#sky ily

[trashbag-baby666]

John’s Bad Patient (worse than the pony who kicked him in the balls three years ago)

equine therapy au

For my beloved pooki ooki @skyyguy

c/w: mentions of previous gunshot wounds (healed)

"Damnit Buck," rolled out of John's mouth as he walked into the stables. He finished stuffing his stethoscope into his satchel, his feet picking up over to where Gale continued trying to go about getting the saddle off of Star. He could tell all of his weight was balanced onto his right by the awkward position he stood in. Awkwardly, leaning into the horse's hip he tried dragging the saddle off of her.

"Sit," John commanded, upturning a bucket right besides Gale and pushing him down. John grabbed the saddle off of her and returned it to its spot in the tack room. He didn't have the energy to argue with him today on why he should be in bed healing and not out here reopening his scars.

"Wish you would've told me you were comin' out here."

"Wuddoes' it matter to you, John?"

"I just spent the last half an hour trying to find you." John squeezed the handle of the brush tight as he began to brush the horse down, "Scared he came back to finish his job."

Gale held silent, his gaze dropping down to his unfamiliar dirtied fingernails. He hadn't been out on a ride in a month and he thought he finally, maybe he had broken through Johns close watch. He didn't even understand why he chose to stay. John didn't owe him a goddamn thing and Gale made sure to remind him that. He felt weird having his boyfriend? Was that what they even were? Taking care of him after his ex's attempted hit on him failed.

"Didn't know if you were going to come back? Someone's gotta take care of the horses, been doin' it by myself since granddad passed." Gale forced himself to stand up, ignoring the burning pain rushing down his leg as he stood up.

"Just wait a minute goddamnit! Sit back down!" John's voice rang through and echoed between his ears. He dropped down onto the up-turned bucket and his head went to his hands. His stomach twisted into a knot and his breaths began more and more irregular.

He hoped John was too distracted again to notice his panic beginning to surge through him.

He breathed in deep trying to let the familiar smell of the barn and the sounds of the soft radio infiltrate him. He began curling and uncurling his sock cladded toes, feeling the familiar fabric.

You're alright, he silently reminded himself through gritted, labored breathing.

"Buck?" John's voice caused him to flinch away and cower further down when he saw John's focused gaze, "Hey, hey I'm sorry for raising my voice. What's going on?"

Gale could feel his body wracking in shakes as he held his hands over his face, scared if he opened his eyes he'd be greeted with a slap. "No."

"Okay, we don't gotta talk about it. But I do think we should get you inside, I even threw some more logs on the fire."

"Go! Just go!" Gale pleaded through quiet sobs, his brain in and out of crisis mode. He kept forgetting the daunting figure standing over him was John and not Martin.

"I can't leave you out here," John said gently. He crouched down beside Gale, his presence steady and calm. "Look, we can sit here as long as you need. Just breathe with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow."

Gale tried to match John's breathing, focusing on the rhythm. The panic began to recede, leaving him exhausted and fragile. He opened his eyes, glancing at John through tear-streaked lashes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," John reassured him, placing a comforting hand on Gale's back. "Let's get you inside. We'll take it one step at a time, alright?"

With John's support, Gale stood up again, leaning heavily on him as they made their way out of the stable. The warmth of the fire awaited them, a small comfort in the midst of Gale's turmoil.

Gale reluctantly let John get him comfortable into his recliner, although he wishes he'd stop piling blankets onto him, "Trying to stop my breathin'?"

"Trying to not let you freeze." John pressed a warm kiss into Gale's forehead, his view of the snow topped trees sending them shivering, "Do you want some hot cocoa?"

"Coffee?"

"Y'know it's almost-"

"I want coffee," Gale insisted, his tone brooking no argument. He didn't care about the time. Right now, he couldn't take any clients until he was healed up. He didn't have a job to be up for if he slept in all day from being up all night on coffee.

"Alright, I'll get you your damn coffee," John said with a sigh, heading to the kitchen. The familiar sounds of John preparing the coffee were a strange comfort to Gale. He closed his eyes, trying to let the warmth of the blankets, the crackling fire, and the sound of the dogs nails clicking ease his tension.

As the rich aroma of brewing coffee filled the room, Gale found himself drifting into a haze of half-formed memories and fleeting thoughts. The attack, the hospital, John's unwavering presence—they all swirled together in a confusing mix. He tried to focus on the positive: the smell of coffee, the warmth of the fire, Gilbert's head in his lap, and the knowledge that he wasn't alone.

John returned, carefully balancing a steaming mug. "Here you go, one cup of coffee, with a splash of milk and sugar, just the way you like it."

Gale took the mug with a grateful nod, savoring the warmth seeping through his fingers. He took a sip, letting the strong, bitter taste ground him. "Thanks," he muttered, feeling a bit more like himself with each sip.

-

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Taglist: @austeenbootler @coastiewife465 @executethyself35 @slowsweetlove

[dotcircledot]

[charmercharm3r]

writing minho is just so fun i can’t explain it! he’s so versatile?? and like his personality flips so quickly sometimes that he’s just every fanfic authors dream (no i’m definitely not drooling).

shhh, them leaving minho to walk alone on the red carpet was foul😭 i just recently watched an edit of them teasing him when his ears go all red and i think it’s the cutest thing i’ve ever seen. i can’t help stop someone take my laptop away

Can I make a request? Lee Know being a soft dom and possessive with a brat gf. They had an argument, but later meet up at an event. She wore a shoooort dress that barely covers her butt just to get to him and she gets punished when the get home. The brain rot is real >.<

I'm so sorry this took almost a month...it's been a loooong December. hopefully this is worth the wait!

Angels in Bodycons

LMH

Masterlist

wc: 5.2k

warnings: smut, sexual explicit content, dom!minho, angry sex?, orgasm denial, use of toys, handcuffs, masturbation (m), cumshots, reader is a brat, mean nicknames (slut), jealousy?, also fluff sprinkled in there

-

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” Minho wasn’t budging. It was the same argument about the same dress every time. He loved it and despised it, the glossy black satin was perfectly shaped to your body and bunched slightly at the hips, accentuating your curves. The sweetheart neckline was lined with lace, he couldn’t pry his eyes away. The only other place he ventured to stare at was the decreasing length, your legs completely exposed and your ass just barely covered. Which was the exact reason Minho refused to let you leave the house wearing it.

“You’re sounding a bit possessive there, babe. It’s my body.” You weren’t supposed to be getting ready for another few hours, hair messy and face bare as you reached into your top to adjust your breasts so they filled the cups nicer.

Minho was supposed to be attending another red carpet event and he was allowed a plus one— not that anyone knew. Dating in his profession is, after all, forbidden. No one needed to know anyways, but having to keep you a secret made him all the more anxious to bring you with him. He couldn’t hold your hand or sling an arm around your waist when someone was getting just a bit too close. Being dressed moderately was the one thing he asked of you during times like these.

“No, it’s our body. Because you’re mine,” he stood from his spot on the bed, coming up behind you and kissing your cheek. Just as he did, he slyly unzipped the back of your dress.

The sweet gesture was just a diversion from his words that you processed a second too late. He was already making his way into the bathroom when you spoke again. “My body is my body, Min.” Bathroom door just slightly ajar, you knew he could hear you.

You stepped out of the dress and hung it, displaying it on the bedroom door. “Sure, of course it’s your body, baby,” he called back. “But this is a big event. I don’t want you to embarrass me by wearing something that looks like you just walked out of a love motel.”

Goosebumps raised against your bare skin, temperature suddenly running hot even though you were just in panties and a bra. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin by his words. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Your voice raised.

Minho kicked the bathroom door open a bit wider, barely peeking at you from over his shoulder as he picked up his shaving cream and razor. “Don’t make that face. You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t,” you crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed now. “Explain it to me in a way my tiny hooker mind can understand.”

“I never said you were—“

“You didn’t have to.”

“Babe, c’mon. I don’t have time for this now. You know how I feel about the dress. End of story.”

He continued on with his routine, mumbling something about having to get to the company for hair and makeup before going to the event. You sat in your shared bed with the covers up to your neck, almost stewing in petty anger. The conversation about the dress ended the same way every time, there was no winning when Minho was this stubborn.

The goosebumps didn’t fade as you watched him scurry around grabbing what he needed. His words replayed in your mind and only added to your growing temperament. It made you feel small, humiliated, and self conscious. Is that really what he thought of you? Was that the real reason he didn’t want to be seen in public with you?

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with me now? If we get there early, they might have time to do your makeup, too.” Minho offered as he slipped on his shoes.

You hadn’t moved an inch since covering up in bed. “No. Don’t want your hooker girlfriend to embarrass you.” He stopped dead in his movements, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

“Please, Y/N. You’re not a hooker and you‘re not an embarrassment.”

He was about ready to leave when you muttered to yourself in anger, “not an embarrassment ‘cus I technically don’t exist.”

“I heard that.” Entirely fed up, Minho almost walked out the door right then. But even through his negative emotions, he made his way to the bedroom to see you off. Coming up to your side of the bed, he leaned in to kiss you. When you didn’t kiss him back, Minho clicked his tongue and grumbled, “fine. Don’t bother coming if you’re going to be like that. See if I care.” And he left.

It had been hours since you last spoke to your boyfriend. Fighting with him was the one thing you hated most, it was tiring and unnecessary. But this was an ongoing issue. If he hated the dress that much, he would’ve thrown it away and not told you. Instead, he ogles you in it and promises to rip it off your body while simultaneously threatening to burn it if you dared to wear it outside the confines of your house. His last parting words sparked what would be the beginning of your worst idea yet.

Pretty, coquette-esque makeup, hair neatly styled, the only thing missing was your dress. The one Minho specifically wanted shredded called out to you. It was screaming for you to put it on and see if he cares. That’s exactly what you did.

You showed up to the event in the dress, adding some sheer tights for the littlest bit of decency possible. You disregarded all the looks you got from strangers as you entered the building and did as told so that you could get in as an artist plus one. Contrary to Minho’s thoughts on the dress, his stylists had another opinion. Befriending them back when you first started dating had since boosted your ego exponentially, they were always kind and supportive. Especially now as you spotted them along the side of the large ceremonial room. You stuck with them, talking about anything and everything as you scanned the crowd. “He’s over there,” one of them mentioned, motioning with her eyes towards your boyfriend and his group members.

They were huddled around their table like a pack of high school boys, laughing amongst themselves when one of them tossed a half empty water bottle into the air and landed straight up. On the far side of the table that faced you, you made eye contact with Chan, who discreetly nudged your boyfriend next to him. Minho shot his head in the direction of his friend's eyes and landed on you. For a moment, he smiled brightly. Then his gaze tracked down and the smile faded. Slumping back in his chair you could see him purse his lips and tongue at his cheek in annoyance.

The displeased expression on his face made you feel vulnerable, heart shaking in your chest a little as you nervously tug the end of the dress down. Perhaps the sudden change in your attitude drew too much attention, the same stylist put her hand on your shoulder and said sweetly, “you look good. Don’t worry about him.” You gave her an apologetic smile.

It was a few more hours of mingling with the hair and makeup group, whom you’d grown accustomed to hanging out with at these events. The few of you found an open table and were chit chatting when someone came up behind you, leaning over your shoulder and saying, “hi, are you new? I’ve never seen you around before.”

The voice was one you didn’t recognize, turning to find a man. He didn’t seem to be dressed as the other idols in flashy clothes but rather a simple dark blue suit. He introduced himself and took the empty seat next to you. Over the course of a few minutes of talking to him, you found out he was a stylist for another group, to which your friends welcomed him happily.

What you didn’t see was your boyfriend boring holes into the back of your head from across the room. If anyone outside of your group had any idea of your relationship, they’d see the steam coming out of his ears.

By the time the end of the night rolled around, you’d only glanced at Minho a handful, each time he was already looking at you with clear anger. The male stylist next to you leaned over to you once more and whispered, “you look amazing.”

Your eyes went wide for a moment, caught off guard. An unknown blush creeped upon your cheeks, “thank you,” was all you’d said in response.

But Minho could see everything. He could see the stranger lingering a little too closely for a little too long, he could see your lips smiling and moving overly enthusiastically, he could see you getting flustered at whatever it was the man was telling you. He watched your little group stand and start to leave for the night. The man put his hand on the small of your back and stayed by your side until it was time for you to part ways. In the minute it took to say goodbye, you never once adjusted the length of your dress, ass practically on display for the entirety of the industry to see. 

All the while, Minho did his best to keep a cool demeanor. But his friends were walking too slow for his liking, ultimately taking the lead and striding perhaps a bit too fast for any normal idol to be taking when parting the spotlight.

You were still conversing with some of the other staff when the group walked into the lounge room. Already stripping off his costume blazer, Minho silently made his way over to you and handed the coat to the stylist, shooing her away as politely as he possibly could in the heat of his anger. “Hey baby,” you whispered, smiling sweetly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He backed you against the wall, keeping his voice low.

“Supporting you? Talking with my friends?” You tilted your head up, “you look great, so cute in white.” The tips of your fingers played with the hem of his button up.

Minho grabbed your hand to stop your fidgeting, gaze hard on your face and dead serious. It was hard to keep up the playful attitude when you could feel the heat of his feverish skin. Your smile faded, meeting his stare. Subconsciously you pulled down the hem of your dress, arms coming up to cover your chest. The way he was looking at you now wasn’t your boyfriend, it wasn’t loving or sweet— instead replaced with exasperation and a bone chilling void that took over his usual warm eyes. He didn’t need to say anything else, only barely furrowing his eyebrows and letting the grip on your hand loosen slightly.

He didn’t need to say anything else when you moved towards his spare change of clothes and took his hoodie and draped it over yourself. He didn’t need to say anything as you pulled your dress down as far as it would go. He didn’t need to say anything as you waited for him to be allowed to leave and ordered a cab as soon as possible. Even as the two of you made your way home in silence, his hands in his lap but knees laid against yours, Minho didn’t say anything. 

The walk from the outside of your building up to your front door felt both too slow and not slow enough, the bubbling nervousness in your gut as your boyfriend threw his keys onto the coffee table and ran a hand through his neatly styled hair finally burst. Word vomit.

“I— I know you’re mad and I’m sorry for not doing as you wanted but I don’t regret wearing the dress. You might not like me in it but I felt pretty for once! In a room full of beautiful people, I felt pretty and I felt confident, then you look at me like you’re disgusted by me and it makes me feel like shit. But damn it, I felt pretty. So I’m sorry for embarrassing you but I’m not sorry for feeling pretty.” No, not word vomit. Completely and utter annihilation of any waning conviction you might’ve had.

By the time you’d caught your breath, Minho was standing with his hands crossed over his chest and eyes blinking blankly at you. He didn’t even so much as breathe loud enough for you to hear. Silence. Deafening silence.

“Say something,” you pleaded, voice cracking as your throat burned and eyes stung with pressing tears.

But Minho didn’t. Instead, he dropped his eyes down from your face towards your chest that was covered by his hoodie. In a blink, he was standing before you in the middle of your living room and was stripping the garment away. Hardly touching you, his hands spun you by the waist to turn around, gently peeling the straps off your shoulders and unzipping the dress. When it fell to the floor, he moved onto the stockings, taking hold of the waistband and ripping the flimsy material in half so it joined the pile at your feet.

You stood there quiet and self conscious. You knew he was looking at you, up and down, arms coming to cover your bare chest once again. The lacy black panties did extremely little to hide the remaining parts of you, your legs pressing together.

“You think,” Minho’s gentle voice whispered in your ear, “I'm disgusted by you?” You didn’t trust yourself to speak, only nodding and shutting your eyes tightly.

“Stupid baby,” tone of voice mockingly sweet, your skin raising goosebumps as he reached around to caress your forearms. The feeling of his shirt against your naked back made you tense up, but also fold at the heat of his body behind yours. “You were the most beautiful one in the room.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, slowly pulling your hands away from your chest to leave you entirely exposed. Your breathing became more labored as he let you go only to trail his fingers back up your arm towards your neck, tangling his fingers into your hair. You almost let your guard down at how kind he was being, shuddering when you felt his lips pressing at the junction of your shoulder. And in a split second, Minho tugged your head back by the roots of your hair and latched onto your neck with his teeth. It made you gasp and emit a broken groan.

You could do nothing but ball up your fists and arch your back into him, do nothing but take the harshness of his bruising teeth. The few seconds he’d take to lap his tongue over the raw skin would transmit into his grip in your hair by pulling tighter. His free hand came back between your legs, hooking his fingers under the thin strap covering your cunt and pulling hard. The arousal-soaked fabric rubbed at your clit, not nearly enough for pleasure but just enough for minor relief. There were so many things happening at once, your brain felt hazy and it was only getting cloudier. You didn’t realize you were rutting your hips into nothing but the tightened panties until he let go, moving to tug you by the hip flush against his. Ass slamming into his clothed erection, your brain screamed at you to stay still, stay still and maybe he’ll be nice.

No, you couldn’t. Adrenaline was coursing through your body and it took over your foggy, horny brain. You rubbed against his crotch, hoping to entice him into taking them off. But he didn’t, all Minho did was let you writhe in his grasp and tease yourself over his clothes. Then, raising his hand from your hip, it came back down and collided with your skin. Your back bent at an almost bone breaking angle. He did it again, and once more, slapping the same reaction out of you until you were gasping for air.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t tie you up and punish you until you're begging me to stop.”

His breath was hot against your cheek, if you were just a bit more in your head you wouldn’t have caught that his chest was heaving as heavily as yours.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

Minho clicked his tongue, “not good enough, princess.”

Like on a leash he tugged you in the direction of your bedroom behind him, being thrown into the center of the bed and taking off your panties. Instantly, he stole the garment from you and dangled it from the tip of his finger. Minho loomed over you from the edge of the bed, tall and daunting. In a whisper, “are you sure you want this?” Following his eyes to the panties, you nodded shyly. “I need you to use your words, baby. I’m angry but I don’t want to hurt you… too much. So speak while I’m still letting you.”

Sitting up on your elbows and legs spreading, “I want this.” An unreadable smirk disguised as deviance and mischief crept upon his face.

“I won’t stop. You know the word.”

The word in question; catnip– because why else would you be thinking about catnip while he was torturing you unless it became too much? Or three taps onto him or any hard surface that could get his attention. Minho didn’t need to repeat the safeword aloud for you to know what he meant.

When you nodded, he walked around the side of the bed purposefully. He still towered over you as he reached down to caress your cheek, the only moment of saccharine he’d shown you since that morning before he left. And in a split second, the same hand wrapped around the back of your neck and your panties were being shoved into your mouth. The taste of your arousal was more of a turn on than you’d ever care to admit, but Minho knew you liked it. He knew your limits and had every intention of pushing you to the very brink.

Cunt still exposed, mouth full, you watched and waited as your boyfriend reached under the bed for his black box of goodies. He shook it in his hands, the rattling of toys only making your pussy clench in anticipation. Warmth shot through you as he dug around in it, eventually finding what he was looking for and tilting his head in your direction. “You’ve pushed it too far tonight, princess. Don’t these look too appealing?” The clinging of his favorite gadget made your eyes grow wide. Shiny silver handcuffs, not even lined because he enjoyed being able to reminisce.

Minho dangled them the same way he did your panties then unlocked them, setting the key onto the bedside table. Still fully clothed, he manhandled you onto your stomach and hiked your ass into the air. He was rough in the way he forced your head into the mattress and locked your arms behind your back. There was hardly any room for your wrists to move without the cuffs digging into your skin, only enough to not cut the circulation. Even though he explicitly said he wouldn’t go easy, it wasn’t until you tried to tug on the bondage did it really sink in how badly you’d fucked up tonight.

He’d left you in this compromising position for a split second and left the room, coming back with your dress in hand. You could see him over your shoulder toss it onto the lounge chair in the corner of the room that was perfectly placed in your line of vision. Wordlessly, Minho reached into the black box again, not allowing you to see what he pulled out. But you couldn’t take the silence anymore, attempting to speak but muffled by the panties in your mouth. With a sigh, he pulled the gag from your mouth for just a moment.

“Say what you wanna say. Last chance.” He peered at you with shadowed eyes, not entirely the same way he did in the dressing room but nowhere near your boyfriend’s usual kind demeanor. Stoic, stern, horny beyond belief but the need to prove a point much greater than the straining in his pants.

“Talk to me.” Your voice cracked, weary but prepared for whatever he had in store. Minho’s eyes softened for just a second. “Please. Talk to me.” He nodded just once before gently pushing the panties back into your mouth.

The buzzing sound of a vibration filled the tense room, your ass swaying in the air in response. It was completely involuntary, you were no stranger to those sounds. It made you clench around nothing again, cunt puffy and untouched and so desperate.

Without warning, Minho shoved the vibrator into your clit, dull thrum just enough to make your body jolt forward and push your face further into the sheets. Your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms, the stimulation already proving to be more than you anticipated. In fact, it was hardly anything, Minho was hardly giving you anything and yet you were mewling like a cat in heat.

He stood on his knees behind you, caging your legs between his as he held the toy. “Close your legs, slut.” His voice was rough, condescending as he forced your legs shut with his own and entrapping the toy between them. The nickname made you shiver along with the added vibrations throughout your lower half. “If you let go, you won’t be cumming tonight.”

He wanted you to hold the vibrator between your legs, but it was already becoming more difficult to do, especially when he raised the speed by two. It was slightly more than a thrum now, making your muscles clench and body twitch. 

You moaned into the fabric, blinking away the painful and pleasurable tears. Minho moved towards the seat with your dress, turning his back to you and picking it up. “Why can’t you just listen to me? Why do you make me punish you?” The sound of his zipper opening and fumbling fabric stood out between your own lewd moans.

Neck and shoulders already aching, you tried to get a better look at him but as you moved the vibrator shifted. It pressed into your clit at a different angle, a better angle that had your body going stiff at the coil tightening in your gut.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare,” Minho ordered, slumping onto the chair. His cock was out, pants down his thighs and your dress in hand. “Keep looking at me, princess.” The vibrations started to feel stronger and not enough at the same thing, the constant stimulation leading you down a dangerous path.

“You’re always pretty– always so damn pretty it hurts.” You did your best to breathe and force your orgasm back, but your request for him to keep speaking made it hard. Slowly, his free hand came down to his dick, just holding it straight up and tightening his grip around the base. “Do you know how hard it is,” Minho reached down to his balls, “to watch you be so pretty and I can’t do a damn thing about it?”

Bringing your dress to his nose, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled and his eyes rolled closed. “And you smell so good. I bet that guy could smell you, too. I almost yelled across the room to get him to back up.” You watched as he stroked his cock slowly, up and down while your body spasmed in restrained pleasure. “I saw the way you blushed, princess. Did he compliment you? Is that where all that fake courage to talk back to me came from?”

The sudden surge of your high nearing made you whine louder, but fell upon deaf ears as Minho continued. “Yeah, that’s what it was. You’re a little praise slut. My praise slut. Do I not make you feel pretty, angel?” Fending off your orgasm and answering him was the hardest thing you’d faced so far, shaking your head and your muffled words turning into a whimper. “No, I treat you so well. The one time I ask you not to do something, you do it anyway. This fucking dress. You looked so gorgeous tonight.” You moaned louder, unable to stop the tears from seeping into the mattress as he started to twist his wrist faster.

If you weren’t gagged, Minho would’ve heard you begging like your life depended on it. With how intent he was at keeping eye contact, it very well could’ve. You struggled to keep your body up and the cuffs jingled every time you attempted to pull your wrist apart. Every time your orgasm passed, it rose quicker the next time around. You were stuck in a torturous state of give, give, give, deny. Repeat.

A grin washed across your boyfriend’s face as he watched your muscles tighten to fight the high. He was proud that you even lasted this long, and usually he would never tell you that, opting to show you. But he learned something new when your toes curled as he called you beautiful again. “Never gonna let you wear this fucking dress again,” his hand around his cock sped up, heaving in your lingering scent on the fabric.

Through gritted teeth and the taste of your arousal licked gone, you managed to coherently whimper, “please.”

A loud chuckle rumbled in Minho’s chest as he stood, taking the dress with him to stand at the side of the bed just out of reach– not that you could’ve touched him anyways.

“Asking so nicely after being a brat all fucking night.” The pace of his hand moved subconsciously at the same as your body writhed. “Will you be good? If I let you cum, will you be my good princess again?” You nodded furiously. He laughed, “yeah, you will. Because you’re mine. Your pretty little cunt is mine.”

You tugged at the cuffs harder, using all your strength to keep you from falling over while Minho thrusted into his hand, keeping your dress pressed to his nose. Another repressed orgasm faded and you had lost count of how many passed. You were humiliated, overstimulated, exhausted, sweaty, and touch deprived. To top it all off, your boyfriend was still making fun of you. And you couldn’t even hate it. You couldn’t be mad because it was exactly what you wanted despite feeling all those things.

His cock twitched in his hand, so close to release. Minho reached over and pulled the panties from your mouth, a string of spit following as he tossed it to the floor. Even with the new freedom, you didn’t speak, not wanting to disobey again.

Teeth biting into his bottom lip, Minho moaned, “tell me you love me.”

“I love you. L– love you more than anything.” It was as true as true can be, but it didn’t ease the now painful knot in your stomach tightening, already knowing you won’t be able to cut it loose.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, only yours. I belong to you,” your voice was as shaky as the vibrator pressed to your raw bundle of nerves.

He seemed to like that answer, his hand tightening and focusing on the tip, swiping the precum with his thumb and spreading it around. “You belong to me,” Minho mimicked, “I own this dress. I own you. Only I get to ruin you like I’m going to ruin your slutty little dress.”

“Please, ruin me.”

The tears and drool made your face glossy, enough to push him over the edge, muttering the permission for you to cum just as he did. Minho took one step closer to you, holding the dress beneath his cock as his warm release shot onto your back. The raw crashing orgasm made your body burn white hot, vision go blank, and all your muscles lock. The vibrator dropped from between your legs, unable to take anymore. The second you relaxed, Minho used the key to free you from the cuffs. Every inch of your body was sensitive to the touch, even more when Minho used the dress to clean his cum off your skin. It made you shiver.

Minho fell to his knees as you toppled to the side, finally face to face. His cheeks were decorated with blush, eyes warm brown that were swimming with adoration. “Did so good, princess,” he whispered, kissing your cheek and brushing your sweaty hair from your face.

He knew not to touch you just yet, still too sensitive for anything other than a few kisses. While your body recovered, Minho stripped his clothes and left them in a pile on the floor, tossing the soiled dress along with it. He gathered wet wipes, water, and icy-hot balm for your muscles. By the time he returned, you wanted nothing more than to hold him, eyes closed and still reaching out blindly for him.

“Min,” you dreamily called out, feeling his presence enter the bedroom again.

“I’m here,” he came over to your side again, placing everything on the nightstand and putting the toys to the side for cleaning later. You only groaned and reached out for him again, feeling his hand in your palm and attempted to pull him closer. “Hold on, baby. Let me wipe you down. It’s gonna be cold.” You didn’t even bother bracing yourself, knowing how warm your body ran that after the initial shock, it’d feel good. And you were right. The coolness of the wet wipe was soothing against your raw pussy, almost moaning again at the sensation. Minho laughed, finishing his duties and moving on to making you hydrate after a few minutes of you fighting him on just letting you sleep.

“One more thing. C’mon, you can do it.” His words of encouragement made you fold and let him maneuver you onto your back. You heard the icy-hot bottle open and close, then the bed dipping between your legs and his big hands gently taking hold of your thighs. The slick of the gel made his gliding palms smooth and the tingling feeling easing your tight muscles.

“You really make me feel like a princess,” you mumbled, half way towards sleep. Minho chuckled at your tired expression, bending over and pressing kisses to your stomach. As he finished his routine and climbed into bed next to you, you found the energy to speak again. “I’ll never wear the dress again. And I’m sorry.”

Arm curling over your torso, Minho pulled you closer, back against his chest. He hummed and peppered kisses over your shoulder and neck, “yeah, it’s kinda wrecked now anyways. I’m sorry, too.”

Sleepily giggling, you rolled over and nuzzled into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was comforting. Minho held you as gently as possible, but the lingering worry that he was still upset kept you awake. Through the haze, you prodded the subject.

“We’re good?”

“Oh angel,” he responded immediately, arm coming up to hold your head against his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair, “we’re always good.”

[leons-art-pit]

god i love sky cotl scenery so much

in order they appear: - Realm Gates in Aviary Village - Hidden Forest Entrance - Golden Wasteland Vortex - Starlight Desert (Vault - Little Prince Area) - Campfire Spot in Starlight Desert side area, toward Eden (next to memorial spot)

[linkedin-offficial]

not all are so lucky in the face of calamity.

contrary to popular belief, dark plants do indeed feed off of light, like their more active darkness brethren. these plants naturally emit what could be classified as an "artificial warmth", that feels like and acts like natural warmth from a light source. however, it is not that of course, and is actually spores. dark plants are known to produce spores that would attract creatures that also seek light (like vultures and bats), so they may latch onto the host and spread them further.

if you feel warm while standing next to a dark plant, then it is most likely the plants' spores clinging onto you. a nice and long bath is highly recommended. those who do not heed such a warning, may start to feel ill as time marches on. seek medical attention when possible, or else your light may be at risk.

[jkvjimin]

(144/∞) the perfect nose for butterflies to land on it ♡ cr. @jung-koook

[coatl-cuddles]

More drawpile doodles, but this time MOTH edition

[nebulousbrainsoup]

HAPPY NEW MEMBER DAY!! (ft. ya boi, with a recent promotion ^^)

Members

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Members:

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@jaehunnyy

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[btsjk-biased]

Let's go!

[ video source cr. @jung-koook ]

[upperranktwo]

☆Okkotsu Yūta☆

Happy Birthday Angie ♡ @okkottsus

[starrysvn]

THE WAY I SCREAMED GIGGLED I’M ABSOLUTELY NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS!! AHAHA I’M-

this is my new fav delulu. this- i- yeo AND joong??? dead. gone. buried. heart? combusted. butterflies? in my stomach.

Sky! Are you down for moots games? And if yes who would you ship them with?

Hm... I don't really have a lot of moots ksksks but here goes~

@hwaightme I cannot ship you with anyone other than Seonghwa. Like it's just self-explanatory~ From the way you bring light to the world by being such a kind person to your humour, I totally think hwa would be head over heels for you hehe. You'd also have so much fun just having dates where y'all build lego sets T^T <3 (lowkey also ship you with Yeosang bc... he's an angel and idk but you're just so gentle and protective and Yeo really needs someone like you hehehe)

@justhere4kpop YUNHO. It's what the yuniverse wants too, let's be honest here, and hwo am I to deny what the yuniverse wants? You both are so sunshine and absolute cuties that I can't not ship you with anyone else ksksks~ (I do, however, lowkey also ship you with Mingi bc you're such a sweetheart and I feel that Mingi would love having you around)

@starrysvn ngl I ship you so hard with Yeosang! Idk but I have this inkling that he would be so fascinated and awed when it comes to you! Especially because you know so many languages and I can totally see him asking you questions about what you're working on for uni assignments in the smallest voice ever and I just- *sob* (But also... I definitely ship you with Hongjoong bc of the same reasons ig~ He'd be so fascinated, and I can see y'all bonding over things you know and things you've learnt while on a coffee date)

@bluehwale mhmm... I totally ship you with Seonghwa (sorry San, but Hwa is taking the crown or should I say hwart for this one)~ You're such a sweetheart but also don't let people get away with doing you wrong, so I can totally see Hwa finding you super cool! (But al so Yeosang for the same reasons as @/hwaightme tbh, Yeo would be drawn to your gentle yet protective nature and he'd have heart eyes if you step up and just put someone in their place if they're being an idiot ahaha)

@jaehunnyy Maybe earlier I would have said Hwa... but after our little brainrot in the disc server (fuelled by yours truly and Bai) I totally ship you with both San and Wooyoung. You're such a hardworking and sweet human, but I can totally see you pulling shenanigans with Woo and he'd love that so much! Especially if you indulge in pulling San's leg for fun~

@nebulousbrainsoup You! You are so Hongjoong-coded it is unreal. So like I can see y'all getting along super super well. Y'all would be menaces together, but at least y'all would be the super nicely dressed menaces so~ (Ngl though, bc you are so Joong coded, I also ship you with Seonghwa? Does that make sense? I just idk but I feel you and Hwa would be so good for each other hehehe)

@i-luvsang Totally ship you with Yeosang and it has nothing to do with you @ hehehehe~ Fr like I can see Yeo being head over heels for you bc you're such a sweetheart and Yeo seems like someone who would like a quieter s/o? And he'd LOVE your sense of humor ahaha <3 (Honestly, I low-key ship you with Jongho as well for the previously mentioned reasons!)

Note: I've only included those moots who follow this blog and with whom I have interacted with and I'm sorry if it offends anyone. I apologise in advance if that's the case

[1bibypersecond]

Things You Might Not Know About Viktor

(According to headcanons by one of the show's writers, Amanda Overton)

✨ Viktor got into the Academy thanks to his parents, who saved enough money to buy him a uniform. With it, he pretended to be a student until he caught Heimerdinger's attention. Instead of kicking him out, Heimerdinger made him his assistant. This idea was discarded from being made canon in the series.

✨ It was Viktor who helped Sky get her position as his assistant, as he remembered her and recognized her talent. People from Zaun can enter the Academy since it is technically a meritocracy, but for obvious reasons, it's much harder for them (btw it was Amanda who created Sky!)

✨ Jayce's main reason for removing Heimerdinger was his desire to save Viktor, so his primary speech was a tool to remove him. He wouldn't have done it if Heimerdinger hadn't been against destroying the Hexcore, which is the only hope to cure Viktor.

[fatuismooches]

If Zandik really loved his spouse he would have set a rotating roster of Segments to ensure that they are never alone for too long. All those Segments and no schedule? How dare!

Ciao, anyways so. Several Dadtorre fluffs.

First idea: Dottore having a crisis and thinking that he is a horrible father, Shinji pose and everything on the chair, contemplating the perceived mistakes he did. Meanwhile, his Segments are staring and him judgy *including* his spouse with a dry stare because their child is literally his biggest fan.

Dottore had taken their child up a summit to point out stars, even told the child how they could tell the skies are false. The stars on that direction are suspiciously repeating like the ones behind them - there was a strange thin clearing between the twinkling stars like there were seams going across the sky.

Once you see them, you will never remember what the false sky had looked like before. The child had been fixated on it since, excitedly chattering that they will be the first one to explore those strange seams in the sky after father had showed it to them. They will discover many things like him, just you wait!

Second idea: Dottore insisting that he is NOT spoiling their child—

Omega drags in the 50th custom toy Dottore has made behind him as he says this.

Never in all his centuries of life did Dottore ever see himself becoming a father - it was something so ludicrous that it never once crossed his mind for very obvious reasons, he knew the kind of man he was. It was you who had to gently convince and reassure him that he could be a good father if he truly tried, and you'd be there every step of the way with him. He had doubts, but he decided to listen to your soothing words - you always seemed to be right in these situations anyway. It really is a great thing that he has you... because sometimes he needs some sense put into that stupidly smart yet foolish brain of his.

Sure, Dottore can be awkward and surprisingly clumsy at times when dealing with his child, but his love for his kid is abundantly clear. He's even surprised you quite a few times by taking the initiative, although in the beginning, he was admittedly a bit closed off (perhaps unsure of if he deserved this, or even if his kid deserved a father like him, if he would unwittingly end up rewriting his own childhood of loneliness.) Despite this, your heart swells at how he continues to get closer and closer to his kid, protecting them from the world.

...Which is why it simultaneously upsets and saddens you when Dottore doubts himself. Like... he's one of the smartest people in Teyvat! How is it so hard to see something that's right in front of him?! His child adores him, constantly looking up at him with pleading eyes when he's supposed to be working (he has to pass them to you otherwise he'll give in.) The kid always clings to him and repeats "I love you" like it's as easy as breathing! What does he not get! The segments giving him looks too are especially amusing... he's literally judging himself.

Dottore doesn't go many places in general, and that extends to his kid, but he does like taking them out, otherwise they'd find some way to get out anyway. He'd rather not have them try to trudge through the snow. (Sometimes, he'd wonder if they'd prefer the warmth of Sumeru like he did.) Unsurprisingly he has a tendency to jump at the opportunity to teach his child anything, loving their expression when he passes on knowledge.

The wide eyes, the round 'o' of their mouth in shock, tiny hands grabbing his sleeve for him to go on. It's no surprise his kid's stupefaction is more intense when he drops that the sky they gaze upon every day is fake. No one in their right mind would ever believe that, but his kid trusts him enough to entertain the thought. They have the same thirst for the unknown just like him. He'll make sure they have the space to flourish, even though he does want them to struggle and stumble to discover the answer. Needless to say, he's extremely proud of his kid.

You and the segments don't listen much to Dottore's vehement defenses anymore. It just goes in and out of the ears. Yeah, sure old man, you're not spoiling your kid but every time they have a request or desired upgrade for a toy, you suddenly disappear into your lab and don't come out until it's finished. He swears he doesn't spoil them but sometimes he sneaks them candy from his stash... (Pantalone lets the misuse of funds slide, only because he thinks it's entertaining to see the Doctor soften up a bit, and he gets to be the cool uncle.)

(Also! You're so right about the schedule of segments! He's such an inefficient man! The segments spending time with you = you're happy = a nice rest and recharge for them = more motivation for everyone = more productivity for them all! A fool, truly, he must see that before it's too late! The schedule is posted every month in the lab, the segments are itching for their turn! Do they make bets for each other to steal time slots? ... Maybe.)

[therantingsage]

Very very intrigued by @protectorcraft's fic, a bell chimes somewhere. I never turn down an opportunity to draw a creature-beast, so I tried to figure out monster Siffrin! Probably got a lot of details wrong, but as of right now Siffrin's exact bodyplan is decently ambiguous. I leaned into the dragon part cuz that's my area of expertise.

[xgatheringdust]

i support women's rights but more importantly, i support women's wrongs

[jkvjimin]

KIM TAEHYUNG & JEON JUNGKOOK ↳ BTS: YET TO COME IN BUSAN for @jung-koook ♡