start again.

“Anyway,” dragging the word out feels right for the moment. “Omegas were less and less an option to help through ruts and to create new pups. So alphas turned to other alphas. It makes sense that, given enough exposure, some alphas would be found to have the ability to carry pregnancies to term. Genetics is funny that way. Much as the purists hate to admit, people are not and never have been only one thing—alpha or omega.

That brings us to our first generation of betas. They were heralded as the future, the safety of continuation. For a few generations, they were. And then, like always, someone decided they didn’t like how things were functioning for themselves and damned an entire population to squalor. They didn’t like the steady growth of betas, worried they would outnumber alphas and omegas.”

Neither of you comments on Johnny’s thumb, oh so gently, brushing away the tears as they started.

“Betas were rounded up and murdered. Small groups are how they worked on whittling away lives until they could get governments to deny our rights and strip us of autonomy. It took them nearly a century. Now? Now, only in seventeen countries, betas have full legal status.” Your chest heaves up under him, sucking in air that doesn’t satisfy.

“The laws you mentioned,” he puts the words in order as if they are occurring to him in the moment.

Nodding, you wipe your tears from your face.

“But to answer your question as to why I’m so clear, beta hormones are basically a combination of alpha and omega, but supercharged. We can pair with an alpha or omega as long as they have some parts that will fill the role our anatomy needs. In regard to primary sex organs, we don’t have to worry about me growing pups.”

Johnny shifts over you, resting on his other elbow. His shoulder pops. He nods to you to keep going. Fuck. You wish he would say something, but you are also terrified of what questions he might ask, and you can already feel your knot starting to release. Knowing you would be getting pulled under again made your chest tight.

“Well, part of what seems to scare people is our ability to affect others. You’re an omega, you shouldn’t be able to make a knot.” You rush ahead as his mouth opens to voice his questions, “And you haven’t made a knot, not a true one. What happened, and mind you, this might not be 100% accurate, but from everything I was able to piece together, it seems like betas can force minor changes on their rut/heat partners. Like right now, you are probably experiencing some extra pressure about midway up your penis, right?”

His eyes narrow, but he nods. This time, he keeps his silence, letting you ramble.

“So what I think happened is my hormones triggered some extra growth in you so that my body could lock down on you and ‘knot’. That’s one of the reasons that medical groups helped push so hard to get our rights rescinded. We have ruts and heats, but the knotting lets out, I guess I would call it a dump. The hormone dump leads to clear minds as well as a muscle relaxant and a bunch of other things that I don’t really remember. They would tell us sometimes, in Scorpio, all of the hormones they were able to make now because of us.” A wave of emotion, as wide as tall, sweeps through you, catapulting you into a spinning, mental mess.

The sour smell you associate with your beta rising fills your nose.

No! You scream inside your head. I can’t disappear again!

Snapping your eyes to Johnny, whose puckered brows are shrinking the space between them, you press your lips to his.

“Sprinkles wha—?”

Murmuring against his lips, you focus on the drag of his lips against yours.

“Kiss me, please. The knot is releasing, and I’m going to disappear again.” You’ve never heard your voice so small and scared, even in all the years of evil done against you. There had always been someone to stay strong for. You didn’t warrant that.

He does as you ask—putting his whole self into the act. It keeps up, the heady pressure, until your body relaxes enough and Johnny slips from your body.

When you gasp, pulling away slightly, he pounces with a question.

“Why do you disappear?” His eyes scrape across you like you imagine they do along the makeup of a bomb.

“For…” Your beta speaks through you then, the last thing you remember until you are knotted again, “Safety.”

Johnny has no supplies on hand for your…rut? You called it a rut, so he would, too. He had no fluids within reach, no snacks, and absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with you disappearing and your beta presenting. It wasn’t normal. He had only ever heard of that happening in cases of extreme abuse. Doctors labeled it a self-defense mechanism. Once, and only once, had he seen it in real life.

A mission that started as a ‘take out the target’ turned into a rescue of the hostages when Gaz stumbled into a room that reeked of fear and old urine. Soap and Ghost finished clearing the building, and Price called in Kate for expedited ex-fil with medical on board. Three people, two omegas and an alpha, all emaciated and trembling with fear, had stared at them from the dark corner of the windowless room.

The alpha, a man nearly as tall as Gaz, had snapped and snarled as Ghost entered the room. He had the most medical training. Kyle stepped in when the traumatized alpha had tried to bite his packmate. A single touch, Kyle’s hand on the man’s jaw, and he had settled. The omega woman shifted from behind him, the omega man wrapped in her arms.

“Something in him is broken. He used to be normal, but he kept taking all the hits meant for us. His alpha would come out more and more each time they came. He hasn’t resurfaced.” The scent of her fear ratcheted up the tension in the alpha man.

“Mine,” he growled. “Mine, mine, mine.”

Gaz cooed down at him, pushing his own scent out. They all watched as the man slumped forward onto Kyle’s legs as the smell of fast-moving waters and something nearing eucalyptus settled over them all.

“Might be more dominant than you are, Ghost,” Kyle teased.

Simon grunted once. “Doubt it’s dominance, bet you’re safer smelling than I am though.”

Kyle laughed lightly. Turning to look over his shoulder, he directed Johnny forward to help the omegas out of the room.

“Come with me. We have medical coming and will do our best to get you home safe.” He offered them both a hand up before directing them out the door. The quiet, broken chant of ‘mine, mine, mine’ followed him all the way to the helicopter. Haunted his nightmares if he were honest.

Looking down at you now, the spark of you missing from the shine in your eyes, the memory surfaces. All the tension slides from your body. Fingers begin to explore, and a sultry smile overtakes your lips. You have become sex incarnate. The scent of slick slicing through his nose as it leaks from you, and the chuffs and purrs as you lick up his neck.

“Fuck. What am I to do with you now, Sprinkles?” He whispered the words to the room. Your beta answered.

“Keep us. Love us.” The words were punctuated with bites to his collar bones as periods.

The sadness in his soul swept over his face. Beta caught sight of it and flipped them over in the small bed. She rained kisses down on him. Hands pressed on his chest, beta wiggled hips down his body until they sat on his.

Lifting a hand to your face, Johnny cups your cheek. Beta nuzzles in, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“I don’t think it will be hard to love either of you.”

John stretched his neck as Kyle worked the truck up the path. Winter starting to break always led to mud. He hated mud. The effort to clean it from the tread of his boots and from the hem of his pants always left him annoyed and weary. The unfurling of the greenery didn’t offset the annoyance of the earth trying to swallow him.

The hand he settled high on Kyle’s thigh is his only tether to the moment. It helps.

These thoughts sucked at him as the truck came to rest next to their other one, resting below the deck. They stained his fingers as he grabbed his pack from the bed of the truck and followed Simon up the stairs. What pulled him from the sour scent of dirt and water was laughter—Johnny’s laugh. His bright, loud one. The one John now realizes he hasn’t heard in months. When had Johnny stopped laughing?

Simon, three stairs up and one ahead of him, glanced back over his shoulder before taking them two at a time. John and Kyle’s boots hit the steps in tandem until they were all shouldering through the door. Simon takes point as he and Kyle cover each shoulder, eyes scanning for their missing mate.

A bright and unfamiliar laughter sparked Johnny’s. Your appearance from the hall leading to your bedroom drew all their eyes. You still smell off, broken, but now it is smothered under the smell of Johnny. You tore out toward the living room. Seeing Simon’s glower—the stiff set of his shoulders told John exactly what face he was making at you—caused you to backpedal and trip as your socks lost grip.

John glanced at your feet as they flailed up. Were you wearing his socks?

Johnny appeared. His smiling, as exuberant as the sun, dimming into dusk on the horizon, sliced at John’s heart. Why didn’t his joy extend to them? When had that changed?

“You’re home.” Johnny’s voice, softer than expected, dusted salt in John’s bleeding heart.

A flutter of movement caused John to blink. When his lids parted, he found Simon and Johnny locked in a violent kiss. The bigger man pressed in, hard, nearly stepping on you as you squeaked and scooted out of the way. Your back hit the wall. The small sound flipped something in Johnny. John watched his sergeant and companion omega switch into a soldier.

He bit Simon.

Johnny walked him back, bleeding lip trapped between his teeth.

“Kyle, get the door,” John tracked his men, his lovers, carefully heading for the porch.

“John…” The question is clear in Kyle’s voice, but he does as he is told.

Once the fight is carefully sequestered beyond the reach of their eyes, John steps forward. Settling a boot on either side of your outstretched foot, he squats. Head tipping to the side, he takes in the minor changes since he had seen you last. Seems he should have paid more attention to their wife before he left.

“Now, what to do about you…”

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[atisecnom]

😼 eating hcs ♡

Characters: The Hanks, f!reader

Warning: overstimulation, pussy eating (obvi), praise, squirting, tongue penetration, other stuff I forgot

Summary: Title pretttyyyyyy self explanatory.

A/N: be patient if u request anything pls I'm a one man show I can only write sm 💔

Ok, out of all the Hanks, Hank 4 is the biggest munch out of all of them fssssss

Hank 3 is a close second tho.

Back to Hank 4, yk those videos of kittens eating their milk sludge mixtures and when the owner pulls them away, the kitten is like covered in sludge and struggles to go back to the sludge? Hank 4 is the kitten and the sludge mixture is your pussy. (I rlly rlly hope u get what I'm saying 😭)

He can eat you out for like hourrrrsssss if you let him.

Even when you try to pull him away, he does NOT get off of you.

You could be boreline pulling out his hair from how much you're trying to pull him away, but it takes another Hank or two to pull him away from your pussy. (Have you peeped those muscles?) And even after he gets pulled away, he's all slumping and sad cuz he didn't wanna stop.

The other Hanks have to put on a timer when he has a turn with you.

When he eats you out, his tongue is all over your pussy. He sometimes slips his tongue inside you.

He shakes his head from side to side when his lips wrap around your clit.

AND he hums sm. It sends vibrations to your clit and it feels soooooo good.

Overstimulates you to. The. Max.

His pace won't change before, after, or during your orgasms

His hands stay on your legs, forcing them apart while his lips and tongue do all the work.

He's made you squirt multiple times.

Also made you cry a couple times from overstimulation. When he realized you're crying THEN he pulls away. If you tell him to continue tho he gladly will do so.

...

Now, Hank 3.

While Hank 4 uses his mouth to give pleasure to every single inch of your pussy, Hank 3 focuses on your clit.

He doesn't keep his hands on your legs to keep them open, he has one holding you in place on your waist and another usually inside you.

Hank 3 loooves the feeling of being crushed by your thighs when he hits that sweet spot.

He always has his lips and tongue abusing your clit while his finger (or fingerS) pump inside you, his other hand roaming all over your body.

Just like Hank 4, when you cum, Hank 3 doesn't stop whatever he's doing with you.

He made you squirt once and he never stopped talking and bragging about it for MONTHS.

He loves to eat you out while another Hank is fucking you. (He prefers Hank 1)

Eats you out from behind too

He prefers it actually, to eat you from behind. He just likes ass

When he's eating it from the back, he makes you arch your back and have your legs open, on your hands and knees on the bed.

NOW, he's using his hands to either had his hands on your back, forcing your back to arch, or your thighs, forcing them open.

And yk that bump on his nose does WONDERS.

...

Hank 5 is the most passionate out of all of them.

I'm talking hand holding, sweet talking, kissing your thighs.

BIIIIG on hand holding.

He holds your hands with both of his, your legs on his shoulders, your back arching.

He eats your pussy like he's making out with it.

Mainly uses his lips, not his tongue. (But he DOES use both)

He tilts his head to get better angles too.

Before your orgasm, he's going sensually and slowly, taking his time with you. During your orgasm, he eats you out still but slower, working you through it. After your orgasm, he pulls away and kisses your inner thighs until you've calmed down a little. Then he dives back in.

Usually makes you come 2 or 3 times every night.

Gives you tons of hickeys on your inner thighs.

Never made you squirt before BUT that's not a bad thing. He's just too gentle for that.

He mutters praise against your pussy while he eats you out.

And he knows exactly what to say to get you red in the face too.

He makes sure not to over work or overestimate you. And once you're fully satisfied, he crawls on top of you and kisses you softly.

While the others eat you out, he kisses your neck and lips and everywhere he can reach.

...

Now to Hank 1.

Also a very passionate eater.

He likes tongue fucking you while his thumb rubs your clit.

He moans while he eats your pussy. He gets louder when you moan louder too.

With one hand, he tubs your clit while his other hand squeezes and caresses your hips, stomach and boobs.

Like Hank 3, he likes to eat you out from behind. Though he's more gentle and passionate with his movements.

It's like he's making out with your pussy while Hank 3 is IN IT.

He wants you to ride his face fr. And isn't afraid of asking for it.

It turns him on when another Hank is kissing you while he eats your pussy and you struggle to kiss them back because you're moaning too much.

By the time he's done with you he has your juices and saliva all over his mouth, chin and cheek.

When you get close, he moves up to suck on your clit.

Makes you orgasm at least 2 or 3 times a round.

Before your orgasm, he goes at a medium pace. Not too fast not too slow. During your orgasm, he moves up to suck on your clit. After your orgasm, he slowly drags his tongue all over your pussy until you're not so sensitive anymore. Then asks you if he can continue and if you agree, he dives back in.

...

Hank 2 is the gentlest one.

He just focuses on if you're overstimulated or not. And if you are, he stops.

Eye contact and hand holding while he eats you out.

Likes it when you pull his hair, pushing him closer.

He's a little sloppy when he eats. He doesn't focus on one area, his tongue and lips are touching everywhereeeeee.

Also likes it when you ride his face. He likes when you're in control.

^^^also likes 69

His pace depends on what YOU want. If you want slow, he'll give you slow. If you want fast, he'll give you fast.

Like his pace, the amount of rounds depends on what YOU want. If you want just one or two, he'll give you that.

His pace stays the same before and during your orgasms.

He slows down and sometimes stops after it tho. He gives you a couple seconds to come back and asks you if you want more. If you agree to more, he starts by entering his middle and ring finger into your hole and slowly pumping it inside you. Then after a while, he takes them out and replaces them with his mouth.

While he preps you for his mouth again, he kisses you and praises you a ton.

He likes when you're on your back, your thighs pressed against the mattress, your legs on either side of your torso. His arms lay on your thighs, keeping them open as he eats your pussy. His hands hold yours, his fingers intertwining with his.

Teases you a little before diving in, kissing around your clit and inner thighs.

Doesn't stop for anything once he's in it.

Unless it's like an emergency and you're in danger. THEN, he's pulling away.

...

From roughest to gentlest it's: Hank 4, 3, 5, 1, and 2.

Hank 5 is a FREAK but he's just shy so you don't expect it fr.

Hanks 5 and 3 love eating you out at the same time.

Like imagine this:

You're laying on your bed. Hank 2 is on your left, kissing your head and using one hand to keep your leg open. Hank 4 is on your right, staring down at you and your body, his hand keeping your other leg open. Hanks 5 and 3 are both between your legs. Their tongues are clashing against eachother and against your clit. Hank 5 slowly pumps his middle finger in and out of you. Hank 3 uses his fingers to spread you wider to give him and 5 more room for their tongue to explore.

You throw your head back in pleasure, your fingers tangling in both of their hair. Hank 4 starts kissing and sucking on your neck. Your grip tightens on their hair and they both moan against eachothers mouths.

Hank 4 WOULD join in but homie needs his own space when eating pussy.

Hank 3 loves it tho.

Hank 3 and 5 eat your pussy while Hank 4 is under you, fucking you. Hanks 1 and 2 are by you, you're jerking one off and sucking another one off.

Everytime you guys have sex (lit every night), it starts off with them taking turns eating your pussy.

And they figure out who goes first via either Rock, Paper, Scissors or an arm wrestle.

Love my husbands

[sheerfreesia007]

Beneath the Weight

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 3,796

Content warnings: Fluff, slight angst, arguing, injury

Summary: After pushing himself too hard at the gym to prove his independence, Jeongin ends up injured and reluctantly placed under his girlfriend’s care for a week. Struggling with pride and feeling smothered by everyone’s concern, he lashes out—only to realize too late how much love and sacrifice she’s been quietly giving him all along.

A/N: Divider was created by @strangergraphics, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek, @kaiyaba

@bookswillfindyouaway, @m-325

The clinking of weights hitting each other became the soft background noise to Changbin’s playlist blasting through the gym speakers, the soft grunts of Chan, Changbin and Jeongin himself filled his ears. Today was in the gym with his hyungs working out making sure that they stayed in shape in preparation for their concert coming up. Jeongin blew out a slow breath as he lowered the dumbbells in his hands to his sides, he was starting to feel the familiar ache of his muscles burning with strain that his normal workout usually gave him. Standing from the bench that he was sitting on Jeongin moved to the Lat Pulldown machine, he could feel the bass of the song playing pump through his body giving him a burst of adrenaline and he nodded his head along with the beat. 

Feeling more confident in his weight lifting and pumped up due to his workout already and the music psyching him up he slipped the little metal tab into the weight below what he normally lifted. He figured since he was feeling so good that he should try and push himself on this last workout. He knew he was on the path to being able to lift more and was just going through the schedule like his personal trainer had suggested but he wanted to try and get there sooner.

“Innie, make sure you stay at the weight you’re used to.” Calls out Chan and Jeongin made a disgruntled face at his older friend as he turned his head to look at him. Chan was over by the barbells and was deadlifting way over his normal weight causing irritation and bitterness to rise up within Jeongin. He knew Chan was better at lifting weights than him and had been doing it for far longer than Jeongin had but that was no reason for Chan to baby him once again. Scoffing softly, Jeongin left the metal tab in the weight below what he normally lifted and moved around the machine to sit down on the bench. As he moved to settle back against the bench a shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Changbin standing there in front of him, eyeing him quietly.

“What?” Jeongin bit out and Changbin’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing suspiciously.

“Listen to Chan, Ayenah.” he instructed softly as his eyes darted around the machine before falling back on Jeongin. “You don’t want to overdo it and hurt yourself. Especially right before a concert.” Changbin said knowingly and Jeongin frowned before nodding his head at his older friend. 

“I know, I know.” Jeongin said frustrated while continuing to nod his head at him. “I’m not a kid, stop treating me like one.” Jeongin grumbled out before leaning back against the bench and raising his arms to grab the bar hanging above him. Changbin watched him for a moment before nodding his head once and then walking away. 

He slowly pulled the bar down until it was right in front of his chest before raising it back up to its original position. He grinned widely as he felt his muscles work to lift the weight and easily got in a rhythm, pride worming its way into his chest at being able to lift this amount of weight without much struggle. But soon after ten reps on this weight he began to frown as he felt a soreness start to creep into his muscle, shaking his head Jeongin pushed through another ten reps before raising the weight bar back into its original position. He sat there breathing through his nose harshly feeling sweat trail down the side of his face after exerting more effort into lifting the weight. He stretched out his arms to either side of his body feeling the slight shakiness of the movement and gritted his teeth.

After that he hung out by the dumbbell rack as Chan and Changbin completed their workouts, Jeongin lazily swiped through his phone before a text popped up from you on his screen.

Heartstopper [10:45am]: Hey bub, wanna grab dinner tonight? Gotta make sure I keep you fed. :) Jeongin frowned softly at your text as he continued to breathe heavily after his workout, it was slightly alarming him that he was still breathing like this since it had been a good twenty minutes since he stopped working out and there was a slight twinge in his shoulder that he was being cautious about. But the fact that you felt the need to check up on him and make sure he would be eating later tonight made him feel as if you were babying him just like Chan and Changbin were prone to. Why couldn’t you all understand that he was a grown man who could take care of himself. His mouth twisted in a bitter pout before his fingers were flying across his keyboard to type out a response.

Innie My Heart [10:47am]: Gonna grab dinner with Channiehyung and Changbinhyung. You know you don’t have to take care of me right? He frowned softly as watched the three dots appear shortly after sending his text, he was still feeling stifled, almost smothered by Chan’s and Changbin’s concern and felt a pit form in his stomach wondering if you were going to add onto the feeling.

Heartstopper [10:49am]: Okay babe. Have fun! I know. I like taking care of you though. Let’s you know how much I love you. Text me if you need anything. Love you. Jeongin sat there staring at the text and felt his breath slowly eek out of him as he reread your message, the pit in his stomach quickly eased and he sighed softly. He knew you weren’t trying to baby him but sometimes when the other members did he fell into a funk and would sometimes lash out at you when you took care of him. It was an issue that he was working on himself and he tried to do better for you and you tried to reassure him that you weren’t trying to baby him. Sending a response text back to you telling you that he loved you too and that he’d call you when he got back to the dorm after dinner. He smiled softly to himself feeling better about the whole situation before wincing slightly when he felt the twinge in his shoulder again but he settled back against the wall where he sat and waited for his hyungs to finish their workouts.

“Innie, what did I tell you yesterday?!” Chan snapped out aggravatedly and Jeongin hissed through his teeth while wincing. Ever since he woke up this morning his shoulder had been tight and locked up, almost to the point of pain causing his eyes to tear up. When he had told Chan about it the older man had quickly called the group's doctor to come by their dorm and check on Jeongin. After his visit he had let them know that he had probably pulled a muscle working out the day before and would need to be on muscle relaxers and pain meds with a week of rest. When Chan had asked him what he had done yesterday in the gym, Jeongin had confessed that he lifted more than normal at the Lat Pulldown machine which had set Chan off and how he had come to be sitting on his bed as Chan paced his room ranting about telling him to not overdo it. “I mean really, Innie! I told you to only lift your normal weight. And now look at you!” Snapped Chan angrily and Jeongin rolled his eyes at the older man.

”Get off my back Chan!” He snipped out angrily as anger rose up within him at being scolded by the older man. Chan whirled on his heel and glared at Jeongin who cowered back on the bed.

”I told you not to do it because it would be too much for you. But of course you didn’t listen because you think you’re grown. Well now look at you! A whole week off right before we go one a three day mini tour!” Snapped Chan as he began pacing once again. Jeongin scowled as he watched Chan pull out his phone and begin dialing someone.

”Who are you calling?” Jeongin asked, feeling a sense of dread start to form in his stomach.

”The only one I know who can take care of you while you’re benched.” Chan hissed before turning back to the phone call when the person picked up. “Hi Yeobo, where are you?” Chan greeted you and Jeongin moved on the bed to stand up but Chan snapped a glaring look at him which had him sitting back down with a sour look on his face. He knew Chan had called you and knew that you’d be worried about him and would offer to take care of him while he was out but he didn’t want that. He could take care of himself, he didn’t need a babysitter. 

“Chan hyung, don’t bother her, I can take care of myself.” Jeongin groaned out and Chan ignored him while gritting his teeth.

”Yeobo, Innie hurt himself at the gym yesterday. Pulled a muscle and the doctor put him on meds and rest for a week. Can I drop him at yours for the week? I won’t be able to take care of him this week, what with all the prep I have to do for the concerts coming up.” Chan said into the phone and Jeongin scowled darkly at him. “Great! Thanks Yeobo! I really appreciate it.” Chan said relieved and Jeongin gritted his teeth in irritation. After Chan had hung up the phone he turned and glared at Jeongin who still sat on the bed scowling at the floor. “Pack a bag for a week. I’m going to drop you off at Yeobo’s apartment. If you give her any problems while you’re there you’re going to be hearing from me. Do you understand?” Chan told him and then threatened him softly as he stepped closer to Jeongin on the bed. Jeongin doesn’t look at him but nods his head, feeling his stomach twist and turn with irritation, anger and hurt pride. He knew you would take great care of him but why did he feel as if this was a prison sentence and not going to spend a week with his girlfriend?

At first it wasn’t bad, you had gotten him set up in your bedroom since your mattress was the comfiest thing in your apartment. You had managed to quickly buy all of the essentials for his time of resting, snacks, ingredients for meals that he enjoyed, enough water and hydration drinks that he liked, and you had even gotten him a heat and cooling pad to help aid his shoulder recovery. Jeongin was grateful for everything that you were doing for him, you had to rearrange your work schedule to be able to take care of him and had to take on longer hours in the evening to make up for it all. 

But after the second day his irritation and aggravation had hit an all time high. You hadn’t let him do anything that involved raising his shoulder and or moving that shoulder too much. Even reaching up to grab a mug was curbed by you and Jeongin was starting to feel stifled and smothered in your apartment. You were everywhere and he couldn’t get any alone time or space away from you. You were there when he woke up, you were there on your lunch break just to “check in on him”, you were there when he lounged in bed before falling asleep. It was getting to be too much for him and he was growing more grumpy, more stubborn, more petulant with you while you tried to ease any of his aches and pains. He knew he was adding to your stress, could see it in the way that you just tumbled into bed after work late every night; could see it in the tightness around your face when he would argue with you that he could do things himself. But he couldn’t stop himself, he saw it happening as if it was an out of body experience that he couldn’t shake himself out of.

By day four, you were exhausted and he was just beyond aggravated now. He could see the bags under your eyes when you woke since you would constantly check his cooling and heating pads during the night. You cooked his meals three times a day and while he knew he should be eating he was too stubborn to eat the food letting it go to waste all because his pride was getting the better of him. 

This morning you were going through the motions trying to be sympathetic to him and get everything prepared for him for the day but today he had woken up with a vengeance that he couldn’t control. You stood at the side of the bed blearily blinking as you got his medication ready for him, you turned to him and he frowned when he saw the two pills in the open palm of your hand a water bottle already opened on the bedside table waiting for him.

”I don’t need your help to take my medicine.” He snipped out heatedly and you let out a heavy sigh that tugged at his heart, he was hurting you.

”Innie, please.” You pleaded with him tiredly but his pride an ugly monster inside of him reared its head.

”I’m not a baby!” He shouted at you suddenly and you jerked back in surprise. “I can take care of myself! Don’t you get that?! I don’t need your help nor do I want it!” He shouted and you blinked at him a few times in surprise, his volume scaring you into silence. “You and the guys all treat me as if I’m too young to do anything by myself! I’m sick and tired of it! I can’t stand it when you do this! I hate it!!” He shouted in your face as he stood from the bed to tower of you using his height to intimidate you. You stared up at him with wide owlish eyes blinking rapidly, he seethed in front of you breathing heavily as his fists clenched at his sides.

”I didn’t mean to baby you.” You said in a small voice while shrinking back from him. “I just wanted you to get better quickly and figured-“ you began to quickly explain but Jeongin cut you off.

”You figured doing it for me was better?! Who are you, my mother?” He hissed angrily at you and you sucked in a harsh breath as tears began to pool in your eyes. Jeongin felt rage consume him as he watched you shrink in on yourself even more in the face of his hurt angry pride. “What would’ve happened if you weren’t here?! Huh?! I can fend for myself for a week damnit! Stop treating me as if I’m helpless! I’m not weak!” He shouted and you flinched back. 

He watched with narrowed eyes as you suddenly straightened your posture and snapped your head up to glare at him and he felt his stomach drop. Your eyes were tired, haunted and now suddenly very angry, almost livid.

“Such a grown man who has to yell and intimidate his girlfriend who’s trying to help him huh?” You snapped angrily at him and Jeongin nearly suffocated with how much his pride clawed at his throat but he could see the hurt in your eyes, the tiredness and he suddenly knew he had pushed you to your limit. You suddenly began walking around your room opening drawers until you pulled out clothes to get dressed into, not bothering to even acknowledge Jeongin anymore. You quickly dressed and Jeongin felt panic begin to form in the pit of his stomach.

”Where are you going?” He asked, still seething and you scoffed loudly over your shoulder.

”If you think I’m going to continue to be disrespected in my own apartment while helping you, you must be insane.” You snipped at him and he felt the wind get knocked out of him, he instantly deflated even as anger stil coiled within him. “You must be out of your damn mind.” You rambled angrily as you continued to get changed in front of him. “All I’m doing is trying to help you. Get you back to full recovery so that you can go perform at your concerts because that’s what you love to do. And all I’ve been met with is a stubborn petulant little child.” You hissed angrily and Jeongin flinched at your words as you kept moving about your room. When you finished getting changed  you turned to him and frowned darkly. “Grow up, Jeongin. And be the grown man you claim to be.” You snapped at him and he flinched once more at your anger, hearing his full name come out of your mouth in anger made his heart clench with shock in his chest.

”Wait-“ he began to say but you shook your head suddenly looking as exhausted as you felt.

”I’m gonna go for a walk before I say something I’ll regret even more so than this. If you get hungry before he comes to get you there’s food in the fridge.” You tell him wearily and he begins to panic as everything seems to crash down around him. “I got my phone on me. Text me if you need anything, but I need to go cool off.” You tell him and then walk out of your bedroom. When he hears the front door close and lock he flinches before slumping down onto the bed, anger and pride still swirling within him but now panic and worry ate at his insides creating a storm within him that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to weather.

When the front door opened again later that afternoon Jeongin, who had been laying in bed trying to get comfortable, tensed. You were back. He could hear the rustling of grocery bags as your footsteps walked into the apartment. As he listened he tracked your movement, hearing you enter the kitchen and begin putting things away before the clanging of pans being taken out alerted him that you were going to cook. His stomach grumbled naturally and he rolled his eyes while huffing out a slow soft breath. 

Emotions swirled within him still but yearning beat them all out and came to the forefront. While you were gone he had worried that he had overstepped and done irreparable damage to your relationship, he was worried that you were going to come back home with a clear head and break up with him. He didn’t want that, he loved you. And now after getting some space from you he could see how much of a jerk he was while you tried to help him recover.

As he listened to you humming softly to yourself he felt the disconnect, you didn’t call out for him, didn’t ask how he was feeling like you normally would after coming home from work. Guilt twisted in his gut and nearly made him feel sick. He mentally prepared to beg you for forgiveness and to apologize like his life depended on it, he felt it was the only right thing he could do for you. It was what you deserved after dealing with his sour attitude for the past four days.

When you entered the bedroom holding a large tray of his favorite meal, Jeongin nearly burst into tears, he could see the steaming bowl of warm rice, grilled meats, soup with the ingredients he always asked for. Slowly sitting up in the bed he watched you silently as you moved to the bedside and set the tray down before sitting on the edge of the bed and looked down at your hands that rested in your lap.

”I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were helpless. I didn’t mean to baby you like the guys do.” You told him confidently before looking up at him. “Your injury scared me, I know how much performing means to you and I just wanted to make sure you healed properly. I went too far. I made you feel like a child when all I wanted was for you to get better quickly so that you could get back to doing what you love.” Jeongin stared at you in shocked silence, you were apologizing to him? “I’m sorry Innie. I’ll try better-“ you apologized and Jeongin reached for you with his good arm and pulled you swiftly into his chest making you yelp in surprise at his movement. His arm wrapped around you tightly and kept you flush against him feeling your comforting warmth, your weight in his lap as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

”I’m sorry, too.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just…I hate this. I hate feeling helpless. I hate needing help. But I know you were just trying to take care of me. I’m sorry for lashing out.” He apologized to you and you gently stroked his back.

”I didn’t want to make you feel small. I just wanted you to be okay.” You whispered to him and he hummed softly at your words before gently pulling back from your shoulder to look into your eyes, his eyes soft and adoring as they gazed at you.

”Next time I feel overwhelmed. I’ll talk to you. Like the grown man I claim I am.” He says to you and you both chuckle, the tension breaking like sunlight through the clouds.

”Now eat before it gets cold.” You tell him and he grins at you while rolling his eyes which makes you chuckle. You help him with the tray before taking a seat next to him on the bed. He takes a bite of the food and sighs in bliss before looking over at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

”You’re too good to me.” He sighs out softly and you scoff softly before nodding your head in agreement which makes him grin widely.

”And don’t you forget it.” You say proudly as he chuckles. Jeongin shares his food with you, feeding you bites of it as your legs tangle together under the bed sheets and laughter rings out in the bedroom. The television flickered in the background with a show that neither of you paid attention to. 

After the plates were cleared, Jeongin pulled you close again, this time with no resistance or complaints. Just warmth, love and rest.

[aajjks]

Dollie (m)

synopsis. just Toji fucking your mouth like a psycho.

warnings: 18+, dárk, róugh fckíng, dèèp thróátíng, só much rôughnèss, chókíng, cúm, dègradtíon. Ôrál sèx (málè rècïèvíng), YÂNDÈRÈ.

note. umm… yeah. Read at your own risk.

•••

“Nghh mhm yeah… Yeah baby that’s so fuckin good..”

Toji, who can't help but stare at your plump, luscious lips as you speak. His mind races with dirty thoughts, imagining all the filthy things he wants to do to that perfect mouth.

He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers,

“I’m going to fuck your face so hard, you'll be gagging on my thick cock all night long. I need to feel those soft lips wrapped around me, milking me dry.”

He's addicted to your taste, your scent, the way your mouth feels around him.

He can't get enough of stuffing your face full of his dick, watching you choke and sputter as he forces himself deeper down your throat.

He loves seeing your pretty eyes water and your cheeks bulge obscenely. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hips snapping ruthlessly.

He loves the power he holds over you when his cock is buried in your mouth. He grabs your hair, pulling you onto his shaft until your nose is buried.

“Take it all, yn. Choke on my fat dick like the greedy cumwhore you are.”

He holds you there, letting you struggle for air before finally pulling back.

He can't resist running his thumb along your stretched, spit-slicked lips as you suck him off.

“You look so beautiful with your mouth stuffed full of cock,”

He moans, hips undulating slowly.

“I want to wreck this pretty face, mark you as mine.” He forces your head down further, enjoying the obscene sounds of your gagging.

Toji thinks you're most attractive when you're on your knees, servicing him with that sweet little mouth.

He loves watching you bob up and down his shaft, your eyes locked on his as you worship his cock.

“That's it, baby. Take it deep. Swallow every inch like a good little cocksucker.”

He craves the tight heat of your throat, the way it squeezes and massages his sensitive cockhead. Toji grips your hair, hammering into your mouth with brutal force.

“Fuck, your throat feels so good. I'm gonna bust my load right down your fuckin throat.”

Toji loves the way your spit dribbles down your chin as he fucks your face. He smears it across your cheeks, marking you as his personal plaything.

“Drooling already? Such a needy little cockslut.” He pumps faster, balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

He's entranced by the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips, the way your mouth stretches obscenely around him. Toji growls possessively, slamming his dick into the back of your throat. “F-Fuck… Mine. All mine. Gonna fill this slutty mouth with my cum.”

He is obsessed with the feeling of your tongue fluttering against his shaft as you suck him.

He pushes deeper, forcing you to deepthroat his throbbing meat.

“Use that wicked tongue, baby. Lick up every drop of pre cum leaking from my slit.”

He can't help but grin wickedly as he watches you struggle to take his massive cock. He thrusts hard, burying himself to the hilt in your tight throat.

“Breathe through your nose, slut. I'm not pulling out until I've emptied my balls.”

Toji loves seeing his cock juices dripping down your chest as he plows your face. He smacks your tits, leaving red handprints on your skin. “Such a filthy cum dumpster. Beg me for more.”

He's completely lost in pleasure as he fucks your mouth with abandon. Toji’s eyes roll back, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

“Mhm Fuck yes, just like that. Milk my cock dry with that slutty little mouth.”

Toji’s jaw clenches as he nears his climax. He hammers into your throat mercilessly, balls drawing up tight.

“Gonna...gonna fucking cum... Take it all, bitch!”

He explodes, painting your insides white with his thick seed.

He loves watching your throat work as he pumps into your mouth, trying to swallow everything he gives you.

Toji groans deeply, slamming in one final time before flooding your gullet with his release.

Toji can never get enough of fucking your face, leaving you raw and dripping with his cum.

He pets your hair lovingly afterwards, murmuring praises for being such a good little whore.

“All mine. My perfect little fuckdoll.”

[offdxty]

A jaw works at the answer given, those dark brows remaining knitted over eyes that still portray the shimmer, but have softened a little with his mind having calmed down and tension slipped away from sore shoulders. They keep looking, keep observing as if not quite believing the other; Kane does, but he wonders if there's more than just the sedative that is causing the man trouble...

Did they do something else, next to giving him sedatives? Why did they even do that, why would they give Harrow sedatives to begin with? What is the purpose of him being sedated...?

Interestingly so, Kane knows what a sedative is. He knows what it does. He just doesn't see how it makes sense for them - the people who work here besides Dr. Harrow - to administer such to him. Is it about wanting to have control? Power? Would Harrow act differently if he were without them? Would he be in some sort of discomfort, pain, would he suffer so visibly that others could notice, which is why said sedative had been given to him---?

Thoughs spiral, so much so that it affects that expression sitting on Kane, not-Kane, it's features - it darkens, noticeably so, turns into something almost a little dangerous at the edges as dark, colorful irises flick back and forth, from one eye to the other; Perhaps he's trying to drill himself into the other's soul, trying to figure out what this is about, whether the man in front of him is hiding something - or unable to show what's bothering him because of that drug he's on...

All of this because he cares. Kane cares about Harrow, and he's worried about his health. About his... feelings, even. He truly is.

Another shift of a jaw, like teeth clicking into place as they press against another, before a soft exhale is allowed to leave a curved nose; Kane's eyes fall closed for a moment, a cheek sucked in before it pops back out - his gaze returning softer once again, like he had to physically force himself to let go of whatever had been boiling inside him for a moment and a half there.

---Focuses back on what Dr. Harrow has said instead - what Harrow is doing after, pulling up the canvas, showing off the tins and glass that's existing within it.

Kane looks at them, glances over at the cup of tea, then back at the man so close to him. Despite it all, despite being on sedatives and having gone through something bad himself, he...is here. He made his way over to Kane, not-Kane, it, made sure to bring a warm beverage and ointments to treat his injuries...

It warms his heart. So much so that it can be spotted on his features now, in the same way as that hardness had appeared before - just that it is made of utter softness this time, of subtly furrowed brows and slightly pursed lips. Of nostrils that flare for a second, of lids that lower themselves a bit, dark lashes framing his gaze as it continues to look, continues to take in the sight of blue combined with dilated pupils.

Then, a nod - and Kane, despite not wanting to, has to pull back his arms, let go of Harrow's upper body so that he can lift the hem of his own shirt; He's struggling for a moment, one can spot it in his brows knitting and a jawline tensing, when he inhales and then tugs - like ripping a bandaid off, he rips that fabric over his head and away, getting it over and done with to keep the pain of moving too much as minimal as possible.

Bruises have darkened since they've been revealed for the first time - yellow and green turned into blue and purple, a hint of red. Almost like tattoos blending into bronze skin, just less defined than the one that decorates Kane's left pectoral - and certainly a lot more sensivite, on top of it.

Kane swallows, puts his shirt on top of the mattress next to them... then looks down at himself for a second, taking in the sight of what that security guard has done to his physical frame.

"...It's not as bad as it looks." Another lie, because it hurts, but Kane, not-Kane, it, doesn't want Harrow to worry too much - he will be fine, he will heal, somehow. He has to, after all. "But it is a bit sore."

Another breath, one that's carefully executed so as to not put too much strain on his lungs. Oil slick returns to something a lot brigher, with Kane's gaze finding Harrow's, something a little unsure, perhaps expectant, lingering within them.

Something skeptical, again. "...What kind of ointments?" He's curious, yes, and he trusts that whatever Harrow has brought over will be good for him - but he wonders if that man even remembers what it is, or if he has to take a look at it before giving an answer.

Kane is still thinking about the sedatives.

Arthur didn’t answer immediately.

He was watching Kane, instead, watching the slow blink of his dark lashes, the way his lip curled, the way his voice sounded when he said he didn’t want to sleep. Arthur’s brows pulled faintly, not in pity but in something else; something upset with himself, something guilty.

He hated knowing that Kane’s body was aching, he hated how he phrased such terrible abuse as nothing more than him being ‘uncomfortable’. 

Arthur had brought medical items on purpose for that, of course. He knew that Kane would be aching from everything, so he’d brought things to help - still in a bag, sitting nearby. 

He didn’t look at it, though. It was easy to want to keep looking at Kane. There wasn’t anything crude in the thought, it wasn’t inappropriate. The man was beautiful. Kane had been a handsome man to begin with, but the way that this Kane wore it was something else entirely.

There was a softness to him, something fragile and sweet, something frightened and injured. He was trying to hold himself together, and he was doing so well - Arthur wanted to keep him safe. 

This wasn’t a bad thought. It didn’t come with want. Just acknowledgement, warmth; something he normally wouldn’t be thinking, normally one who kept his thoughts in order rather well, but… 

The shape of the man was far closer to him than he had been with anyone, in a while. His hand was tangled into Kane’s hair, both of them curved into the lines of each other’s body, as if they’d been poured into each other. And Kane was looking at him like that, now - like he was searching for something, brows knit together over beautiful eyes. 

The question wasn’t sharp, nor was it cruel. It only pricked because it was right - was it that obvious? He felt it, sure, but he rarely wore how he felt on his face - he supposed that dilated pupils couldn’t be hidden, though. The redness in his eyes, the lower hold of his lids. 

He took a small breath, before speaking. “Nothing anywhere as bad as what they did to you,” he answered, brushing it away fully. “They gave me a sedative, that’s all.” It wasn’t a bad one, not really - enough to make his thoughts blur, but little more. 

Arthur exhaled, slow. His gaze dipped some to Kane’s form, again; ‘uncomfortable’. Hurting. Bruises that Arthur couldn’t see, a tension, a way Kane likely had to watch his breathing; Arthur understood injuries to a fairly intimate level.

“I brought things to help,” he said, having semi-forgotten that he had already said it before. “Ointments, balms - stuff that’ll help with the bruises, with the pain.”

He had set the bag close enough to reach without having to evict Kane from his lap, glass at tin clinking inside of the closed canvas. He opened it carefully, one-handed as to keep the other around Kane, revealing the array of supplies within. Dark jars, bandages, patches, a couple small ice packs. 

He didn’t touch any of it, yet, though, his focus returning to Kane. “You’ll need to take your shirt off - I can help, if that’s easier.” He wouldn’t do it without permission, of course - but he knew that it might be hard, with the bruises being where they were. 

“I brought tea, too. Something that’ll… it should help.” He could barely remember what he’d put in it, unfortunately. He had made it mindfully, though - and he trusted himself to have made something good for the other. 

[alldthoughtsinmyhead]

The Good On-Set Assistant.

Summary: You're not a slut, you're just really good at your job.

Warnings: Smut

What if you worked in production on a movie that had Aaron, MBJ, and Lewis Hamilton?

I mean... you're not a slut... but some things can't be helped, can they?

You're assigned to all three men. You have to do whatever assistants do. Make them feel at home. Whatever that means.

On your first day with MBJ, he’s nursing a headache. A painkiller should fix it, but there’s none available, so you do what every dedicated assistant does:

You offer to empty his balls.

Guess what?

He feels better right after.

The problem? He now thinks you’re his. So he drags you into a dark corner every chance he gets on set to empty his balls—right into you.

So now you’re stuck gargling Listerine so your breath doesn’t smell like cum every time you open your mouth.

MBJ wraps, and you heave a sigh of relief. Your kidneys will fail if they have to process another dump of cum into your stomach.

Next, you’re assigned to Lewis.

He’s so sweet—he really is. Problem? He can’t stop staring at your ass.

See, you have a thing for skin tights. They’re super comfy. But they also show every curve of that wagon you’re dragging around.

So Lewis has the same problem every other man—and bisexual woman—has on set: he can’t take his eyes off it.

One day, when he’s had enough, he begs you like his life depends on it.

“Just a taste,” he swears. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

So you let him bend you over. What’s the worst that could happen?

The worst that could happen? He’s grabbing your ass cheeks every chance he gets.

He’s standing nude in his trailer, running down your battery with calls, while precum drips from the tip of his flagpole because he’s been dreaming of backshots with you the whole time he was on set.

You’re not one step into his trailer before he’s dragging down your tights and heating himself up inside you, groaning out his gratitude and relief.

You go home full of cum every day.

The claps from his trailer had just started getting noticed when he wraps.

You heave another sigh of relief. It’s finally over, you say.

But then Aaron fucking Stone Pierre gets cast.

And guess what? You’re assigned to him.

Yeah... the gods hate your coochie.

His first day on set has you wearing panty liners for no other reason than to prevent a damp stain on your tights.

These are high-quality tights, but they’re definitely going to snitch on you. So you slap on those liners like a seal on your nether lips.

The first day with Aaron goes well. He’s so tender, so gentle, handles you like a cup of tea.

But by day three?

He’s staring at that ass like a starved man.

The day he asks you, it’s a different kind of request.

“Can you sit on my face?” His eyes boring into yours.

How can you resist?

So you oblige.

Peeling your tights off your skin, you plant your cooch right on his face... and he sends you straight to heaven.

Moments later, he’s wiping fluids from his nose and face while you’re struggling to rediscover your legs.

And so your routine starts.

Every morning before he goes on set, you sit on his face as you read him his lines.

Helping him memorize his lines is in your job description.

So what if you grind your coochie on his face? He’s not complaining, is he?

Evenings after he wraps his scene for the day have you on your back, holding your legs open as he pumps into you aggressively, taking out all the anger he held back on set.

He batters your love tunnel and fills your baby pocket with cum over and over again.

You take him, your cries and whimpers muffled by the panties he’d shoved into your mouth.

When he’s drained the last drop of cum, he takes out the tiny thong from your throat and kisses you.

So now you’ve been a good assistant to three good men. Helping them do their jobs, because that’s what good assistants do.

Aaron wraps now too—and suddenly you’re feeling alone. And bored.

One day, you get an invite to a private party.

You get dressed and arrive on time. When you open the door?

All three men are standing there… waiting for you to step inside—and close the door.

@daniiwrites, you inadvertently inspired this one. lol. Got drunk and drafted this... please ignore typos.

[kyokeiii]

keigo in his thirties being a little insecure about his body now that he's got an office job and is not as physically active but his partner has never been more attracted to him ☺️

♡𝅼⠀⠀what’s cookin’, good lookin’

contains  ‎  fluff. gn!reader. timeskip!keigo. keigo in his early 30s feeling insecure. hurt/comfort (sort of). themes of body dysmorphia if you squint.

keigo stares at himself in the mirror and hardly recognizes who he sees.

he looks tired. he looks...older. his hair is tigered with gray, as is his goatee. there are lines on the corners of his eyes, lines around his mouth, wrinkles embedded in his forehead. the tailored suit that was once sculpted to his body now bulges around his tummy.

his skin has faded from a smooth honey tan to a wan shade, much paler now that he spends so much time inside instead of out under the sun. and the scars that mar his face and body just add to the effect, as if he’s spent eons weathering the world instead of just thirty-two years.

behind him, shuffling around your shared bedroom and getting yourself ready for work, you hum idly, peering around him in the mirror to adjust your neatly tucked in shirt. the sight of you, looking as gorgeous as ever, utterly flawless in keigo’s eyes—it makes his throat close over.

your head snaps up without warning, and keigo quickly averts his gaze on instinct, and immediately curses himself for his mistake. nobody else in the world would think twice of it, but you know your husband, all his quirks and idiosyncrasies and the subtlest changes in his body language, and instantly, you can detect that something’s wrong.

he stares blankly at his face in the mirror, taking in the crinkled sheaf of skin at the edges of his eyes, until he feels your arms curl around him from behind.

“hey, handsome.”

handsome. will you ever, keigo wonders, understand the weight of the gift you gave him in that moment? anything else—what’s wrong, are you okay—would have shattered his already scant courage in a moment, and what choice would he have but to plaster on a fake smile and insist that he was perfectly fine?

instead, you said, “hey, handsome,” in a gentle, teasing tone. oh, how keigo loves you.

“handsome?” he replies, fixing his gaze on yours in the image of the reflective glass. “i think you got the wrong guy.”

you blink at him, crinkling your nose and squinting at him. “what? no.”

“aw, shucks. you don’t have to butter me up, sweetheart.”

“i’m not buttering you up. i’m being honest,” you counter.

it’s the simplest of reassurances, a barebones compliment, but keigo’s heart warms anyway. he squeezes his tummy chub, remembering ruefully how wiry he’d been in his heyday. “even with this?” he makes sure his tone is light, not genuine.

your grin creeps up toward your ears. “especially with that.”

“what, my potbelly?”

“you look sexy, kei’. you look...well built, and...” your cheeks are warm and you’re struggling for words, and keigo realizes that you’re being serious. the thought sends heat coursing through his veins.

he turns to face you, cupping your face in calloused palms. “yeah? you think i’m sexy? i don’t exactly look the way i did in my twenties, ya know.”

“i like the way you look,” you say breathlessly.

“well, thanks, babe.”

“no, i mean it!” your insistence surprises him. “i think...i think you’re just as attractive as you were however long ago. maybe even more. but...but even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t change anything.”

keigo studies you carefully. he’s very good at ascertaining when other people are lying, especially you, whom he knows so well. but he can’t pick up any of your usual tells. as far as he can see, you’re being completely genuine.

he blows out a long breath, raising his bushy eyebrows. “wow. even if i was ugly, huh?”

“seriously, keigo? you thought i’m that shallow?”

“well, you kind of are. considering that you’re drooling over how hot i am right now.” you scowl at him, and he can’t help but laugh. “i’m joking!”

you roll your eyes, but your annoyance fades as you step closer to him and rise on tiptoe to give him a kiss. “i think you’re handsome, keigo,” you say. “are you worried that you aren’t?”

“i try to look good for you, ya know?” he offers a smile that is much sweeter than before. it’s the grin he reserves only for you.

you blink at him, perplexed.

“but you don’t have to try. you just are.”

[thevanillerose]

PALACE | YANDERE!JINSHI x READER | THE APOTHECARY DIARIES

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. Content Warning: YANDERE | ATTEMPTED/DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE | Captivity A/N: ANGSTY BOY. SOOO MUCH ANGST IN THIS ONE. Also, some serious themes, please take note of the content warning!!

It was a gilded cage.

Soft lanterns diffused light through carved wood panels, casting the illusion of warmth. The Inner Palace was beautiful, yes—but it was anything but welcoming. It was a stage, a perfect stage, designed for silence and obedience.

Tonight, for the first time in weeks, you were alone.

Jinshi had left hours ago, summoned unexpectedly to a late audience with the Empress Dowager. He hadn’t wanted to go. You could tell. His hand had lingered too long at your cheek. His voice had been too soft when he said, “Rest. I’ll return before the candles burn out.”

And now you stood before the ornate side door, the one he thought you didn’t know about. It had been hidden behind a cabinet, but left alone, with a little effort, you were able to push it aside. Of course, it was locked too. But that was something you had prepared for.

You reached into your sleeve and withdrew the hairpin.

It was clever. When you had been dressed perfectly for him, you had taken note of this little addition. It had taken you days to file the end to a crude point, stolen moments with your back to the servants, feigning sleep while you worked it down on a stone.

Now, with shaking hands, you pressed it into the door’s lock. One twist. Another. 

Click. The door creaked open an inch.

Air hit your lungs in a gasp. The cool scent of the outer halls, tinged with night jasmine and river fog. Freedom. Even just a sliver of it.

You pushed it open farther, shaking with anticipation and early relief, tears already welling in your eyes. It actually worked—

“Going somewhere?”

Immediately, you froze, halfway out the door. The hairpin slipped from your fingers, landing with a traitorous ping on the polished floor. Turning, slowly, those tears had already spilled down your cheeks.

Jinshi stood in the corridor, framed by the golden glow of the lanterns. Jinshi, with his long hair and handsome face, violet eyes that you were so used to. He had a gentle smile on his face, but those eyes were sad, betrayed.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he stepped forward, and with one swift and ruthless motion, he shoved you hard by the chest, sending you stumbling backwards into his chambers again. You landed with a thud, ornate robes strewn around your quivering body.

Jinshi calmly stepped inside the room, closing and locking the door behind him again. Silent as silk over marble, he bent down and picked up the hairpin, turning it in his fingers with a faint frown.

“Ah…that’s how you did it…” His head tilted slightly, and something wild flashed in his eyes. “Were you hoping to stab me with it if you didn’t manage to escape?”

“Jinshi, please.” you whimpered, struggling to your feet, “You…you know I can’t live like this anymore. I feel like I’m losing my mind—”

The mask slipped.

He stepped forward and grabbed you by both your wrists, and suddenly you were against the wall, breath punched out of your lungs, the door at your back, his body warm and close. 

“You were going to leave me,” he murmured, voice low and trembling. No rage, just hurt. “After everything I gave you. A life most could only dream of.”

You pushed at him feebly. “You took everything! I can’t even see my family anymore! I have nothing left except this room, and it’s all because of you!”

His forehead pressed to yours, eyes closed, breathing hard through his nose. “Stop…” You tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, and pulled back to glare at you angrily, eyes wild.  “Don’t be so selfish. You have everything you could ever need here, more than most could dream of—”

“Except freedom.”

That landed. His jaw twitched and his hands finally slipped away. 

Not wasting your chance, you bolted across the room to your desk—where the small bottle you’d prepared days ago was hidden in the third drawer down, behind your calligraphy practice sheets. You had no illusions about how fast he was. But you could be faster.

I never thought I’d have to use this, but if he’s not going to let me go— Your fingers closed around the tincture, and you lifted it before your lips.

You popped the cork, and it bounced and rolled across the ground, reaching the toe of his finely crafted shoe.

“...I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being a prisoner, and if you’re never going to set me free, then this is the only choice I have…” Jinshi was just staring at you. You stared back, trying not to look as scared as you felt.

There was a sudden blur of blue. SMASH!

The bottle flew from your grip, shattering across the lacquered floor in a spray of bitter-smelling herbs and alcohol. Jinshi stood before you again, his hand outstretched, trembling. His eyes wide, his face pale. 

You stared at the fragments. Then at him.

He was…shaking. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t ever…do something that reckless again.”

You swallowed thickly. It surprised you…how desperate he looked.  “...What else am I supposed to do?”

“I never meant to make you feel that way!” he snapped, and you flinched as his fist thrust out and thudded against the wall by your head. “You think I don’t know what this looks like? You think I don’t see what I’ve become?” Chest heaving, eyes wide and tearful, he stared at the ground between your feet in a manic way. “I…I was going to wait. I was going to let you love me on your own. I assumed it would just take time…”

Jinshi’s eyes met yours, deep purple in the dim chamber light. “But even still, even after everything I do, you still despise me so much?” He cut himself off. Swallowed. “I’ve never begged for anything in my life. I’ve never yearned so fiercely…” he whispered. “Not before you.”

And then, he suddenly dropped to his knees. A man unraveling right before you, vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. All you could do was watch him, bewildered, pressing your back and your palms tighter against the wall behind you.

“Please,” he murmured, not looking up again. “Stay.”

Your eyes slowly ventured over to the sight of the broken bottle on the floor. Your final chance lay devastated there. A fleeting opportunity to finally be free, that had quite literally slipped from your fingers.

His hands reached out, and you flinched as they touched your legs, slipped up the backs of your thighs beneath your robes.

His voice was suddenly lower. Rougher. Still, he didn’t look at you. “I’ll give you anything, [Y/N]. Anything you ask. The key. The gate. The world outside—if you swear to return. But if you walk out that door and never look back, I’ll tear the capital apart trying to find you. I will.”

The desperation in his voice turned your stomach. More terrifying still, was knowing he was fully capable of that.

You stood still. Chest heaving. Trapped between terror and tenderness. A sharp gasp escaped you, body squirming, as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, exhaling shakily and desperately.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Not by decree. Not by force. But because I know you are. I knew it the day I first saw you. And I’ll keep knowing it until I die. Even if you’re the one who ends up killing me…”

Finally, Jinshi rose slowly. His body slid up tight against yours as he did, reaching chest to chest. “We belong together…” he whispered against your throat, and you felt the dampness of tears drip onto your skin.

“We’ll die together, if that’s what it takes…”

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[dominimoonbeam]

Biker Boy Romance - 2

The Biker Boy Romance I really need to come up with a working name for!!

Keep in mind that it's a first draft! I'm sharing as I go. <3

chapter one

tags: car accident, meet cute in peril, watch how fast i fall in low with side characters

CHAPTER TWO

Felix had done a lot of reckless things in his life, but jumping into a car crash might be the craziest.

Then again…skateboarding off the roof of a second story into a pool when he was fourteen had been pretty dumb. And he’d broken his arm doing that. This time, Felix hadn’t broken anything and had a woman wrapped around him in the bay, pushing hair out of his face and smiling up at him. Lucky for them both, it was summer.

He kicked them closer to shore, eyeing a spot where the rocks were low and, based on the graffiti, teens had managed to climb up and down just fine. An ambulance and a police cruiser had arrived to the crash up by the bridge. Voices shouted down but he couldn’t catch what they were saying, and wasn’t really that interested either if he was being honest. Any second now, someone in a uniform was going to pull Vera out of his arms and turn this strange, insane moment into a series of questions and reports.

For the first time, he realized she had a bag over her shoulder.  Felix laughed. “You kept your purse?” How had she managed to keep hold on that?

She touched the strap as if to make sure it was still there. “It’s not a purse.”

He tipped his head to get a look at it. Thin leather strap, small leather bag. “Looks an awful lot like a purse…”

Vera huffed. “Unfortunately the purse, along with my phone and my wallet, are sinking to the bottom of the bay with your helmet.”

By the time they got to the bank, an officer was there waiting, reaching down to help her up. Felix was surprised how disappointed he was to have to let her go. When the officer pulled her up out of the water first, Felix flattened his palms down her hips, smoothing that dress down before any of those cameras angled their way could get a shot she might not want out there. 

He pulled himself up after them, sopping wet.

They were led up to the road by paramedics, each asked a string of questions.

Felix laughed to himself when Vera turned up her nose at the offered blanket. She was ocean dipped and shoeless, but not about to be wrapped in a blanket on the sidewalk.

He took his shirt off and wrung it out before putting it back on.

The street was still a mess of cars blocking the bridge, and a line of vehicles jammed up as far as the eye could see. A lot of people weren’t making it to their lunch plans today. 

He explained what he’d seen for the third time. He hadn’t been a part of the collisions, not the first or the second. The first cop had definitely tried to get him to admit to speeding on his bike and being at fault. The second moved past it when other stories corroborated his, but both struggled to believe he’d gotten into the car knowing it was falling until one of the bystanders showed them the footage.

They cut him loose when they realized he really wasn’t involved in anything here and with five smashed up cars, they had more to deal with than him.

He found Vera still in the company of the paramedics who were now trying to convince her to get into the ambulance. She backed away from them and he caught the end of her sentence, “–already late. Really, I’m fine. Thank–” she backed right into his chest.

Felix caught her arm to steady her, smiling when she turned to look up at him. She had fire in her eyes and he could imagine the words rallying on her tongue to tell whoever had grabbed her to back off. And then, just as quickly as that storm was gathering in her, it cleared. It cleared when she saw him. Her pretty face smoothed into a real smile, surprised like they were friends running into each other.

He’d seen her in the cab before the accidents. Her hair looked even darker now that it was wet, still tied back though now quiet as neatly as it had been before their dunk in the bay.

“You’re planning to walk?”

“Yeah. I’m just going to The Valdin.”

His eyebrow shot up. The Valdin was one of the fanciest hotels in Everton. “You’re staying there?”

She laughed. “No. I’ve got an apartment downtown. I’ll manage,” she said.

He knew she would, but he pointedly glanced down at her bare feet and then back at those dark eyes. “Do you want a ride?” Felix took a step back, toward his bike. “I can get you across the bridge.”

For a second he was sure she’d tell him she could get herself across the bridge. She could. Of course, she could. Her gaze flicked to his bike and then to him, her mouth pulling at the corner. “Really?”

“We’ll go slow.” He smiled. They didn’t have helmets. They were definitely going to take it easy.

She walked toward him, skeptical but enticed. He knew he had her now. He already had the sense that Vera was not a person who backed down from things. “Is slow really slow on that?” she asked.

His smile grew. “No.” He put down the pegs and got on, knocking back the kickstand and starting the engine. Her eyes flared at the pur and he caught it. “Have you ever ridden on a bike?”

Vera shook her head but took another step closer, dark gaze skimming over the seat and pegs like she was sorting out her plan of attack. He tapped his shoulder and she put a hand there. “It’s not going to be comfortable,” he warned.

She scoffed.

“One foot there, and then swing your leg over–”

She did. Her dress was as cold and wet as his, but with her plastered to his back, he felt the warmth of her body soaking throat. “Okay, you’re just going to move with me. We’re not going to go super fast or anything.” He moved her arm from his shoulder to his side. “Arms around my middle, but you can put your hands to the tank when we brake.” He moved her hand so she’d feel the metal of the gas tank right in front of him.

Vera nodded against his back.

Felix smiled, revved, and pulled away from the traffic jam. Once he wove through it, they were on the bridge without a single car on their side. In another situation, he would have loved to open up on that stretch. Even without his own gear, he would have, but not with her on the back. They took it easy and, honestly, he was glad to stretch those minutes with her. Her arms curled around his waist and her face pressed to his back, hiding from the wind.

It definitely didn’t help with the cold, but the air was drying them out. For a while they had the sun too, before slipping into the deep of Everton, where the buildings seemed to always shadow the streets. He’d been born and raised in that city. He knew the streets like the back of his hand, had spent a hundred nights tracing them on his bike. It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t considered taking a longer route to her destination just to drag this out a bit longer, but he didn’t do it.

Felix pulled up right along the sidewalk in front of the glamorous entrance to The Valdin. The doormen eyed him warily but Felix flashed a smile and a nod like they were old friends. They were not.

He put the kickstand down and a sneaker to the pavement. Offered her his arm, he twisted a little to the side to try to help her off the bike. He was almost surprised when she hung onto him to get down. Vera had that ‘I don’t need help’ aura. He’d known her for maybe an hour now in possibly the craziest circumstance, and how many times had she told him she could handle shit herself? She could swim, she’d said. She could get herself to the Valdin.

Felix hadn’t doubted any of that for a second, but it made it real damn clear she wasn’t used to getting help. He just wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t expected it, thought it came with strings, or didn’t trust others to follow through. Whatever it was, his heart thumped hard when she took his arm and used it to steady herself when she got off the bike and back onto her own feet on the sidewalk.

Vera took a breath and smoothed her dress, clutching at that little not-a-purse of hers.

Felix smiled, gaze flicking over her again. Recently dipped in the bay, but still gorgeous. “I have to say, you don’t look like a delivery girl.”

When her gaze shot to his, there was fire in her eyes–a light there in the dark of them that made him feel warm too. The corner of her mouth twisted in a little smirk. “Thanks for the ride, Felix.”

He nodded, trying to hide how much he liked the sound of his name on her lips. “How are you getting home?”

She shrugged and looked up the street toward the subway. “I can jump the turnstile and take my chances.”

He grinned. Would she really? The idea of this woman, in her expensive though damp dress, no shoes and no purse, running from subway security… “I can wait.”

Vera looked surprised. She huffed a small laugh to hide it. “I can get myself home.”

He grinned. There it was again. “I have no doubts about that,” Felix assured. “I just want to be the one you use to get there.”

Her eyes flared a little, unreadable but definitely something worth knowing. With a nod she took a step back. “I won’t be long, but if you have to go–go.”

Felix nodded and watched her turn. Somehow she still walked up to that entrance like she owned the place. The doorman looked surprised by the state of her but didn’t question her, grabbing the door and welcoming her in.

He took a huge breath and let it out, mind reeling at last over his morning. Felix took off his gloves, dropping them on the tank while he grabbed his phone. Thank god it was mounted on the bike when he decided to jump into that car. He called a friend, keeping his eye on the door. He had no idea what she was doing in there. It was one in the afternoon on a weekday.

Elio answered on the third ring, voice groggy and somehow even more gravel than usual. “What?”

“I need a favor.”

“Are you in jail?”

“No.”

“Then fuck off.”

Felix laughed. “I was in an accident.”

He heard Elio sitting up. “What? Where? Are you at the hospital?”

“No. I’m good.”

“Your bike?”

“No. No, I wasn’t in the accident. I mean, technically…”

“Fucking hell, Felix. What happened?”

“This car was going over the railing and I jumped in… Anyway, I lost my helmet and now I’m sort of playing chauffeur to the woman that was in the car.”

“This is the stupidest–”

“I’m in front of The Valdin. I can literally see your building from here. Can you bring me a couple helmets?”

He groaned. “Come get them yourself.”

“Can’t. If I’m not here when she comes back out, she’ll leave.”

“So, let her leave?”

Felix shook his head even though Elio couldn’t see him. No. No fucking way. He had jumped into a car crash today and it wasn’t even close to the most interesting part of his day. “She was in the car crash. She’s got no shoes, man. Don’t be heartless.”

“You gave her a ride to Valdin?” he asked. He was getting up. Felix bounced a little, feeling like he’d definitely won this. “No helmets?”

“I didn’t have a lot of choices. I had to take mine off when we went underwater and it’s still stuck in that taxi.”

“This is the dumbest fucking story you’ve ever told me…”

“I owe you! You’re saving my life right now!”

The other guy grunting something that sounded a lot like a curse and then hung up.

Felix grinned, quickly sending a text to his boss. 

-can’t come in today

-car crash

-not hurt but can’t make it

-can you rebook my clients? I’ll call you tonight and tell you everything

He frowned at his own series of texts and then shot off a <3 at the end.

After a couple minutes his phone buzzed.

-if you don’t call me tonight you’re fired

Felix nodded at the screen like that was fair and then it plinged again.

-and don’t send me <3. It’s 🍆 or nothing asshole

He laughed, about to reply when he spotted a familiar silhouette stalking the sidewalk toward him. He got off the bike. He’d known Elio would come through, in part because he always did but mostly just because Elio was the safety friend–the one that got pissed if they didn’t wear helmets or did what he considered to be dumb shit.

The doorman, who had been keeping an eye on Felix, looked even more skeptical when Elio joined him on the sidewalk. Tattoos and sneakers–they weren’t exactly the usual clientele for The Valdin. Although, if Elio wanted to take up residence there, he could. But the big guy was more likely to sleep on a park bench than step through those doors.

He looked like he really had just rolled out of bed, hair messed up on one side and eyes half-lidded. He’d pulled on joggers and a hoodie like he was definitely going back to bed as soon as this bullshit was handled.

Felix wasn’t a small man, but Elio was almost a head taller than him and seemed to have a hundred different frowns to express all of his levels of annoyance and disinterest. This one was tinged with surprise and disapproval. “You really got into a car falling off the bridge?” he asked, handing him one of the helmets he was carrying. He also had what looked like a hoodie slung over one big shoulder.

“It was before the bridge,” Felix explained.

Elio huffed, giving him the second helmet. “All this to get a date?”

Felix laughed. “Yes, I jumped into a car crash just to get a woman to hang out with me.” He’d jumped in because someone had to–because she was a person and she was alone and about to go over the edge. Everything since that had been about the steel in her spine and the fire in her eyes. She had something–she was someone–and he wanted to know a little more. Plus, there was just no way he was going to drive away and not know if she made it home or not.

His friend slung the hoodie off his own shoulder and onto Felix’s. “You left this at my place.” He turned and started away again.

“You could have loaned me one of yours so I’d have two!” Felix griped for fun.

Elio raised one hand to flip him off while still walking away. He was still on the sidewalk, a block away, when Vera came back out.

She didn’t have her little not-a-purse anymore, but she did have a wad of cash in her palm. Felix caught the moment she saw him and that flash of surprise. She really thought he’d leave her there. There wasn’t an ounce of expectation that he’d be waiting–but there was a flash of joy that seemed to surprise her as much as it lit his heart on fire.

Biting the inside of her lip to try to bring down her own smile, she walked over to him.

He put one of the helmets on the seat of his bike. “Okay… I don’t want you to take this wrong, but I feel like I need to check. No offense, just asking–”

She grinned up at him. “Oh, this is going to be good…”

Felix couldn’t resist asking. He’d driven her to the most expensive hotel in the city for a vague appointment where she’d gone in with a bag and come out without it. “Are you by chance a drug dealer or a hooker?”

She lit up with amusement. Thank god.

“You have to tell me,” he doubled-down. “If I’m your muscle, I want a cut.”

She nodded, still smiling, and tucked the wad of cash down the front of her dress, securely into her bra. “I didn’t ask you to stay, though…”

“You did not,” he agreed and held out the hoodie. Her arms were goosebumped from the breeze and their dip in the sea.

Vera took a step closer, smiling like she was trying not to when she accepted the hoodie and pulled it on. 

Felix close the distance to help fix the hood, straightening it out.

“Where did you get the helmets?” she asked, noticing them.

“Bikes have secret compartments for all our extra helmets, didn’t you know?”

She smiled again, that sly little one in the corner of her mouth.

He liked that one. He also really liked her in his hoodie. “Any other sketchy deliveries we need to make before we get you home?”

The smile dropped. She looked at him like she was trying to decide something–or figure something out. He sort of wished she would just ask, because Felix felt like he’d tell her anything she wanted to know. “Since you waited around… Any chance you’d take me to Westbank?”

Felix beamed. “Are you asking me to go to the mall with you?”

She laughed and shrugged somewhere deep inside that hoodie. “I guess I am, yeah… I mean, I need to get a new phone. You could just drop me off there if you’ve got someplace to be–”

“No. Nowhere to be. I am happy to get you to the mall.” He held up the second helmet. “But you’re wearing this.”

She frowned skeptically at the helmet. “It looks like it’ll mess up my hair…”

“Sweetheart, the ocean messed up your hair. The helmet is going to ensure your brain stays where it’s supposed to be.”

Vera took the helmet. “How about you just don’t crash?”

Felix was so close to swearing he never would–not with her on the bike–because he’d rather go off that bridge again, alone, in winter than see her hurt. But he wouldn’t lie to her. “I’ll do my best, but you’re wearing the helmet.”

Vera seemed to consider it for a moment before nodded. “Okay, but only because you looked hot in the helmet.”

Felix grinned, not pointing out that he looked hot without it too. He helped her put it on, laughing at her little complaints while he buckled it. She looked cute with the helmet.

[writhingleviathan]

It's been a long while since I drew a person and physically.

Here's William. I haven't drawn him for so long. He looks so different, lol.

[boarloved-art]

lil continuation to this post bc it haunted me...!! save me wangxian clothes shopping montage!!!

oh lan wangji ur excuses to flirt with and tease wwx at the beginning r so important to me...........

[branmer]

also i did a little doodle of neroon being the delightful minbari centre in a marcus/stephen sandwich as a break from work drawing

[moe-broey]

Down time...

Just some VERY messy quick doodles. But it's soooo important to me.... bite bite kill kill bite chew gnaw chomp kill maim murder

+ some extra expressions I like enough to post (but please look away this is private........... like you don't really See Anything/it's cropped out, just suggestive LMFAO)

Mostly just bc of Moe tbh. I like how silly it is LMFAO

[arvoze]

what the ever