โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ ๐ค๐ข๐ต๐ค๐ฉ โ โ ๐ฎ๐ฆ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ ๐ช๐ง โ โ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ โ โ ๐๐๐ฃ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ
๐บ๐ฑ๐ป๐ถ
Joined September 2026
- Tweets213
- Following98
- Followers120
- Likes1.5K
โ
โ โโโ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
โ
โ
โ โ around him inch by inch. All of it replaced by the long, deep, almost reverent way he fills him, until the air leaves his lungs in one long, broken give.
"Keep saying my name like that. I want to hear it break when I'm all the way in."
โ
โ
โ โ slicking himself in their heat, once, twice, letting Baizhu feel the slow drag of every inch that's coming.
"You wanted every surface, yeah?"
He rasps against the doctor's throat, voice rougher now. Then he pushes, slow, the tight clutch of them parting โ
โ
โ Two fingers sink in, crook, soaked and clenching and more than ready. Then they're gone, silk shoved aside, and he's lining himself up with a muttered curse. But he doesn't push in. Not yet. He drags the length of himself through the wet seam of them, โ
โ
โ
โ One hand abandons their thigh, sliding between them, fingers slipping through soaked silk until they find bare, wet skin. The groan that leaves him is low and filthy, he doesn't bother hiding it.
"Gods, look at you.. So pretty when you beg, doc."
โ
โ
โ The smirk finds its way back slower this time. He tips his head into the hand in his hair and lets it stay there a moment longer than pride would allow.
"All of that," he murmurs against skin, "And you're still talking. Here I thought I was the dramatic one."
โ
โ
โ The name lands like a blade between the ribs, and for a heartbeat, the smirk is gone. Ajax. Twice. Soft, ruined, pressed to his temple like he was something sacred.
He's been called worse by better men, but never that. Never ๐ญ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ that.
โ
โ
โ Bold of you to give orders.
( His voice drops into something
rougher, edged with a grin. )
But fine, since you asked so nicely.
( His hand came up to curl around the
back of the puppet's neck, thumb
pressing under his jaw. )
โ
โ
โ That's what I like to hear.
( He signals the bartender down
with two fingers, grin sharp. )
So, what's your poison?
โ
โ
โ ( He huffs a quiet laugh, water
still tracing his collarbone. )
Relax, I'm not going to pounce
on you for handing me a towel.
( His eyes flick up, glinting. )
But for the record, I came here
soaked, on purpose.
โ
โ
โ You're doing a pretty good job
of doing that for me right now.
( Water beads at his collarbone,
he doesn't move, simply watching
him, half-lidded. )
You're not very subtle.
โ
โ
โ ( He accepts the shirt, but lets it
hang from his fingers, unmoving,
a smirk curling at the corners of
his mouth. )
You sure you want me dressed?
โ