#and then weighting that with how often i watch their content and how much i love them

[fictional-gf]

rin x reader, no warnings, just pure fluff and quite cheesy (maybe a bit ooc idk)

rin has a soft spot for your hair. when you two are alone, he'll often find himself playing with it absentmindedly, especially when you're both relaxing after a long day. whether it's running his fingers through it, gently tucking a strand behind your ear, or just resting his hand on your head, it's his way of feeling close to you. he might not say it often, but these small gestures show how much he cares. it's in these quiet moments that you see the softer side of rin, the one he doesn't show to the world.

after a long day filled with the usual drama and running around, you and rin finally find a moment to unwind together. the apartment is quiet, with only the tv for background noise and soft hum of the air conditioner. the two of you are settled comfortably on the couch, your legs stretched out on the coffee table watching a game together.

you feel rin shift slightly beside you, and you glance over to see him looking at you with a small, almost undetectable smile. he reaches out, his fingers gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. the touch is light, almost hesitant, but it sends a warm, comforting feeling through you.

"long day?" he asks quietly, his voice soft and soothing.

you nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. "yeah, but it's better now."

he doesn't respond with words, but instead, his hand moves to rest on top of your head, his fingers starting to comb through your hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. you close your eyes, letting the gentle motion relax you. it's in moments like these that you see a side of rin reserved from the public, a side that he keeps just for you.

the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of the day slowly melting away. rin's fingers continue soothing their way through your hair, and you find yourself closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the couch, feeling utterly content.

after some time, you feel rin's hand pause, and you open your eyes to see him looking down at you, his expression soft and affectionate. "you know," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, "i don't say it often, but i care about you a lot."

your heart swells at his words, and you reach up to place your hand over his. "i know," you reply, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "and i care about you too."

rin's eyes soften even more, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "thank you, for being here with me," he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment.

you smile, feeling a rush of warmth. "always," you whisper back.

in that quiet, shared moment, surrounded by the comfort of your home and the warmth of each other's presence, you realise that it's these simple, intimate gestures that mean the most. rin might not always be vocal about his feelings, but his actions speak volumes, showing you just how much he cares. And as you sit there together, you can't help but feel grateful for the love you two share, finding solace in the quiet, tender moments that keep you going each day.

an: i hope this wasn't too cringey, i have a crippling fanfiction addiction and zero clue what i'm doing <3

[i-pogchamp]

A day late bc i was so busy yesterday, but it's that time of year again when i update my banner to this year's beloveds... and there were so many to choose from :( i wish i could fit everyone!

[pucksandpower]

Puppy Love

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of the tiny sausage dog who seems to take up every second of your boyfriend’s attention … but it sure feels nice when Leo decides he’s a mama’s boy and Charles gets a taste of his own medicine

You stroll into the spacious living room, eyes narrowing as you spot Charles sitting on the couch, a tiny dachshund puppy curled up contentedly on his lap. “Charles … what is that?”

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Meet Leo, our new puppy.”

You shake your head slowly. “Our puppy? I don’t recall agreeing to get a dog.”

Charles scratches Leo’s velvety ears, eliciting a blissful tail thump. “I know, I know. But look how cute he is! I couldn’t resist.”

Crossing your arms, you try your best to seem stern despite the puppy’s heart-melting adorableness. “We haven’t even discussed this. A dog is a huge responsibility.”

“I’ve thought it through,” Charles insists. “Leo is the perfect breed for our lifestyle — small, low maintenance, and they make amazing companions.” He holds the drowsy pup up with a beseeching expression. “How can you say no to this face?”

You bite your lip, wavering. The puppy really is criminally cute with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long body. “Well … I suppose we could give it a trial run,” you concede. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Charles beams. “Deal! You’ll fall in love, I promise.” He sets Leo back on his lap, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Who’s the best boy? You are!”

Watching them bond, a prickle of jealousy stirs in your chest. Is this what you signed up for — playing second fiddle to a canine?

Over the following days, Charles is utterly smitten, devoting every spare moment to Leo. He takes the pup everywhere, cooing over him incessantly and showering him with treats and toys. Meanwhile, you often find yourself … ignored.

“Charles? Are you listening?” You frown as he doesn’t respond, too busy dangling a chew rope just out of Leo’s reach in a teasing game.

You huff out a sigh. “I guess I’ll just make dinner for one then.”

Finally, he glances up with a distracted, “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”

Throwing up your hands, you stalk into the kitchen, simmering with a childish sense of being replaced in your boyfriend’s affections. Stupid dog ...

A few nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when Charles appears in the doorway, Leo tucked under one arm like a furry purse. “Hey, I need to run out for a bit. Can you keep an eye on Leo?”

“What? Why?” You pause in the middle of removing your makeup.

Charles grimaces. “ I … may have waited until the last minute to get his puppy pads and food refilled.”

You groan. “Fine, I’ll watch him. But just this once!”

“You’re the best, thank you!” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before setting Leo down with a stern, “Be good for your maman, okay?”

He dashes out, leaving you staring at the puppy sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom floor. Leo blinks up at you, tiny tail wagging.

For a long stretch, you simply regard each other in silence. Then, hesitantly, you sink down to sit cross-legged. “Well? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Leo waddles over, sniffing at your knee before clambering into your lap with surprising determination for such a little guy. You tense, unsure what to do as he turns in a few circles and settles with a contented sigh, warm weight pressing against you.

Huh … he’s actually kind of cuddly.

Tentatively patting his silky fur, you admit, “I can see why Charles likes you so much.”

Leo’s only response is a sleepy snuffle, lashes fluttering shut. Despite yourself, you can’t resist smiling at how peaceful he looks, tiny paws twitching as he dreams. Maybe this dog thing won’t be so bad.

That notion lasts until Leo startles awake with a high-pitched yelp, legs scrambling as he leaps off your lap and takes off running. “Leo? Leo!” You give chase, wincing as his claws skitter across the hardwood in his panic.

Finally, you catch up to him quivering under the living room sofa. “Oh no, it’s okay!” You stretch out on the floor, clicking your tongue soothingly. “Come here, little guy. I’ve got you.”

Leo whimpers, but after a few tense minutes of coaxing, he creeps out just enough for you to scoop him up. You settle back against the couch with him bundled in your arms, murmuring reassurances as he trembles.

“Shhh, you’re safe … good boy ...” You press a tender kiss between his floppy ears, stroking him until his quaking fades to contented wriggles. As your apprehension melts away, a fierce protectiveness blossoms in your chest. This precious little soul is yours to care for now.

When Charles returns, he pauses in the hallway, tilting his head quizzically at the sight of you reclined on the sofa with Leo completely passed out on your stomach. “Having fun over there?”

You glance down at the slumbering puppy with a soft smile. “Actually … yeah. I think Leo and I are going to be just fine.”

A delighted grin spreads across Charles’s face. “I knew you two would hit it off!”

Over the ensuing weeks, you find yourself increasingly enamored with your four-legged child. Leo shadows your every step, bouncing around underfoot until you inevitably scoop him up to snuggle close. You start pushing all the throw pillows together to create a special nest for him on the couch. Charles teases that you’re getting a little carried away with spoiling the pup rotten.

“Oh, hush,” you retort without any real bite, nuzzling Leo’s plush cheek. “My baby deserves nothing but the best, isn’t that right?”

“Baby?” Charles arches an amused brow. “I think someone’s going overboard.”

You stick out your tongue, cuddling Leo closer with a playful glare. “Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous of our bond.”

“Hey, I’m not the one treating him like a literal infant!” Charles laughs, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s ears. But the puppy twists away with a protesting whine, burying his face against your neck.

Charles pauses, brow furrowing in a brief flicker of hurt. You think nothing of it until the same thing happens again at dinner … and on your evening walk around the block … and at bedtime when Leo kicks up a fuss about sleeping in his own bed instead of yours.

“Leo, come on!” Charles groans in frustration when the puppy darts under the dresser instead of coming to him. “What’s with you lately?”

He shoots you an aggrieved look, ruffling a hand through his tousled waves. “Ever since you started carrying him everywhere, he won’t leave your side. You’ve turned my own dog against me!”

You shrug innocently, scratching behind Leo’s silky ear when he peeks out to flash you an adoring gaze. “I can’t help it if he knows who his favorite parent is.”

“Favorite parent?” Charles splutters. “That’s my dog you’re talking about!”

You gasp in mock offense, gathering Leo up to press a loud smacker against his fuzzy head. “Don’t listen to him, baby! Papa’s just grumpy because I’m better at cuddles.”

Charles narrows his eyes at the giggling puppy now practically swimming in your embrace. “Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

He swoops in to snatch Leo away, cradling the squirming pup against his chest. “Who’s the favorite, huh? I’m the one who picked you out, you little traitor.”

But Leo simply strains back towards you, pawing at Charles’ arm with distressed whimpers until you take him back. He immediately settles with a contented sigh, licking your chin gloatingly as Charles gapes.

“Oh, that is war ...” Your boyfriend mutters, stalking away with hunched shoulders.

You blink after him in confusion before shrugging it off in favor of cooing over the dachshund. “Did mean old Papa try to take you from Mama? Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let him.”

From that point on, a constant battle for Leo’s affections rages between you and Charles. He’ll try enticing the puppy with treats or toys, only for Leo to bypass them entirely in favor of your open arms. You can’t help but preen victoriously every time Leo cuddles into your embrace with a sigh of pure bliss.

“You’ve turned him against me!” Charles bemoans one evening as Leo dozes contentedly on your lap, stubbornly ignoring the tennis ball being waved enticingly in front of his nose. “What’s a guy got to do to get some puppy love around here?”

You smirk, idly stroking Leo’s velvety ears. “Guess he just prefers spending time with his one true love.”

“Yeah, yeah ...” Charles grumbles, but you catch the fond curl of his lips as he watches you fawning over the pup. He flops down beside you with a theatrical groan. “Unbelievable. Replaced in my own home by a hairy sausage.”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t call my baby such things!” Scooping up Leo, you pepper his fuzzy face with smooches until he squirms happily. “Did you hear what Papa said about you? He’s just jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Charles protests, even as his gaze tracks the gentle way you cradle the puppy. There’s a wistful edge to his voice when he murmurs, “Remember when you used to look at me like that?”

You pause, registering the plaintive note. Slowly, you shift Leo into the crook of one arm so you can reach out and cup Charles’ cheek with your free hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Aww, my poor baby,” you tease gently. “Don’t worry — there’s enough love to go around for both of you.”

Charles leans into your touch with a huff, darting eyes betraying how much he misses your undivided attention. “I’m starting to doubt that.”

“Well then, let me remind you ...” You lean in until your lips are a hair’s breadth from his, holding his gaze as you murmur, “I happen to have the world’s biggest, most annoyingly persistent crush on this one race car driver.”

A shiver ripples through Charles, his breath catching. Before he can respond, you close the scant distance in a searing kiss, lips molding hot and desperate as you pour every ounce of adoration into the embrace. Leo gives a disgruntled squeak at being squished between your bodies, quickly wriggling free to skitter off with an offended sniff.

You hardly notice, too busy mapping the contours of Charles’ mouth with hungry sweeps of your tongue, muffling his delicious groans by deepening the kiss. By the time you finally break apart, you’re both left panting harshly, gazes locked in a blissful haze.

“Still think I only have eyes for the dog?” You rasp, relishing the way Charles’ pupils are blown wide.

He swallows thickly. “You make a … convincing argument.”

“Mmm, I try.” You lean in to nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip with a sly grin. “But I’m more than happy to keep making my case ...”

Charles growls low in his throat, hauling you forward until you’re properly straddling his lap, bodies flush. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Breathless laughter spills from your lips as he surges up to capture them once more, hands roaming eagerly over your curves. In that heated moment, the puppy is forgotten as you pour all your focus into worshiping each other, affections firmly realigned.

Well … until a tiny bark sounds from nearby, followed by indignant grumbling and the patter of tiny paws. You reluctantly break the steamy kiss, rolling your eyes fondly as Leo hops up onto the couch to shove his way between the two of you.

“Easy there, troublemaker,” you chuckle, stroking the puppy’s silken fur as he clambers between you and Charles, yipping happily now that he has both his humans’ full attention. “See, baby? I told you there was enough love for all of us.”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “It’s a good thing he’s cute.”

You grin, leaning in to rest your forehead against his as Leo snuggles down with a contented sigh. In this perfect cocoon of warmth and adoration, you can’t imagine anything better.

And if the three of you stay snuggled up on that couch long into the evening, trading lingering kisses and delighted giggles as Leo’s little tail thumps happily … well, no one has to know.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How these guys would react to having their face held…

Dick smiles out of habit and pushes his face even further into your hands, humming in content.

He loves it when you held him, however that may be, as it was the one thing he looked forward to the most when coming home.

He’s prone to frequent bouts of fatigue with patrols and the like, but it was moments like these where he could truly appreciate your touch and the healing properties they have on him.

‘I could spend forever here in your hands.’ He’d sigh as he allowed himself to relax within your touch.

‘Oh really? Is that so?’ You raised your brows, watching as the features within his face relaxed into a one that showed you just how exhausted Dick looked. You could see the toll his job his job took but you knew that Dick was too devoted, too attached to what he does to ever give it up, no matter how constantly drained and tired it made him.

You respect his decision to keep doing what he was doing but there came times where you’d just wish he would take a breather from it all, even if it was just for a second, you just wanted to take the weight off of Dick’s shoulders and put it aside for a moment while you work the tension out of his aching muscles.

‘Yeah.’ He responded, feeling himself sink further into sleep. Dick loved what he does but some times he resents it for leaving him with little to no time to spend with you, at least not without him falling asleep five minutes within the interaction. Time with you was sparse and all Dick wanted to do was spend as much of it as he could to make up for the fact that he was barely home at all during the day.

He knew that he prioritised being a hero over your relationship too often and he couldn’t help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt over it during your relationship. You didn’t deserve to wait up for him every night to make sure he was okay, not while developing heavy eye bags of your own and a lack of a sleeping schedule.

He just hopes that one day you too will realise that you better then what he’s giving you and put yourself first, but you were too selfless to ever do that and he could feel that through the way you trace his features with your fingers with featherlight caresses.

Jason stiffens beneath your touch and goes unresponsive for such a long time that you were worried that you had accidentally crossed a boundary.

So just as you were about to remove your hands from his face, Jason quickly reaches out to grasp your hands and pull them back to cupping his cheeks as he then proceeded to nuzzle his cheek against your palm.

‘Stay.’ He whispered. ‘Please.’

Your heart broke at his plea but obeyed as you began to stroke his cheeks with either of your thumbs, feeling him gradually relax under your touch until he was practically a puddle in your hands.

‘I’m sorry.’ He whimpered, burying his face into your hands so that you didn’t see his tear stricken red face. ‘I don’t deserve this. None of it.’ He adds, cursing himself for being so pathetic but your touch practically broke him in the best way.

In your hands Jason felt as though all his broken prices were being put back together again through love, warmth and patience and that was enough to make him breakdown into tears.

Physical affection is a foreign concern to this poor man, and in due to that Jason is naturally going to be skeptical and on edge the moment the pads of your fingertips explore his jawline, before slowly coming up to cup his cheeks. ‘I’m right here Jaybridie.’ You utter softly as you felt his grip on your wrists slack a little. ‘I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere because nowhere is more important than staying here with you. Just take your time.’ And stay with him you did.

Damian is another one who’s not use to soft touches and sweet affection.

So he’ll initially be on guard when he saw you coming his way with your hands outstretched to cup his cheeks, but will huff and reluctantly rest his face in your palms, he’s extremely stiff while doing so and looking away from you out of initial embarrassment.

‘Get on with it.’ He’d mutter, acting as though such acts or moments of tenderness and vulnerability were beneath him, when in actuality Damian loved the feeling of you hold his face as though it were porcelain. He loved the fact that despite knowing his upbringing you still treat him with a love, kindness and warmth that he has never been shown before.

To Damian it was clear that you didn’t care if he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. You only cared about him, Damian Wayne and he could feel that care through your touch as he vowed to cut through anything and everything that intended to harm you.

Your touch brings him a sense of calm, serenity and peace that brought him back from the brink a plethora of times, especially in moments when his arrogance and brashness would resurface. Damian was thankful for you being in his life, a true guiding light in his darkest moments, and he couldn’t think of any possible way to thank you for everything you’ve done for him but he’ll surly try.

Bruce feels the tension behind his eyes and in his jaw sooth themselves under your touch.

His eyes would slowly close as he brought his calloused hands up to gently stroke the inside of your wrists. Bruce needs no words to describe how he felt because he feels as though his expressions and the noises of content made it clear how much he appreciated you being here with him.

‘You look tired.’ You commented, tracing the weary lines on his hard face with your eyes as he observed your face and the way it showed most of your innermost emotions whether you were aware of this fact or not.

Bruce knew that you worry and that you worry a lot about him in particular when it came to whether he was sleeping enough, eating enough and keeping himself safe whilst fighting on the streets of Gotham. Bruce knew he was as stubborn as mule when it came to his life choices and that you were only just worried about him because you cared for him, but sometimes he wished you would redirect all this effort towards yourself because he oftentimes didn’t think he was worth of your worry, nor your care.

Bruce felt as though he should be the one taking care of you rather than you taking care of him. It’s not as though he hates it, it’s just you’ve shown him on countless occasions of your care towards him, and on even more occasions you have shown him of your unwavering dedication towards him. Bruce also feels like he should be the one paying you back for all the hard times where you stood by his side, watching him practically work himself to the bone and almost into a comatose if you didn’t step in and deal him away from the computers.

For you’ve proven time and time again that you weren’t so easily swayed into leaving, and that was made more true when he felt comfortable enough telling you that he was Batman and the dangers that would come with knowing such knowledge. You however only shrugged and told him that by his side, you were the safest you’ve ever been or will ever be.

‘More so than usual?’ He asked in a way that it might as well have came out as an indignant huff.

‘And by more so than usual you mean constantly, then yes, yes you are more tired than usual.’ You replied as you ran your thumbs under his eyes and across his eye bags as if to emphasise your point. Bruce only huffs as he watched you take in all of him with nothing but love and affection in your eyes and your touch.

John would most likely bite your hand out of an inherent need to be a teasing little shit.

Will boast about the fact that you just wanted to touch up his stubble. He wasn’t lying but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that and instead say; ‘in your dreams John.’

‘Oh I’m sure I am in yours.’ He reply with confidence as he winked, causing you to lightly pinch his cheek as punishment for his cockiness. ‘I hate you.’ You’d say as you push your fingertips through his stubbly beard, enjoying the way it deliciously tickles your skin, almost as though they were little prickly kisses.

‘No you don’t sweetheart, try as you might but you and me both know that for definite that you love me.’ John would state in a matter of fact tone. Once again you hated how right he was, but kept your lips sealed shut as not to give him any more ammunition to tease and contradict you at any given opportunity than you’ve already have.

The air between you is playful and light in comparison to how cynical, sharp witted and sarcastic he usually is on a daily basis. It was a welcomed change as you allowed the blonde to pretend to bite your hand, only allowing for his teeth to barely graze your skin before pulling away with a sly smirk as you scratch at his stubble.

[seventhcallisto]

WIDER. ot8

In which the ninth member of ateez tries a few different things with her boyfriends... VERY NSFW. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Hiii todays my 21st birthday nd I was wondering if I can get the nastiest smut u got for ot8 or just any member please —asked @bratty-tingz

Hi birthday pookie! Nasty 0t8 just for you !!

Content: ot8 bf!ateez x afab!reader (she/her pronouns/nns) anal(f!rec), double penetration, mentioned at triple, lots and lots of cum, unprotected sex (not sponsored) there's a lot, read at ur own risk.

"Just like that baby" you squirm "s too much min-" he scoffs, lightly, teasingly, tensing his hands around your cheeks to keep your spread open, a strangled groan emitting from his throat. "Come on, you can handle it, you've taken it before sweet girl" seonghwa murmurs, using his knees to spread your thighs wider on mingis lap. "It's just one gorgeous, how're gonna take another cock if you can't even handle one baby?" Hongjoong coos, swiping the sweat from your forehead. You pout, coming up to interlace your hands sweetly with his over your cheek.

Mingi bottoms out with your hips slinking down on him, his thigh twitching under the weight of your body on his. A shudder gasp wracks his lungs, your face scrunching at the stretch. God, truly, you didn't know if you could take another.

With a few seconds to adjust, the bed is dipping behind you, San kissing your shoulder gently the minute he feels your skin against his. His tip pressed against your already filled hole. "San! Wait! Please, s'can't" you shuddered, mingi was already big enough to take up the entirety of your cunt. Leaving you full, but to have san pressing into the same hole, with his lubed up dick trying to slip in. You were really doubting the fit. "Just let it happen, sweet girl," the same man presses kisses to your shoulder, nipping softly. His hands encase your waist. You shudder on mingis thighs, clenching every so often as san tries to line himself up again.

Mingi pats your bum, spreading you further so san can see where he's working. "y'squeezing love, please relax or m gonna- fuck" The minute you feel san go to press in again, you drop your head down on mingis own wide shoulder. "she's right. Why's your dick gotta be so big, mingi? Fucking hell" san groans at the squeeze of the tight ring of your cunt, completely stretched out from earlier endeavors but still holding mingi in the tightest of suctioned grips. Mingi gently lifts you by your hips, easing out an inch. "B-Better?" The pink haired member tuts, looking behind at san. San nods mindlessly, the added space helping him to slot his cock farther in a few more inches. You whimper, jolting from the sensation of two of them inside you.

San squeezes your waist so you can't move. "Just like that sweetheart," seonghwa speaks up, "look at how stuffed you are, taking them so well" he reaches for your palm against mingis chest, placing it over the bulge on your stomach. Your eyes swing open the minute a rough hand grabs your chin, tilting you to look down at yourself. "He said look." Mingi hisses. Throbbing from inside your walls, his lip under his teeth. Eyes slotted over your face to watch your eyes widen. It's ridiculous. You could hardly comprehend how much space they've taken up on your insides. San continues his assault on your neck, bruising hickeys into your skin.

Mingis hips jolt up, sending himself all the way in, and slipping san further with him. You moan, biting his shoulder from the movement. Sans groan meets your ear, his breath fanning against your neck.

"mingi, ah- shit- give her a second"

Your cunt continuously squeezing around the two of them has mingi breathing heavy, even when San scoots himself to sheath himself all the way inside your hot walls. Mingi stutters, his eyes clenching shut.

"Fuck I can't do it, I'm going crazy here" he whimpers from above you. He might feel terrible later, but the added stimulus from sans cock throbbing against his own has his hips moving on their own, rutting his dick up against your walls and the other hard length propped against his own. It's a feeling that has mingis core vibrating, building up his orgasm quicker than he can ever proudly admit. "Fuck! Fuck! fine!" San leans back, timing his thrusts up with mingi so you're lulled between the two of them. His heavy palms firm on your hips to hold you down to them. His dark eyes watch you suck the both of them in, bent over mingi so you can rest with your head against his shoulder. You whimper every time they slip just the tiniest bit out, gasping just as loudly when they both bottom in.

Seonghwa groans from next to you. You could hear the audible click of hongjoongs tongue when he watches his other members begin to lose it. "Guess you'll have to wait your turn now," he murmurs to seonghwa, slotting himself against your hip on the other side, opposite seonghwa. He palms the bulge on your stomach, admiring the way it moves when the two members behind you bottom inside. His fingers begin trailing down to your clit, stimulating it with small circles. You twitch against mingis shoulder, grasping hongjoongs hand in yours. "Please- please wait-" you spasm in his hold, throwing your hip away and back into sans thrusts. Hongjoong chuckles. Resisting the way you pull at his hand.

His assault on your clit begins the minute san speads up his thrusts, pushing and pulling you back onto mingi and him. Mingi-, who just so happens to not be doing the work. His head thrown back against the headboard, and his eyes clenched shut. San snaps him out of it, unlatching one of his hands to trail up mingis chest and squeeze his pink nipple between his fingertips. From the pinch, mingi shoots up and smacks his hand away, hissing at the pain.

"Mingi, you better move or I'm pulling her off you and fucking her myself"

Mingi groans, his eyebrows pull taunt. He leans up to swallow your moans with his own, rolling his hips in time with san, sloppy and uncoordinated. But he's trying, even when he keeps twitching inside you the moment he feels you pulse from hongjoong simply rubbing your clit. "Look at that baby, you got mingi about to cum just from having him inside and seonghwa so desperate for you" hongjoong teases, his tone heavy as he leans on your shoulder. Seonghwa has slotted himself against the bed, working his thighs open and jerking himself off to the best of his ability. His thighs shake just out of view. His dark eyes lidded from the way he stares at the scene.

"It's all for you"

Your nth orgasms of the night starts the moment hongjoong stops talking, drawing you over the edge with quicker circles across your swollen bud. You shiver and shake in their grasp, trying and failing to leave the assault on your clit. Mingi unlatches himself from your lips, trailing his head down to bit and suck on your collarbone, leaving more marks anywhere he can get his teeth. You completely go limp, clawing at hongjoongs fingers on your now overstimulated nub. "Please! Joong fuck!- it's too much!" You whimper loudly, pulling away from his continuous movement and falling back into San. The dark-haired male chuckles against your back, plowing himself back in with mingi every time he thrusts. His hand placed firm on your shoulder to pull you down on his every thrust.

"Cumming-" mingi chokes before he's spilling his seed, painting your walls with his cum. He tenses up, leaning onto his palm so he can thrust the rest of himself up and into you. Drawing his orgasm on with yours. You tremble in their grips, hongjoong swirling your attacked clit with his pretty fingers. San slows his thrusts the minute he feels mingis cum leaking around him. "That's it- oh fuck" he groans loudly when he shoots his own load, digging himself as deep as possible inside you.

His thrusts slow to lazy rolls, hongjoong removing his fingers the minute he sees san cum.

You fall over mingi, heaving into his chest, shuddering every second. San is the first to pull out, pushing against mingis heavy palms to spread your cheeks wider. His cum and mingis cascading out of your ruined cunt. "Keep it all in there," he trails off, scooping it back into your cunt. You squeeze around mingi, the same member hissing, attempting to pull himself out of you the longer he softens inside.

"m gonna get you a towel babe, just- give me a minute," mingi heaves quietly, patting your ass. "Hyung?" San trails off from behind you, you glance to the eldest, stripped down to his comfy black slacks, his arm is thrown over his eyes, his chest glistening with sweat.

His cock- still hard- bobs against his stomach when he breathes roughly. Jerking his cock must not have worked, cause the guy is dying, audibly whimpering the longer you all stare. When mingi pulls out, he hands you off to hongjoong, the older member kissing your sweaty hairline, lifting you so he can crawl on his knees over to seonghwa.

San and mingi are both heaving on the bed, digging themselves into the mattress side by side, attempting to gain their strength.

He lowers you on the eldest members' lap, cum soaked cunt pressing down on his rock hard dick. Seonghwa moving his arms to hold you, bringing you down into his sloppy kiss. He whimpers in your grasp, slobbering into your mouth messily. Hongjoong lines his tip to your back end, circling his tip against your anus.

The sensation has you jolting, moaning into the eldest members' mouths. Seonghwa pulls off you with a string attached, passing his cock over your folds. His black hair falls in waves over his sweaty face, eyes lidded and lips tainted red from all of the kissing and biting. His eyes slowly cascading down your body to watch himself pass over your clit, his hand holding the base of his longer cock, his other one gripping your thigh.

You twitch at every slick pass of his cockhead, easing back down when hongjoong holds your hips.

"Is wooyoung back?"

The front door slams open, causing the five of you on the bed to jolt. Wooyoungs shouting, the crinkled sound of a bag in his hand. The rest of the members followed behind him quietly through the door.

"I got the lube!"

He couldn't be any louder, his heavy feet stomping his way into your shared bedroom. He scoffs at the sight, pouting into his words. He wiggles the bag in his palm. "That's so not fair! I called dibs!" The younger member points an accusing finger at the leader, whining into his words. Hongjoong smirks in reply, slotting forward to steal the bag from wooyoungs grasp.

The younger gasps loudly. "And put some pants on!" He shoves sans legs out of the way to crawl the rest of the way on the bed, stealing your breath away from seonghwa so he can suck your lips into his. His cold palms meet your breasts, squeezing harshly. You moan in pain, swallowed by his tongue prodding around your mouth and greedily eating you up. San kicks his hip as an act of revenge for pushing him out of the way. Pushing himself up to follow in mingis footsteps, dressing their lower halves to step out of the bedroom.

The younger guy's kiss breaks cause of the kick. Wooyoung isn't deterred. He immediately slots himself forward, biting the skin under your ear. The pop of a lid catches your attention, turning from the eager, dark-haired man.

Hongjoong kisses your shoulder the minute he sees your face turn towards him, his hand rubbing the sticky lube between his fingers. Seonghwas hands hold your hips and push you down so he can slot himself inside you. No warning is needed. It's not like you aren't already pretty lubed up as it is. His long nimble dick reaching the depth of you the second he bottoms out, his head thrown back in bliss and mouth ajar.

Gosh, your boyfriends are so pretty.

Hongjoongs fingers slotted to your behind, taking the mounds and slipping his fingers down to your second hole. Wooyoung watches, eyes lidded and breath heavy from his tongue. Despite your best efforts, you're squeezing seonghwa. His breath gets caught in his throat every time, eyes fluttering, he's doing his best to hold back, even as hongjoong preps your ass to take him. His nimble fingers scissor your tight hole open, the stretch is different back there, a lot less proper compared to your pussy which he spends hours on. You grind back down on them, the difference causing you to feel light headed.

"You like that?" Hongjoong teases with a hum, burying his fingers to the hilt inside you. "Like your pretty ass being full of fingers? Our dirty girl," his tongue clicks, fingers pulling out quickly. Your face overheats at the embarrassing whine you let slip. The rhythm is gone, and so is the feeling. You sigh against seonghwas chest, hands propped up on either side of his head. Seonghwas face is blissed out, his mouth pulled open the longer he has to wait, his eyes scrunched. Cockwarming him as he waits for hongjoong to finish. He doesn't have to wait long, the tip of hongjoongs cock pressing into your other hole.

"Will it fit?" You whisper to the man behind you, grabbing his hand on your waist. He hums, teasing the head of his cock in. "I'll make it fit, baby." He bends down to kiss your shoulder, glancing at wooyoung. "Don't do what I'm about to do" wooyoungs face scrunches at the captains words.

Hongjoong bottoms out with one harsh thrust forward, his length pushing all the way to the hilt. Your moan is ungodly, louder than ever intended. You tremble above seonghwa, who moans quietly, trembling just as much as you are. "Ah- shit, That felt so good," he admits, dragging your down farther onto his cock. The thin barrier pushing his and hongjoong together.

Hongjoong starts his pace, drawing himself all the way out to slam back into you, plunging your insides thoroughly. You meet his thrusts the best you can, easing yourself around seonghwas upward spiral, his hips swirling to meet yours every time hongjoong bottoms out. "s'soso good sweet girl, keep doing that- mm" seonghwa mutters, lost in his own bliss.

The feeling of the two of them scrapping your insides has you drooling. Eyes clenching harshly. A pair of hands grabs your face, and the sound of a zipper drops. Wooyoungs pretty cock stands hard and erect in front of you, tip leaking with beads of cum, his face looks tortured, his hand sliding up and down his shaft slowly.

You take him in your hands, cutting off his words without a thought. Every time hongjoong and seonghwa thrust into you, you lose your train of thought. Deciding to just take wooyoung on your tongue, you plant his firm cock all the way in your mouth. His whimper is loud, louder than the two men plowing into you. Like he's being tortured. You love when wooyoung whines, his hands coming up to hold your hair from your face, his grip is rough, but he has the right idea. You thank him with a hum, his hips stuttering up and his cock sliding forward. His head throws back, eyebrows furrowed down over his forehead.

"Fuck! I didn't even get to ask-" he whimpers again, rutting himself forward down your throat. You breath through what you can, planting your hand against his thigh to steady yourself against the other men's relentless thrusts. Seonghwas pace is growing sloppy, his breathing harsh against your chest. You take what you can in your mouth from wooyoung, wrapping your hand around the rest of his length to pump him. He writhes in your grasp, curling in on himself the moment you hollow your cheeks around him.

Hongjoongs rough grip on your hips falters, his breath fanning against your shoulders. "cumming, cumming- oh god" seonghwa hiccups, thighs curling upwards, he pumps himself the last of the way inside you, dragging your waist down onto him. You shudder from the warmth, pulling off wooyoung to moan from the feeling of seonghwa throbbing inside you. Wooyoung ruts into your palm the best he can, using your hand to get himself off.

Seonghwa fingers sneak up to rub your swollen clit, your moan getting caught off. You twitch, moaning loudly. "Its- too much seonghwa- oh my god" you cry, watching the older member place his lower lip down under his teeth. The overstimulation was getting to him, and if you both didn't come soon he was going to pass out.

His pretty finger swirls your sensitive bundle, getting you there as close as youcam manage. "oh- m'fuck I'm-" you cry with a guttural call of seonghwa and hongjoongs name. Hongjoons thrusts faltering the minute he feels you come. "I can feel you squeezing me from back here baby- feel so perfect-" he groans, snapping his hips forward. Sweat dripping from his chin.

Hongjoong tilts over the edge, splattering your second hole with his entire load, buried to the hilt.

You were thoroughly ruined, struggling to place the tip of wooyoung on your tongue to suck him the rest of the way off. Grasping the rest of him in a tight hold and abusing his length into your palm. He whines loudly when he cums, crying through the overstimulation of your cheeks continue to hollow out around him. His cum swallowed down by your throat greedily. "Babe- bab- Please! Fuck i can't-"

Wooyoung palms your head off of him, popping your lips off his tip. He twitches, falling against the bed to roll away from your assault. You lick up what spelt on your fingertips.

"You owe me ten bucks" a voice erupts from the entrance, it's jonghos. Tuning in to watch the scene in front of him from the doorway. "Ah really? I had high hopes" yeosang mumbles back from the living room. Wooyoung shoots up from the bed, tucking himself back into his pants. "Are yall making bets?!" He stumbles after the youngest.

Hongjoong slowly begins to pull out of you, cooing at the way you slink forward into seonghwa. The dark haired member remaining inside you, his hands stroking your back comfortably. He trails kisses against your jaw, distracting you for a moment so the leader can slip out of you.

Seonghwas out next, completely deflating under you. His heavy palms smoothing the free skin on your lower back.

It's been a while since you were sandwiched between your boyfriends, with touring all month, especially with your birthday around the corner, everyone is spent, completely exhausted. You wouldn't hold it against any of them for having only one round in them, they've worked so hard, your boyfriends just wanting to spend your special day under the sheets with you.

Well, that wasn't going to happen, so the minute you all got off after another day of performing on stage for thousands, you could hardly keep your knees from shaking, exhausted from the concert. It still happened to be your birthday the next day, overdue for a birthday live. Which was a relief, only cause you didn't have to stand the entirety of it.

As soon as you had returned to your dorm, you were melting at the idea of rose peddles and a cute dinner set up in the livingroom, your boyfriends all propped in suits. Despite your better judgment, you know they were stepping out of their comfort time to give you the best they could do for the moment.

It was sweet, you adored the idea of having a home made and comfortable late evening. Especially when later you finally could get them in the real sheets. At some point, you genuinely didn't know when, they had all switched out of those same pristine suits for more casual clothing. You loved seeing them comfortable, but it had been weeks since you were able to touch any of them properly, so seeing them completely naked was a better sight.

Which is where you were now, heaving on seonghwas chest and almost completely jelly. "Love?" Yeosang cooed, palming your hair from your sweaty face, when did he come in? "Yeosang" you pawed at his chest, hooking your finger into his shirt to pull him down, kissing his lips softly. "Hi love, drink up" yeosang offered a waterbottle up to your lips. You gulp down the content, pushing it once you find you've drank enough.

Seonghwa scoots out from under you, placed next to hongjoong so he can comfortably lay without being half off the bed, the other member dragging him into his side so they can lay together. Yeosang swipes the drool on the side of your lips, pecking the corners after and then sweetly taking your swollen lips into his perfectly natural ones. Gentle and soft the way they brush against yours, dancing and playing with your bottom lip. He breaks away to set the waterbottle to the side, holding a hand out to make sure you're stable even if you're on all fours in front of him.

Yeosang feels you tug on his pants. His head stuttering back to look at you. "Need you inside too yeo, will you please fuck me?"

Who is he to deny any of your pleas? It's your birthday for fucks sake. He wastes no time in helping you face him, your front pressed to his chest. His shirt disregarded somewhere in the room, he lines his tip with your cum stained hole, smearing the amount of cum still lingering around you. Your arms slot over his shoulders, pulling him in tightly. His eyes never falter, pulling you by the thighs to get closer to him. He teases his cockhead against your hole, watching your tortured face with lidded eyes. "Yeosang" you draw out, wiggling your hips against his grasp, he chuckles, glancing down at the pout on your features. "What, can't handle a little foreplay?" He tuts, shaking his head lightly. "You just had four cocks using both of these pretty holes, you still need more? You're starting to sound greedy" he mumbles against your lips, teasingly pulling away the moment he sees your eyes glance down to them.

"It's okay, I love how greedy this pussy is for us" yeosang swipes himself through your folds one more time, pushing his way past your entrance, your eyes stutter closed, before he's yanking you back to look at him by his hand on your jaw. "I want to see you when I split you on my cock" his whisper is harsh, his eyes equally as so. Drowning you in the darkness of them the more he bottoms inside.

The bed dips behind you, heavy and squeaky. Yeosangs eyebrow perks up, glancing behind you. Yunhos soft voice coos your worries, placing gentle kisses against the expansion of your neck. "Look at that, such a champ. Think you could take one more?" Your mind is elsewhere, the second yeosangs pelvis meets yours, you can't help where your mind goes. "Answer him" yeosang encourages, jolting you up when he moves to get more comfortable against the headboard. "Yes I can take one more" your eyes cloud over, pressing your head into the junction of yeosangs neck to push your back out for yunho.

Yunhos smooth hand slap against your cheeks. You yelp, "That's so mean. You listen to yeosang but not me?" His hands sting, playing with the flesh he just bruised. You whimper against him, pressing against his touch the more he pushes against you. "m sorry yun" you pout, throwing your head back to look at your bigger boyfriend. He thinks about it, glaring down at your leaking hole.

"That's okay baby, just gonna give you a reminder of what my name is"

The tight walls of your second hole has yunho gasping, had you really been prepped enough? His cock eases in slowly. Glancing to the captain who's watching the show quietly from the side. Hongjoong catches his gaze, licking his lips as he smirks. "I prepped her, she's just tight" hongjoong sighs, as if reminiscing on being inside you. He's already gathering his clothing, slotting them over his hip and passing seonghwa his shirt.

"S'that right babe? Just got a tight little ass?" Yunho teases, holding your waist against him to bottom inside. The filling you're having leaving you willful to however they move you. Yeosangs hands pulling your thighs farther apart. Yeosang pulls out until he's halfway in, smoothing his hips up to begin an unrelenting pace against your cervix. Your breath is already intense, picking up moans the quicker he gets and the more yunho moves to his strokes.

The unison to each of them has you feeling like jello, clenching when yeosangs tip hits that gummy spot inside you, your toes curling against the sheet.

"Already, love? You last just as long as wooyoung"

The teasing phrase has you whimpering, poor wooyoung, and poor you. Your boyfriends could be mean when they really wanted. Especially yeosang, yunho, on the hand was more teasing. Yunhos long finger come over to circle your clit for the nth time that evening, waves of electricity bouncing off your body as every pass of his fingertips get you to comming quicker.

"Right there! Oh- pleasepleaseplease" you chant, vision whitening just as you cum, yeosang stutters with you. Cumming just as abruptly as you do. His head thrown against the headboard, breathy groans off the tip of his tongue and into the sex filled air. Sweat beads off yunhos forehead, watching your ass swallow his every thrust greedily. His fingers loosing their temple against your swollen and definitely abused clit. He flattens his hips against yours, cumming shortly with a shuddered gasp.

You take in all in both sides, falling into yeosang the second yunho begins to pull himself from your used hole. Your breathy whimper soothed down by yeosangs kisses against your temple. His hands holding your hip back so he can also pull himself out of you. The gloops of cum is an unruly sight, the towel mingi had promised placed on the side table. Yeosang scoops it up for you instead, kissing your face and then passing it to yunho to clean your behind.

"You did so good pretty" yeosang hums, nuzzling against your collarbone. "Mm yea, took it so well" yunho continues on for the other deep haired man, swiping the towel against your ass. You lay sideways on the bed the minute yeosang scoots away from you, gathering the soiled towel from the taller members grasp and leaving. Yunho swipes his thumb across your hip, kissing the skin softly. Jonghos soft head is poking in from the doorway, seemingly let off the hook from wooyoung. Yunho snickers, scooting off the end of the bed in his own pants, having put them on the second he pulled out of you.

You beckon the youngest with open arms, catching his strong hold in you own. He preens at the affection, loving your touch. "We don't have to if-" "jongho, if you don't take your pants off I'm going to rip them off" you murmur against his lips, adjusting so your on your tummy facing him. Jongho gulps quietly, fishing his hard on from his briefs.

You gather the saliva in your mouth, spitting it into your palm so you can begin pumping his swollen length. Hard and on standby for far too long. His eyes stutter close every so often the harder you tug, his hands finding each side of your cheeks. "Keep doing that" he moans quietly, helping your head to ease his cock down your throat. His breathy groans music to your ears, you take all of him down, kissing the patch of hair at the base of his cock. He watches you do so, eyes lidded and mouth lulled open.

"That's so hot," his hands come to wrap around your throat, pressing on his length buried to the hilt inside. He shudders against the pressure, tutting forward and throwing his head back whenever you gag. He loves the sound, bottoming in and out with every thrust. Your hands are placed on either side of his pant covered thighs, holding yourself carefully against his pace against your throat. Watching his eyes cloud and begin to get heavier the seconds pass inside your wet cavern. It's really not taking long for jongho to start pushing your head down himself, watching you gag and near up at such a big cock down your throat.

He breaths out a half-assed apology, rutting forward to slot himself between your lips and then pulling back to the hilt so he can watch the drool shake out of your mouth and around his hard cock.

"Babe, 'm gonna cum in your pretty throat okay?" He whimpers quietly, moaning through every rough suck or slurp played through your mind. Jonghos sloppy pace slowing the minute he looks back down at your teary gaze.

He cums down your throat, pooling around the corner of your lips and dripping off your face.

Fuck, what a good day.

[amysubmits]

Owning Me Is Complicated

Occasionally I come across content that makes it seem like being a Dom is easy.

Order her around, make her do the things you don't want to do, do whatever you want, "win" all the disagreements because you're the dom - or even silence her from disagreeing with you to begin with. Get sex exactly how you want it, exactly when you want it. She's just a living, breathing object that can and will do whatever you want. She has no needs other than to make your life easier. She's your own personal robot, but with a body you want to fuck. Being a dom is like a regular relationship but without the emotional labor. I'm sure there are other gender versions out there too, but I see the M/f version most often. It's so funny to me how absurd that all is compared to real life.

Owning me is complicated. Owning me means doing way more emotional labor than a vanilla relationship would require, not less.

Yes, I do what he says - but he's responsible for making the best decisions he can. He's in charge, so keeping me physically and emotionally safe is his responsibility. It's a huge part of how he earns my submission. It's no small thing to make decisions when making them well is part of how he keeps me safe and keeps me open and trusting towards him. Yes, I'll try to push my sexual limits for him - but I have complex emotional needs that accompany physical intimacy. Use my body without having respect for my physical and mental health and it'll fall apart real quick. And once again, making a reckless decision here that would leave me damaged and could forever damage our dynamic. Sure, he can take his cock out anytime and instruct me to suck and I will, but that doesn't mean it's all fun and games. He has the burden of double and triple checking that he isn't pushing me too far, or taking too much as to leave me empty. Yes, he gets the final say in disagreements, but he earns that by hearing me out. He couldn't keep me submissive if he didn't respect my feelings. I can't feel respected if I'm not heard. So he has to hear me out and really listen. And then his job is to attempt to get the best outcome for both of us. He has to try to balance our needs, because if either of us gets neglected, we individually suffer and then the relationship suffers. So he sometimes deals with the weight of threading the needle between his needs and mine, his wants and mine. His shoulders carry the weight of those choices. Yes, he can deny my wishes - and even my needs for a time, if he chose. But I am human. How long can he deny me things that bring me pleasure before I start to feel unwanted, unloved, disrespected, thrown out? Resentment would set in eventually. Self-protection would kick in eventually...and it might be too late by then, the damage may be done by the time I would wake up to look around and decide I didn't want to live like this anymore. Why would he want to even find out, given that he loves me? He wouldn't. He has a sadistic streak, so he likes to deny me things I like so that I long for them even more for a while. He likes to see me eager, desperate to get it when he decides to give it. He likes to watch me tolerate discomfort for him. Playing with these ideas require a deep understanding of my needs and limits. He has to know where "desperate for you 🥺 " starts to fade and "That goblin in the back of my head is starting to worry I'm not valued" starts to enter my thoughts. Yes, I look to him to guide and lead, and he has a lot of power and control - but that comes with the ability to destroy and damage. There's nothing easy about ownership if you feel the weight of the responsibility you're carrying.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: newrelationship!vernon, miscommunication, afab reader, smut, virgin reader, inexperienced reader, dry humping, fingering, etc.

wc: 3040

a/n: had a thought abt this so i decided to write it. hope u like <3

masterlist

vernon wasn't sure what he was doing wrong.

god, he was just so into you, but he didn't know what to do anymore.

you'd been dating for a bit over two months by now, and it had been perfect. you'd spent almost every day together, never spending a dull moment by each other's sides. and god, was be obsessed with you. he felt like a bit of a loser, with how horribly down bad he was for you, but he couldn't help himself, okay? you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. it didn't help that you were also the smartest, funniest, sexiest- okay he'll stop now. he still wasn't sure what exactly he had done to bag you, but he wasn't about to question his good fortune.

that was where his problem laid, actually.

despite two months of perfect love (was it too soon for him to say that?), the two of you had yet to have sex - or do anything remotely sexual in general. he'd had the privilege of holding you in his arms as you slept a few times now, and even the pleasure of feeling your lips against his as you endlessly sighed against his mouth when you'd kiss (something that got him going immediately - the feeling of your pliant form against him and your soft lips chasing after his), but he was yet to hit any other base with you.

the sheer desperation he felt for you made him feel terrible. vernon was nothing if not a respectful man. he wanted nothing more than to make you feel as comfortable as possible, never expressing any type of complaint whenever you pulled away or stopped him if things were getting too far for your liking. like last week.

you'd both been on his couch watching a movie together. it was all fine and dandy until you decided to pull his head towards you, suddenly planting a kiss against his lips. you did this quite often, actually. you seemed to really enjoy kissing vernon, something he would never say no to. like any reasonable person, he met you with equal enthusiasm, swallowing your soft moans while he shared a few groans right back into your mouth.

this went on for about fifteen minutes, making him lightheaded at your proximity. his hands were on your waist while yours played with his hair. he had moved you to sit on his lap about ten minutes ago, now having your weight atop his lap while he willed his boner away. it didn't take long for him to begin to get fidgety, deciding to begin a trail of kisses down your neck. your reaction had his breath catching in his throat. he had never heard such pretty moans in his life. it seemed like you were enjoying it as much as he was, tilting your head to the side to give him more room to kiss and suck at. it all went well, until his hands began to wander a bit.

you immediately placed them back on your waist, not giving any other reaction or indication as to why. about ten minutes later when you had finally grown too tired of making out, you separated from one another. you whispered a shy 'sorry' to him before cuddling back into him as you had been thirty minutes ago. he chose not to question it, simply pulling you even closer to his side.

~

next time it happened it was a bit more embarrassing. you'd woken up together after he had stayed over at your place. you had immediately jumped him, kissing him with intensity he hadn't met before. he wasn't an idiot, so he kissed back, taking anything you were willing to give him. it was filthy, really. just a mess of tongues and even some heavy petting over your clothes.

he was so sure this time you'd want more. that you'd finally at least let him have the unimaginable pleasure of some over-the-clothes action. he would give even with some dry humping. he was incredibly hard, which was already embarrassing on it's own. what made it even more embarrassing, however, was your squeak and the way you backed away the moment you felt his hardness against your leg. there were no words exchanged, just widened eyes starting at one another. the silence was only broken when vernon quickly grumbled out an apology along with a short 'i'll, uh, go take care of it. my bad' before leaving the room and locking himself in your bathroom.

after a less than gratifying session with his fist in your tiny bathroom, he came back to you, ears still burning red and eyes meeting the floor.

"vernon, fuck. i'm sorry, i just wasnt-"

"its fine!", he interrupted (very stupidly, by the way), "you dont have to explain anything. did you, uh, wanna get breakfast or something?"

you smiled back at him, seemingly thankful that he had given you an out, "yeah, sure nonnie."

~

next time had been the last one. the last instance that truly broke vernon. it had also been an accident, but a fortunate one at that.

vernon already had a key to your apartment. sure, you'd only been dating for a short time, but in both of your defenses, you'd been friends for a while before that, so this just seemed like a logical course of action. vernon had the tendency to drop by your apartment unannounced. he hated texting and was usually too lazy to call, so he had grown accustomed to just popping by. thus far, it had never been an issue. sometimes you'd be caught off guard, but for the most part it didnt go past you playfully slapping his chest and telling him to make some type of noise in order to not give you a heart attack; advice he seemingly did not take. not even today.

he was too quiet, even to a fault. he walked in, not making any type of noise and immediately seeking you out. you weren't in the living room, which meant you could only be in your room. he wished he could've checked the kitchen or the restroom first. maybe then you could've had more time to prepare, but that's not what happened. what happened, however, was that vernon unsuspectedly walked into your room only to find you pantless, with your hand up your cunt, groaning in frustration at yourself - something that had him tilting his head in confusion despite the sheer shock.

he couldn't really see anything too compromising due to the oversized shirt you were wearing covering your crotch itself, but he wasn't an idiot, he knew what having your hand down there meant. you were touching yourself. and it wasn't going well. you hadn't noticed him yet. his eyes were still wide, gasp trapped in his throat before unwillingly releasing it the moment you looked up, probably having felt his presence.

you jumped back in place, grabbing a pillow to cover between your legs before you started yelling at him.

"v-vernon?! what the fuck?! what are you doing here?"

he stayed frozen for a few seconds before finally snapping out of his trance, eyes still glued to your nether area despite the pillow playing the role of a barrier between his eyes and your cunt.

"uh, i, fuck. im sorry, i-"

"stop staring at me!", you put your arms over your face, covering yourself while also making yourself as small as possible due to embarrassment. fuck, vernon felt so terrible at making you feel ashamed that he'd caught you in the act. he hadn't meant to, truly!

"wait, no! don't- it's okay! i'm so sorry," against his better judgment, he walked over to you, sitting next to you on your bed. you hadnt asked him to leave, and you seemed vulnerable, so he assessed that the best move right now would be to try and comfort you.

you slowly looked up at him, hair a mess and obvious tears on your face. your face was also slightly flushed, indicating that you had been crying out of embarrassment. fuck, that was so adorable.

"you don't have to be embarrassed, it- it's fine. i'm sorry i didnt knock, i shouldve called beforehand like you told me. i know im probably overstepping a boundary here, but we've been dating for a while, i know you dont want to go there with me yet, but theres no need to be embarra-"

'it's not- vernon. i do want to have sex with you.'

"h- huh? you do?"

you did?! had he been reading you wrong this whole time? were you just playing hard to get or something? no, that didn't really sound like you.

you turned to face him, making sure your shirt still hid your naked bottom as you did so, "yes, vernon, i just ... fuck, its so embarrassing. ive just never had sex before ..." you looked anywhere but into his eyes as you said this, clearly ashamed of the revelation.

"i- that's it? you're a virgin? babe, you know i don't care about that, right?"

"it's not just that, nonnie. i ... i've never ...." the second half of your statement was too mumbled for him to understand.

"what was that?"

"dont make me say it again!"

"babe, i didnt hear you, i swear. just tell me, baby, cmon. id never judge you, you know that."

you sighed, now deciding to sit up fully and look straight into his eyes, "ive never had an orgasm."

oh. oh.

"r-really?"

"see! you think its weird! that's why i was so frustrated before you came in. it just- it just doesnt work. i dont know what it is. there's something clearly wrong with me," you were growing more and more exasperated by the minute, "ive never gone past second base with any boyfriend because of this. theyve all thought i was weird or broken or something, i'm just-"

"hey, hey. don't think like that. you're not broken. there's nothing wrong with it. if you dont like sex, that's-"

"but i do, vernon. i want to have sex with you!", you gasped at your own statement as soon as it left your mouth, showing clear embarrassment in your face, but you continued after collecting yourself, "i want to have sex. i just .. i dont know what to do. ive tried everything. there's something wrong with me. im sorry, vernon. i want to be with you so bad, - ive been wanting to go further with you - but i just didnt want to disappoint you like everyone else."

vernon was a bit devastated by your dejected demeanor. had every single ex of yours just given up on you? did they not even try to pull an orgasm out of you? the thought made him sad. then came the thought of you touching yourself night after night only to come out empty handed, with no orgasm nor pleasure to show for your efforts. that thought made him shudder. he thought about how well he could've taken care of you. how well he currently wanted to take care of you.

"baby ... you could never disappoint me. fuck, this whole time i thought you just didnt want to be with me. i- i'm sorry if i ever made you feel pressured. ill do things at whatever pace you want. just ... you're not weird. you're not broken, okay? im sorry anyone ever made you feel that way. im sorry no one ever took their time with you," he was genuinely apologetic over it. he had been thinking with his dick this whole time, not once stopping to consider that you had your reasons; very valid ones at that.

"thank you, vernon. i really appreciate it, really," you replied before pausing, taking a shaky breath before continuing, "you ... do you ... uh .."

"yeah, baby? what is it?"

"do you want to have sex? fuck, im sorry. i know that's such an unsexy way to ask. im sorry ive made this whole situation so uncomfortable. i should've just told you, or maybe just-"

he hummed against your lips as he interrupted your nervous rambling with a kiss, "hmm. baby. don't even worry about it. you didnt ruin anything. and you're the sexiest person alive, i ... i think about you all the time. ill take whatever you give me. anything is more than enough, okay?"

that seemed to make you get a little shy once again, "y-yeah. okay, thank you vernon."

vernon could tell what you wanted. i mean, you had literally told him you wanted to have sex with him. you just seemed to need some help getting there. he decided to save you any further embarrassment (even though in reality, he only found your shy demeanor adorable) and close the gap of your lips again.

he kissed you as softly and sensually as he could, pulling all stops to get you keening against him. within only some moments he was already hovering over you on your bed, your shirt ridden up to show your bare lower half. he began to sneak his hands over your shirt, slow enough to allow you to push him off if you wanted to. which you did. except it was only temporary, taking off your shirt altogether before pulling his lips back to yours, making the kiss grow even more intense.

vernon couldnt help moaning against your mouth the moment you moved his hands to play with your bare breasts, wrapping your legs around his waist and doing your best to incite him into humping against you. he didnt need any convincing, immediately digging his clothed crotch into yours. he fell in love with your soft moans, ones he had never heard before.

"nonnie ..." god, you were going to kill him. he wasnt even in you and he already felt like he was going to explode. but his priority right now was showing you that you weren't broken; that you were perfectly deserving of a mind-blowing orgasm.

"can i show you, baby? can i show you how to touch yourself?" he was completely serious too. he wanted not only to give you pleasure but also show you how to seek it on your own. he pictured you thinking about him when you were alone at night, fingers deep in your cunt as you-

"show me? what do you mean?"

"wanna teach you how to get there. can i?", he sat up, doing messy work of pulling off his pants and taking off his shirt, leaving himself in just his boxers before pulling you to sit up with him. he then guided you to sit on top of him as he sat against the headboard. your back was against his chest, with his arms now wrapped around you.

"nonnie ..."

"yeah, baby? whats wrong?", he was now allowing his hands to feel you up, loving how you arched against him the moment his fingers landed on your nipples, lightly pinching at them while he kissed your neck.

"im nervous ... im sorry, i know its dumb."

"its not dumb. is this okay? want me to slow down?"

"no! its fine. youre- you're perfect. i promise."

"okay. im gonna start now, then, okay?", he allowed one of his hands to sneak down, landing right where your cunt began, "im just gonna rub it for now, okay, baby? we'll go step by step."

"o-okay."

he rubbed at you, stopping by your clit every so often just to hear you mewl his name. he allowed his other hand to stay on your tits in the meantime, figuring that it was a sensitive spot for you that would also help you get there. you were extremely wet too, which gave him the idea that he was doing well so far. he had full confidence that he could make you cum. the thought of giving you your first orgasm did things to him.

"gonna put a finger in, okay? gon-"

"two! i can take it, nonnie, i swear. i ... i can already feel it."

"yeah? two? okay, baby. anything you want."

he had meant to start slow and build up his rhythm, but he was met with your desperate cunt chasing after his fingers every time he'd slow down. he figured you were ready for something more intense, so he began to give it his all.

"n-nonnie! fuck!" you grew limp against him, unable to control your moans of pleasure for him. you were beginning to tighten around him, which let him know all he needed to know.

"i- nonnie, i feel ... i feel weird. its so ... fuck ... its so good, nonnie! dont stop. fu- fuck! please!" you were getting progressively more desperate, specially as vernon began to play with your clit once more.

"cum, baby. wanna feel you, fuck. want my pretty girl to feel good," he pistoned his fingers in and out of you, making sure to curl them perfectly in order to hit that spot.

"n-nonnie! fuck!"

he let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your orgasm invade you, pulling his fingers out immediately to suck at them in a depraved manner he wasn't even aware he had in him. by the time he was done, your orgasm had worn down, leaving you panting against him.

"that ... shit, vernon."

"i told you. told you you weren't broken. fuck, can't believe none of those assholes never even fingered you properly."

"yeah .. i mean, i also never-"

"shh, baby. none of it was your fault. now you know, right? next time you need it, you know how to do it. or, you know, just call me," you bad turned around by now, still sitting on him but now facing him as he spoke.

"thank you, vernon. im sorry i made you feel like i didnt want you," you pouted at him, "god, i cant believe i missed out on that for so long."

"right? uh, anything else you want me to show you?"

you threw him a flirty smile, sensually running your hands up and down his torso, "i had a few ideas, actually."

his eyes widened, "shit, really?"

"yeah ... there's a few other things i need to learn. teach me?"

he had never been more ready (and horny) for anything else before.

[wherenymphsroam]

leon actually has like …. breeder balls. it’s actually so bad. they’re probably so warm n big and hang so pretty. just makes you wanna nuzzle your face into him, mouth at him idly.

and I say that in like … a non sexual context.

(cw: implied ddlg, reader with an oral fixation)

you just love him so much, you trust him so much. sometimes even just the sound of his voice has you melting into a puddle against him. he’s noticed it, it’s hard not to. but he’s not about to point out your… mouthy habits.

in all honesty, he finds it adorable. how needy you get for him, in the most mundane of situations. go ahead, tug at his jeans when you curl up on the couch to watch a movie. get on your knees under his desk on the rare occasion he uses his home office. he’ll acknowledge you with a stroke of his fingers through your hair and a hum of contentment when your mouth finds his bulge through his boxers. he’ll even help you tug his jeans down, maybe just enough to get at the warmth of his crotch, about mid thigh.

really, he should get hard every time you surprise him with a tap of his thigh or a tug at his belt. but at his age, he didn’t feel the need to be hard, to find your greed overtly sexual.

sure, he’ll press your thighs to your chest and fuck you into the mattress later that night, but this … it’s different. the effect he has on you — the fog that clouds your brain when you lap at his soft cock, the weight of your lashes fluttering, the slur to your speech when he talks to you like that — it’s not something sexual, more often than not. you’re just … safe. he make you feel safe, and he loves that.

however.

on the off chance you do end up getting a lil drunk on him, drool coating your chin, lashes fluttering so sweetly… maybe his dick will twitch in interest. you’re so pretty, almost nauseatingly so. it really does make his head spin sometimes, thinking about how the hell he ended up with such a pretty baby attached to his hip. but to see you so eager, so greedy for him and him alone …. so much so that you’re pushing his fingers past your lips at a moments notice, whining for him to slide his sweats down …

sometimes, he thinks you just might be the death of him.

[bookyeom]

anything but shy - lsm

pairing: dokyeom x reader word count: 1.6k warnings: a single swear i think, alcohol, kissing, a little suggestive but not much summary: seokmin is shy… kind of.

A/N: FINALLY A LITTLE ONE FOR MY ANGEL BABY LOVE OF MY LIFE SEOKMIN. It’s just a small one, but it came to me and I love him. That’s all.

“Seokmin — oof.”

The man beside you giggles as he tries to right himself against you after stumbling, mumbling an apology that doesn’t seem quite genuine. The two of you finally make it down the hall to his bedroom door, and he moves to put all of his weight against the door frame. He’s not even pretending that he’s not watching you, which makes you feel all sorts of funny on the inside, because when he’s sober, Seokmin is as shy as they come. 

You can’t count the number of times you’ve caught him looking, only for him to flush and look away when you do. Your friends keep telling you that he likes you, that the two of you act like way more than friends, and you’ve kind of given up on denying it at this point. He’s your friend, and sure — you’ve thought about what his lips might taste like. Or what those beautiful hands might feel like against your skin. That’s beyond the point.

Since you’d gotten him back to his apartment, you’d managed to get some water in him. He seems to be pretty sobered up already, but you can tell there’s enough liquid courage left in him for him not to care that he’s being obvious. You try your best to ignore his intense gaze as you turn the handle, kicking a pair of shoes out of the way that block the path to his bed. You reach for and tug on his wrist, pulling him into the room behind you, and the two of you finally make it to sit on the end of his bed. He doesn’t make a move to lay down, his head lolling onto your shoulder with a contented sigh. You try desperately to ignore the chill that shoots down your spine when you feel his breath against your neck, when you feel the weight of his side pressed into yours. 

“You’ve gotta get changed, Seok.”

Seokmin shakes his head. “Too much effort.”

“Well I’m not dressing you for bed.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then you can hear his sharp inhale against your neck as he says, “Will you undress me, then?” 

What the fuck?

You absolutely cannot do this. 

“Sorry,” he adds a moment later, his voice much quieter, and you can almost hear him second guessing himself.

You choose to ignore him for both of your benefits as you gently push his head up and off your shoulder. He whines but stands up, making his way over to his dresser. You avert your eyes quickly as you fall back onto his bed, but you’re not fast enough to miss him pulling his shirt off over his head. You squeeze your eyes shut, the image of his tan back and shoulders seared into the back of your eyelids.

You’ve been trying desperately not to dwell on any of Seokmin’s flirty little gestures or comments for a long time now. You’ve been friends for a while and it happens often when he’s drunk, which was difficult to handle at first — but manageable. The problem is that recently, he’s been teasing you while entirely sober, too. You wonder when he’d gained his confidence; you think it might have something to do with the way Soonyoung and Mingyu have been hyping him up at the gym. 

It’s subtle, and still very Seokmin, the way he goes about it. A little squeeze of your hand before he gets up to leave; a wink as he pays for your coffee; a compliment that catches you by surprise. You have no idea how to react to any of it because he’s just like that so effortlessly — so full of teasing remarks and kindness. It’s been shaking you to your core, and you wonder if he knows. On occasions that are few and far between, you manage to catch him off guard in return with a flirty remark. You cherish those moments. 

You wince as you replay the evening. Tonight, he’d been an absolute menace. And by that you mean he’d hardly left your side, brushing soft touches across your back and shoulders, grasping for your fingers when the group of you went anywhere. You know he didn’t even drink that much, so you can’t help but wonder why he’s being extra flirty tonight. 

Your breath and thoughts are promptly stolen from you with a whoosh as Seokmin sprawls on top of you without warning. You let out a groan at the sudden weight. 

“Ow,” you whine, and he just hums in response. 

“You’re really comfy,” he mumbles against your shoulder. He sounds shy again, a completely different person from the one you’d seen just moments before. You can feel your heartbeat pick up at the realization, at the thought of you being the one to make him feel shy. You momentarily forget about the pain you’re in when he adds, mumbling, “The comfiest.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He nods, lips brushing against your skin as he hums. Neither of you speak for a few moments, and you find yourself holding your breath in the silence. You can feel him against every part of you, and you’re terrified that he’ll hear how fast your heart is beating with him this close.

“I think I’m more comfortable with you than anyone else.” He says the words so softly that it makes your head spin.

Oh. 

Your hand lifts on instinct to the hair at the back of his neck. You feel him still for a moment before he relaxes, and you let your fingers start to play with the strands. He sinks further into you with a sigh. You desperately don’t want to move, don’t want to break whatever is happening here — but it’s really starting to get a little hard to breathe. 

“Seokmin,” you try again softly, and this time he lifts his head to look at you. The breath is effectively knocked out of you when his eyes meet yours, soft and hesitant, and you swallow. “I don’t want to disturb you, and I know you want to show off that you’ve been working out… but you’re really heavy.” 

His eyes go so wide that you’d laugh if you weren’t in the position you’re in. “Shit! Sorry, oh my god.” He moves to push himself off of you in a panic, but you keep him from going too far with your arms around his neck. 

“I didn’t say I wanted you to let go,” comes out before you can stop it, and you watch Seokmin’s face switch from horrified to surprised to pleased, all in the span of ten seconds. Confident Seokmin is back, and you’re screwed. 

Because it only takes a second for his hands to slide around your back, another half a second to flip you over. Then you’re suddenly on top of him, pressed down against his chest as he beams up at you. “Does this work for you?” He smiles. “Works great for me.”

He’s flirting with you. 

On purpose. 

Sweet, shy Seokmin is flirting with you, looking you dead in the eyes as he does. 

“I wanted to play with your hair,” you finally manage in an attempt to tease back, and you know you’ve succeeded when Seokmin smiles so wide you wonder if it hurts. He lets his head fall back against the pillow, his hands squeezing against your lower back as he makes a show of getting comfortable.

“You may continue,” he finally says dramatically.

You roll your eyes, but the fond smile on your lips gives you away. It fades slightly as you stare down at him, and he gazes back, watching and waiting for you to make the next move. He’s so handsome, you think, all big brown eyes and soft touches, the only indication that he might be nervous seen in the way he swallows thickly in the silence. Your eyes travel across his face as your hand lifts to brush his hair back behind his ear, and you break eye contact as your finger trails down to gently play with the hair that curls just behind his ear. 

“Are you sober right now?”

Your question comes out timid. You can feel him look at you, as serious as ever, hands squeezing where they’re linked together against your back as he replies, “I only had two beers.” He waits for you to meet his eyes again before he adds, “I’m nervous, but I didn’t want to rely on liquid courage tonight. Not with you.” 

You can feel your heart skip a beat inside your chest. “What do you need the courage for?” 

He opens and closes his mouth for a moment, debating. Then he squeezes his eyes shut. “To tell you that I like you a lot and want to date you, mostly.”

You had kind of expected him to say something along those lines, based on your current predicament. 

Does that mean you were prepared for it? Absolutely not.

“Mostly?” Is all you can manage. 

“Also to tell you that you’re super hot and funny.” His eyes are still closed, eyebrows furrowed, and your hand moves to rest against his jaw.

“Seokmin.” He opens one eye, then two. You are so fond. “You’re super hot and funny, too. Also, yes.”

”Yes?” He repeats, and you nod.

”I want to date you, Seok. Yes.”

He blinks up at you, jaw slack, before he murmurs, “Holy shit.”

You can’t come up with an answer to that. So you do the next best thing: you lean down to capture his lips with yours. And you’re quick to learn that Seokmin is anything but shy when it comes to kissing you.

Taglist: @wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“My darling.” // CelticSlave!Aemond Targaryen x VestalVirgin!Reader

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

Summary: Fetching water a little later than usual shouldn't really affect much of your life right? You're wrong, and you wouldn't find out until you found a celtic slave in a bad condition named Aemond.

WARNINGS: extreme noncon to dubcon, unprotected p in v sex, blood kink, degradation, breeding kink, violence, blood, murder, slight angst, stockholm syndrome(?), reader basically falls in love with Aemond even though he nonconned her, manipulation. not exactly historically accurate, this is just fiction so do not take it heart, hoping it isn't offensive, + not proofread // requested by @slytherincursebreaker !!

WC: 3.5k

You were an illegitimate daughter of a politician in your country, taken away from your mother to keep the scandal underground, you never had an easy life and your father only did the bare minimum, and to say your step mother and half siblings did not like you at all, they saw you as a pest more than anything, when the pontifex maximus was choosing vestal virgins to serve the goddess vesta, he had eyes for your family, specifically your sister but she did not want to go, and so they sent you instead, seizing the opportunity to get rid of you.

It did not mean you were fully free from their clutches however, as you grew in the monastery you were always slightly discriminated against but the other 5 priestess, having heard the rumours about your bastardised birth. But you still managed to get by, you remember how earlier this morning your half sister came to visit you, telling you that she is to be married soon, she came to rub it in your face because you were sworn to celibacy, and you could not engage in activities like such. She even bought her suitor along, who you swore looked at you with such lust, and you felt very creeped out.

This is why you deliberately didn't go and fetch water from the spring earlier today, he often came to visit the temple and watched you perform your duties to the goddess vesta.

Choosing to fetch water at such a late time shouldn't have any repercussions right? I mean, you did not do it earlier because you had a reason not to, not wanting to entertain the eyes of your half sister's suitor, so you're doing it now.

Wrong.

You didn't realise the threat back then, when you found Aemond being beaten up by a bunch of other men, kindness was something that came to you naturally, seeing him in such a state made your heart wrench, you shooed off the other men, reprimanding them for their behaviour and used your status as a vestal virgin to scare them off before looking down at the man who was covered in mud, and seemed to bleeding.

He had silver blonde hair, with only one eye as the other socket seemed empty, you wondered what had happened to him.

“Are you alright?” you ask and you he groans, turning over unto his back, you should leave, you shouldn't help him, but here you are picking him up, leaning his body weight against you and bringing him through one of the secret tunnels in underneath the infrastructure of the building, it was connected directly to another country, was made to use it in order to escape from war or to invade other lands, none of the common folk knew about this, and the people who knew didn't come here often either, as there was no such need for it anymore.

You sit him down in one of the 'rooms' which is just a big spacious squared tunnel, he plops down unto the ground weak and tired, breathing heavily, you quickly went back outside and fetched the water you forgot about and gave some of it for him to drink, you watched as he whimpered, swallowing in pain before he finally looked at you.

“T-thank you.” his voice was so weak, he was barely able to get any words out.

You gave him a gentle smile, and you realised that it was probably late, you had many questions for him but you kept it to yourself for now because you didn't want to bother him anymore, so left back to the temple where you resided.

“Why are you up so late?” you heard the head vestal ask, raising an eyebrow as she took in your appearance, mud covering your prestigious clothing, “I went to fetch the water head priestess, but I fell down on the way back.” you lie looking down, hoping she believes it, and to your surprise, she does believe it, she tells you to go to your quarters after putting the water down, so you do just that.

You visit the badly hurt person from yesterday once again, you knew you were not supposed to have any type of contact with a man, to remain pure as they will taint you, but you really could care less when its about helping others, you found him lying on the ground, likely sleeping, but your footsteps woke him up and he looked at you curiously, you gave him a small smile before giving him the bread you managed to sneak out without anyone noticing, along with water, you gave it to them and sat down, he reluctantly ate it before drinking the water. “Why are you doing this?” he asked you and you shrugged, “Is it so wrong to help a fellow human out?” you question back and he goes quiet, “You i never really got your name, or how you ended up in that situation.” you tilt your head as you watch him purse his lips.

“I am a celtic sex slave.”

You froze, he was a slave.

“My mistress threw me out, and I ended up on the streets without any shelter, and those men just wanted someone to mess with.” he sighs, swallowing the bread. You felt pity for him.

“Till you found me of course, I am extremely indebted to you my lady.” he says and you shake your head no, “I’m no lady, I am a vestal virgin that title is not of my belonging.” You said, and he tilted his head, not understanding what you had meant, he nodded but then his eyes widened “This is such an honour to be in the presence of such a being, sorry you must see me in this state, and… You had to touch me as well.” he apologises and you look down, you shake your head and tell him that it's okay and you did not mind.

You and Aemond had grown closer, he would tell you about his life before he became a sex slave, how he was treated, how you felt extremely bad, how your people treated the Celtics. And so you shared your problems in return as well, he provided you comfort which you lacked all of your life, for the first time you felt wanted, and you could not ignore the feeling that was starting to bloom inside you.

But you pushed it down, you are a celibate, you should not be feeling such things.

Aemond had taken a liking to you, you had a pretty soul as well as a pretty face, the way you looked in your white clothing, and whenever you would fix your scarf over the head afraid that your hair or skin would show made him more curious to see what is underneath the thick robes of clothing even more. He knows damn well that he isn't the first man to ever lust for a vestal virgin, there were many depraved others.

After Aemond recovered, you had showed him around the tunnels and dungeons, various routes that if something happens he can use them to escape, and you also showed the route which led to his country, and he noted it, telling you that he can use this to go back to his own people again and you gave him a small smile.

Though the thought of him leaving makes your heart wrench.

“Aemond, I have to go and attend to my duties now, I will meet you later okay?” you say quickly before leaving.

Though the later never came.

“She was caught sneaking around with a slave apparently, she kept him hidden, surely she committed adultery as well.” you heard the voice of the chief priestess tell the priest.

“That is utmost dishonourable, as a vestal virgin you are sworn to celibacy, how can you do this?!” He yells at you and you flinch, tears streaming down your face.

“I promise! I promise on the flame of vesta that nothing happened between us! I was just helping him out.” you plead on your knees.

“How can I believe you? That you are not ruined? You were helping a sex slave out? you want me to believe that?” he questions and you shake your head.

“Order her death by live burial, she will be buried underground with no food or water.” he commands, tone final.

You watched as one of the virgins who snitched on you, she smiled cruelly and your face turned into a scowl. She was the one who wasn't a virgin, yet you kept her secret knowing what would happen if others found out, but the moment she discovered something about you? She had gone straight to the chief priestess and told her, even fed her lies.

“No! No! Please listen to me! Nothing happened between us! You can check for my virginity if you want! Please.” you cried, at the priest and he simply dismissed you.

You were grabbed by his guards and were being led to your doom, dragged out of the temple forcefully and then the trial was processing when you heard a commotion, accompanied by panicked screams.

“There has been a rebellion! The celtics have rebelled against us!” You hear someone yell, and everyone panics, the guards that were holding you quickly let go before rushing off to fight, you run after them and go to the temple as well, eyes widening in horror as you saw the blood and how few of priestesses were being violated brutally by the rebels, their clothes were being torn by the celtic soldiers and you were spotted by two men who came over to you, grabbing you by your hands and shoving you onto the ground.

“This one's pretty, let me have her cunt first.” you screamed at them to let go and they fought against them, kicking one of them in the shins cause the man to stumble and fall, “This bitch–”

“Stop.”

They both immediately froze up and turned around, and you froze as well, recognizing the voice. “This one is mine, unless you want your heads fucking cut off, fuck off.” he spits harshly at them, and they bow their head before scurrying off and you furrow your eyebrows, Aemond looks at you with a smirk, the empty eye socket from before now held a blue sapphire in its place snuggly.

“This would not have been possible without you, I shall spare you for this.” he begins, pulling you up on your legs by the hair.

“W-why are you doing this?!” you asked in fear and Aemond shrugged before explaining, “For the benefit of my people of course, you Romans have treated us as nothing but barbarians, however I do not blame you for that, you are a kind soul.”

“I threw my life away for this, let myself get touched by filthy hands for this moment, and finally, it was all worth it in the end.” he chuckles cruelly, and you scrunch your face in a scowl, “The emperor—” you begun but you are quickly cut off by him yanking your hair and making you face where a body was laying, head detached from the body, he tuts, “This one?” he pulls out a head and shoves it right up into your face and you push it away, screaming, he lets gos of the head and it falls to the ground rolling away.

“He was nothing but a coward, running off in the secret tunnels, letting his people die, unworthy of ruling over the people, so instead, I became the new emperor.” he clarifies.

“If you are going to kill me, just do it already.” you spit, and he looks surprised at this.

“Doll, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long ago, besides I said that I would already spare you, since you were a kind soul, and once again, without you, I would not be here.” he smiles cruelly and you feel your stomach twist.

His grip on your hair leaves before it's attached to your forearm, hand gripping the skin cruelly as he drags you somewhere, and you noticed that it was the head priestess room, the nearest one in the temple. You quickly realised what he wanted to do, so you started struggling, annoyed by this, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, before carrying and entering the room inside, securing the curtain shut before he threw you on the bed.

You try to get up and run away but he pushes you on the bed, gets on top of you, and yanks your clothes away, tearing at your robes harshly, revealing your body to him, you quickly hide yourself but he pins your hands to your side and takes in your body, he groans at the sight of your chest heaving up and down, you wriggle underneath him, trying to kick him off but he captures your legs and pushes them apart before planting himself in between them.

“No! Please! No!” you cry out but he shuts you up with one of his hands, the other one quickly undoes his breeches, revealing his hard cock, he gives himself a few pumps and lines it up against your entrance. His tip prods at your entrance, he doesn't wait a second before shoving his cock inside of you, ripping your walls apart, making you scream in pain as you struggled beneath him, he watches as your blood leaks onto his cock, and his smiles at that before he looks at you, watching tears stream down your face as he takes what he wants, he immediately sets his pace at a brutal one, ramming his cock in and out of you.

Each movement was painful for you, your cries and screams muffled by his hand, your body jolting up the bed as he brutally thrusts inside, traumatising your walls, the free hand grips your breasts cruelly before he pinches your nipple harshly, causing you to arch your back, and whine loudly.

Using the least amount of strength you have you push him heavily off, and to your luck it works cause he is caught off guard making him fall next to you, and before you could get up and run, he grabs your waist and pushes you back onto the bed again, getting on top of you and choking your neck with both his hands.

“I was going to spare you, but it seems you do not want that, take it or fucking die.” he spits on your face and you wince, crying out once again as he enters inside you.

Your body betrays you, you know it when it suddenly starts to feel good, his tip hitting a certain spot inside of you, and soon you're moaning as well, unable to process this foreign sensation. “Yeah, that's more like it, my brave girl.” he coos and bends down to kiss your neck and you whimper when he bites down at your sensitive area.

You grab onto his shoulders for support, and he hums in satisfaction, one of his hands travel down to your clit before rubbing fast circles it, and you felt your stomach tighten at that, before something snapped and you were moaning extremely loudly, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure hit you like a huge wave.

You cried out his name, and he hushed you and continued to thrust inside of you, grunting, you felt his thrusts become more sloppy before he halted, pushing himself into you as far as he could go, and moaned as his seed spurted out of him, he slowly rode it out, painting more of your walls white.

“I want to see you pregnant.” his hand rests on the lower part of your abdomen, as he caresses it gently with his thumb, before pulling out and leaning down to pepper kisses on the area, as if a kiss will ensure your pregnancy.

His hands fondle with your boobs, thumbs flicking the nipples as he massages the flesh, “they will be filled with milk..” he says in a daze.

You saw him getting hard again and your eyes widened, before you could get up on your elbows, he pushed you down once again again, holding your legs apart and pushing them up, making the knees bend, touching your chest.

He lines his cock before shoving it brutally inside again, he trapped you in a mating press while he thrusted above, your walls drummed with pain at the overstimulation, you were whimpering.

“Fucking it take it you slut, look at how your expression matches that of a whore.” he degrades you, hips snapping at each words, you felt a sting in your heart at his mean behavior.

“This is what you were made for, to be a fucking whore that men can use, not a vestal virgin, having this much of a perfect cunt and wasting it is unbelievable.” he groans and you feel tears start to fall down at his insults.

He pulled back and groaned at the sight of how there was still blood covered on his cock, your blood which coated him so perfectly, and he felt him nearing his edge, his hand gripped your cheeks before forcing your mouth open and then he spit into it, “Swallow, you whore.” he commands and you obey scared.

“Fuck, you're my whore aren't you? my pretty little whore who will let me fuck my children into.” he moans. “I can't wait to make you mine, my empress who will rule along with me, give me children, my darling- oh fuck—”

You felt the familiar feeling of heat arise in your stomach again, as he hits the same spot again and again, and soon enough, you're once again reaching your peak, arching your back at the intensity, he then finishes inside of you again.

That night was a nightmare, he took you multiple times, he made you take him in your mouth, and he did the same, lapping at your cunt for hours on end as he relished in your taste.

You remember passing out, unable to take anymore as exhaustion weighed upon you.

You woke up groaning, you slept like a baby, that's until you moved a little bit and your body aches like hell itself, and you get up, stretching to relieve the pain, you looked over to your side and spotted Aemond fast asleep, completely bare and then you remembered the events of the night prior.

You saw the sheets which were now covered in your blood, your virgin blood, and you were pure no more. You felt doom settle in your core but you felt relieved in a weird sense of way.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside, you gathered whatever was left of your robes before covering yourself with it, hiding your intimate parts and exiting the room.

You gasped as the scent of blood hit your nostrils, and almost threw up, but then what caught your eye made you surprised, you noticed how the head priestess, and all the people who have wronged you in the middle, tied up as the guards lazily kept them in check.

When they spotted you, they screamed insults at you and you winced, anger coursing through your veins at such an intense rate.

“My empress, look at them, look at the people who wronged you.” you heard Aemond whisper in your ear from behind you, and you got startled, you turned to look at him and you watched as he was almost naked except the sheets which were loosely held together by him on his lower body, hiding his intimate part, the same sheets which were covered in your blood.

“Look at them, see how they are still blaming you? What do you want to do huh? Does it not make you mad?” he asks and you turn your attention back to them again, it frankly does make you mad. “I would never treat you like that, I love you. My queen.”

“What do you want, my little empress?” he asks and you make up your mind.

You collect the water in a small dish and Aemond watches you in confusion, but then you make your way towards the flame of vesta, and pour water over it, putting it out and the head priestess' eyes widen in horror.

“Kill them all.” your voice was more clear than ever.

“Spare the head priestess, and that one, for they shall be buried alive.” you say coldly before you walk back to Aemond, who welcomes you in his arms.

“You heard your queen, do as she commands.” he orders his men before he escorts you away from the scene and into the room once again.

He pushes you on the bed and crawls atop of you, “I wasn't joking when I said I want you pregnant, doll.” he coos and you gulp.

“Impregnate me, my king, I want to carry your heirs.”

And that was enough to make Aemond go insane, before he took you once again.

And soon, you fell pregnant.

Giving birth to a girl, who Aemond adored.

Life seemed to be well and perfect.

Maybe you don't really regret this at all.

———

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[nomazee]

“This is unnecessary.”

At Blade’s snide comment, you pull sharply at the strands of his hair in your hands. He grunts in displeasure before obediently quieting down, only a little scared of you scalping him if he annoys you any further. 

Perched behind him on the couch while he sits on the floor, your hands find themselves coming through his hair (long, smooth, untangled despite the fact that you’ve never seen him take a brush to it). Your efforts to part his hair with just your fingers are fruitless. His hair is thick on the top, so much so that you’re surprised his neck doesn’t constantly ache with the weight of it. Your hands pause, resting on the top of his head while you try and figure out how you’ll style it. 

“Be nice,” you warn, two hands on the sides of his head tilting it from side to side, treating him as a foam mannequin on which you can project your very thorough cosmetology skills. “Your fate is quite literally in my hands. I could knock you out and shave you bald very easily.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says earnestly, and you can’t help the way your lips twinge into a smile. “This is clearly a hassle. My hair looks fine the way it is.”

“It does,” you admit, “but wouldn’t it be nice to try something new? And at no cost to you, aside from mild scalp pain. I’m good at hair. I did Kafka’s that one time.” You fail to mention that it was only one time for good reason. Kafka said that you handle hair the same way a lobster would handle a violin—that is, with clumsy hands and a clear lack of refinement. She had to hide every pair of scissors from you in fear that you'd give Silver Wolf microbangs.

As if on cue, your fingers get caught in an unexpected snag in Blade’s hair, and you pull and tug and yank as if expecting it to untangle on its own. Blade hisses and reaches a hand back to smack you on the wrist, turning around to glare at you. 

“Watch it,” he orders, gentle but firm. There’s not enough heat in his words to scare you, and his eyes are a particularly beautiful shade of copper in the dim, flickering light of this dingy lounge room. Whatever you say, beautiful, you think to yourself hysterically. 

After a few half-willed apologies from you and some nudges of encouragement, Blade finally relaxes enough to turn back around and tilt his head back in your lap, letting your fingers play with his hair nonsensically. A braid, you decide, would look quite nice on him. One long one down the back. If you had ribbon, you’d use some to tie his hair, but all you have is one of Kafka’s tragically thin hair ties. 

“It’s a nice color,” you comment absentmindedly, pretending that you can’t see the way Blade’s eyes have shut in contentment at your gentle prodding. “It changes in the light a little bit. It looks very blue now, but I’ve always thought it was black.” You section his hair off into three pieces, loosely laying one over the other over and over again. The aged gold ornament still hangs securely in his hair, and you don’t do anything to move it. It suits him. 

“It’s natural, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he tells you, the slightest twinge of a joke in his voice. It plays at your smile and at your heart, too. 

“You say that now, but you’ll be scrambling to come up with a lie when I find box dye in your bag.” 

He only hums in response, reluctantly enjoying the feeling of your hands on him—they’re gentle, and you can imagine he’s not quite used to this. It’s an addictive feeling, to have him at your mercy, even with just your hands in his hair. There’s trust, unspoken, lingering warmly in the air and settling like condensation on your skin. You could very easily do a number of things that would hurt Blade—kill him, almost. You’ve only ever thought of it a few times, and those were all a very long time ago. 

You don’t think of it that often anymore. All you’re paying attention to is Blade and the splitting ends of his hair and how nice he’d look with a red ribbon tied in. 

“We should go shopping,” you tell him, voice close to a whisper now. You’ve secured the end of his braid already, and your handiwork is admirable. The strands are neatly crossed over each other, uniform in size with each other as they taper down into the end. “Some clips for you would be nice.” Absentmindedly, you comb through the layers of hair near his face, digging your fingers gently into the sides of his face and scratching at his scalp. 

“And where exactly would we go shopping? We’re not exactly upstanding members of society in some people’s eyes.” 

“Then I’ll make clips for you,” you say, a naive kind of dedication in your tone. “I used to work with metal, a little bit. I could make jewelry. Ornaments for your hair. I’ll put a ribbon in next time.” 

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” Blade asks doubtfully, in steep contrast with the way he lets your hands roam along his scalp, and the way his head leans back into you as if he’s comfortable. 

“You’re a loyal customer,” you quip, “you’d never let somebody else do your hair when you have me as a dedicated stylist.” 

“I’m your only customer.” 

“I know,” and in a moment of weakness—because at the end of the day that’s what you are, weak, malleable and moveable when you’re with Blade like this—you lean down just a little bit, pressing a stupid clumsy kiss on the crown of his head. Your fingers trail down to trace the bumps of the braid, the divots and grooves in it, made by your hands, and yours alone. “That just means I can put all my effort towards you alone.” 

“You shouldn’t.” And he means it when he says that, and it hurts you, puts a sickly pang in your chest that you want to reach for and tear out before it grows into something worse. 

“But I will,” you tell him. Blade is stubborn, but not stubborn enough to keep it up. Not now, not here, not when the overhead lights are flickering and making his hair look just a little bluer, illuminating the warmer ends of his hair, glinting off the metal ornament still clipped into it. He rests between your hands, still sitting on the cold floor, pretending that he isn’t falling asleep with you like the fool he secretly is.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

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[alrtyhoney]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS 

(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)

The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)

There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper. 

You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time. 

Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.

He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers. 

“Is your papa coming, bebita?” 

The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up. 

– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.

“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time. 

“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”

You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.

Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut. 

“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.” 

She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.” 

The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?

She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?” 

It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.

“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”

But you knew that wasn’t the case. 

While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school. 

It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why. 

This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.

“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.” 

It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.

“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."

Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else. 

“No reason.” 

It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame. 

Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?

You dared not to talk about it too.

Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.

But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out. 

You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.

Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.

Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes. 

The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.

“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.” 

The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies. 

“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.” 

“But I worked really hard for this.”

You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.

He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”

If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?

You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead. 

“Of course.” 

After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.

But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.

The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.

“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”

And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you. 

“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?” 

“Not hungry.” 

Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”

“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.

“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”

Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting. 

You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.

Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi. 

You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–” 

And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another. 

“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”

“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.

Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this? 

“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”

“And it was my birthday!” 

“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.

“You just had to be late– on my birthday!” 

“I have work, baby, you know this.” 

“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.

And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”

Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”  

It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"

But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”

And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. 

You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?

“My birthday was two days ago.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots. 

“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet. 

He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.

“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that. 

The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.

You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.

“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.” 

And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?

[doobea]

I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.

contents: fem!reader, explicit content (f!oral receiving, m!oral receiving, fingering, my lame attempt to write dirty talk, blindfolds, virginity loss), characters are all in their mid/late-20s, romcom, fluffy smut (if that's even a thing), feels like PWP (there's like 3 smut scenes?) and also mini sex ed, sae makes an appearance!!!, wholesome ending hehe, mdni word count: 8K (idk this could've been split up into two parts but here we are) a/n: words cannot describe how happy i am to see this whim of a series turn into something so huge in a short span!! like tysm!! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy the final part :)

四 : call me Mr. Flintstone, I can make your bed rock -> prev.

Tuesdays are miserable for Rin.

They're usually reserved for prepping for press conferences, answering emails from sponsorships, and posting on his socials to increase interactions with his followers - all courtesy of Ego's 'Blue Lock: Career Manager' program. Tuesdays are the only days when Rin can work from home but it drains the most energy out of him.

Today he wakes up before his alarm, a rare occurrence, and notices an oddly large amount of sunlight in the room. He shifts around and tries to yawn, only realizing that his jaw is stiff and sore from the night before. It soon dawns upon him that he's in your bed and feels the extra weight on the left side. He tilts his head down, eyes softening at the sight of you in his shirt, snuggled right up against his bare chest with just the tiniest of drools sweeping out of your lips, but he doesn't mind.

There's a sudden urge to use the bathroom but he rests in bed for a few moments longer. His fingers brush some of your locks away from your frame and watches as your eyes flutter under closed lids at the contact. He starts counting your breaths in intervals, almost trying to calculate your heartbeat in his weird little head, and begins to feel overwhelmed by how right it feels to be laying next to you.

Tuesdays just got better for Rin.

The first beat of his alarm goes off and he's fast to put it to snooze in order to not disrupt your slumber. The athlete takes this moment as motivation to get up and gently sweeps you over to your sides before crawling out of bed. His back creaks, aches, and pops when he pulls himself to his feet and attempts to do his routine yoga stretches. And, at that moment, Rin decides that he'll make his favorite dish for breakfast.

Your nose twitches you awake from the fragrant earthy smell emanating from the kitchen. You sit up a bit too fast, vision going white as you're hit in the face with the immediate morning shine, and groan. Sounds of stacking plates and water trickling in the background are soon followed by the shuffling of slippers coming close to your direction as you see your shirtless husband carrying in a breakfast tray occupied by two bowls of green tea rice with bream and tall glasses of water.

"Good morning," He sets down the tray on the bedside table and leans forward to plant a kiss on your cheek, "did you sleep well?"

"You wouldn't believe it," You shoot him a cheeky grin, "maybe we should do this more often."

He raises an amused brow, "Sleeping together?"

You shrug back with a teasing look, "If that's what you wanna call it then sure."

The mattress lets out a small squeak as Rin sits down, quickly cupping the sides of your face into his for a deeper kiss. The heat of his mouth on yours feels all too welcoming that you can't help but relax your head back down to the pillow. You find yourself eagerly returning his kisses, searching for his tongue with yours and gently nipping at the corner of his mouth.

Rin breaks free for a moment, redness evident on his cheeks, "The food."

You slouch forward, lips brushing over his neck which causes him to tense up, "I'm sure we can spare just 15 minutes, right?"

"Right, 15 minutes." He breathes and looks at you, "Is there anything you want me to do?"

For the past year, you've dreamt of Rin saying this exact question over a dozen times with a dozen of different answers. Whether it be him kissing you until you were a sloppy wreck, leaving hickeys and love marks all over each other's bodies until his teammates complained, or having him absolutely fuck you into oblivion.

"Up to you."

Rin nods and pulls off the blanket covering you, admiring how cute you looked in his baggy t-shirt, and lowers himself further until his face is right between your thighs. He leaves a trail of kisses along the side of your right thigh, lips moving lower, engulfing the hot candy-coated skin. You can feel yourself growing wetter and start to whine, instinctively grinding your hips against the mattress.

"Calm down." You hear him whisper, breath hot against your wet center.

"Rin." You don't know how many times you were going to cry out his name, but you needed him to understand.

As his mouth hovers over the area that you had no idea was so needy until now, he continues to kiss the insides of your thighs, forcing you to turn your entire body to the side in search of some form of pressure. His name makes its way past your lips again and, at that sound, he holds tighter to your thighs to spread them apart. Rin stares at your dripping opening, spreading it open with two fingers for so long that you look down to meet his dangerous teal eyes.

"I have a meeting in 30." He says as if it was dirty talk and you almost end up laughing but saved the energy to give a light squeeze at his head with your thighs.

"So make it fast."

Rin nods slowly, and soon, his hot, firm tongue is on your sensitive nub. He moves in long, fast strokes, caressing the neediest part of your body while one of his rigid hands settles onto your hip, rooting you against the mattress. You screw your eyes shut at the action, feeling the pleasure beginning to inch its way up to your stomach, and made the realization your husband has already made note of all of your sweet spots in just two sessions.

Your rapid moans begin to fill the room and you attempt to lift your hips against his strength, every muscle in your abdomen tightening as you try to concentrate on finding release.

"Rin, I'm clo—"

A loud blaring ringtone from Rin's pocket snaps you both out of the intoxicated spell and he groans in frustration. He gets up to sit on the end of the mattress, picking up his call with a swift swipe. You can't make out the exact words from the line but, from Rin's pursed lips and hard expression, you knew it was work-related.

"Yeah, I'll hop on in just a second. Thanks." The call drops with a beep.

You pull the blankets up to cover yourself, trying to hide the disappointment stretched on your face, "Ego?"

"Yeah," Rin sighs and throws you an apologetic look, "we'll continue later? My sponsors started the meeting early."

"Mhm, that's fine." You give his arm a small squeeze, a secret way of saying 'Go fuck them up'. And he squeezes back, his way of saying 'I will'.

Rin's meeting with his sponsors is... interesting.

Like most people who know him, he likes to keep things relatively minimal and doesn't like showing much of his personality other than what people usually see on screen - deadpan and curt. And he prefers to keep it as such. Though, and he blames Ego, his recent sportswear sponsors have been pressuring him to 'change' his persona for their new campaign (and gaining a new wide customer audience of course). And the theme for that? Eros.

"Has anyone told you that you have a hidden sex appeal?"

Rin almost chokes on his drink before responding quietly, "Not many?" Aside from you, that is.

The middle-aged man on his laptop screen laughs, "We'd think you'd be perfect, but you need to flesh out that side of you."

"Huh," is all Rin could say because why would athletic wear even be sexy in the first place?

"We're a bit busy today on site but if you could send us full body shots in these poses," the man sends over a link in the chat, "we'll compensate ten thousand for that and then the rest on the day of the shoot, deal?"

Getting these types of offers is usually rare in Rin's case. Brands tend to fit their representative's aesthetics rather than molding them into something they're not. But sometimes they can get a bit ruthless with their pestering.

He clicks on the link and a separate tab opens up, revealing a series of seductive mock-ups of a blindfolded shirtless model in tight Nike boxers. This is what they wanted him to do? Just so they can sell some underwear? Rin finds himself regretting turning down the Mcdonalds' campaign two months ago. Maybe that would've kept his schedule busy and Nike could've turned to someone else like Reo or Karasu.

He wants to say no, but this was one of Blue Lock's biggest donors. Saying no would result in another long meeting with Ego and the rest of the company's executive board. And there's no way that he could sit through that again.

"I'll send them over by the end of the day."

The man snaps up, eyes wide, "Perfect! Pleasure doing business with you as always, Itoshi." Without saying any departures, his screen goes black.

Rin grunts and slumps down in his chair, only looking up when he hears his bedroom door creaking opening slightly, revealing your figure with a sly smile.

Ah, he can't tell if he likes the look or not.

"I'm assuming you—"

"Can I please help?!"

Rin doesn't miss the glint that flashes across your eyes. It appears that you already have something in mind and he needs to send over the photos by this afternoon so does he even have a say? It wasn't like Rin knows how to take gaudy photos anyway.

He fakes being in deep thought briefly with a finger to his lips, enjoying the sight of your bubbling excitement, before agreeing, "Where should we start?"

You strut over to his laptop and eye the mock-up photos that his sponsor had sent over. Rin closely watches your facial expressions change as you seem to take this newfound role with increasing responsibility and seriousness. Of all the time spent together within the past year, he's never seen you this passionate over something silly in his opinion.

"Do you have their product on hand?" Your question snaps him from his thoughts and he nods, pointing towards the guest room closet.

"They sent over three separate pairs last week. I didn't bother trying them on."

A gasp escapes from your lips follow quickly by a pout, "I could've seen you in them?!”

“We’ve only started being intimate a few days ago, honey.” He said matter of factly.

“Still…” Your voice trails off with a playful eye roll before you clap your hands together in movement of an idea.

Rin straightens up from his seat at the action, unsure of what to expect within the next couple of minutes. He hears you mumble something under your breath and watches you leave the room and return with what appears to be a black cloth, some rope, and a pair of handcuffs. While he knows that you usually receive free sex toys from your collaborations, he can’t help but question whether you’ve used them or not. You toss the items onto the mattress and rummage through his drawers to pull out the sealed package with the branded boxers.

"It'll be quick, babe!"

Most likely not, he thinks. With the direction of where this is heading, Rin believes he'll soon revisit this morning's session.

Much to his own surprise, modeling in only his boxers was something he discovered he was effortless at. Or maybe it was your own enthusiasm and concentration behind the camera that made him feel a bit at ease. You both moved to the living room area to catch better lightning and instructed Rin to lay down on the sectional couch with a singular hand tousled through his hair. In just a span of a few minutes, you've captured over a dozen dynamic close-ups and full-body shots of your husband's figure.

"Do you do this often?" Rin speaks out.

You stand behind the camera with unwavering focus, thumb hovering over the shutter as you set up for the next shot, "Not often but only with the toys I get."

Rin flinches from the flash before pressing on, "Do you use anything of them on yourself?"

Your dexterous fingers adjust the settings and angle the device slightly right, "Never, if I'm being completely honest." A faint flush travels to the tip of your ears at the next sentence and you feel yourself hesitating, "I've only ever used my personal vibrator but that's about it. I have a mannequin in my room that I dress up in order to understand visuals whenever I'm writing."

This is new. In the short amount of time that you've guys been spending together, you believe that this is actually the first instance where Rin asks about what you do for work. And despite him going down on you this morning, you can't help but want to crawl somewhere far and away from the sudden embarrassment. You do this for a living!

A few more flashes and loud snaps go by.

"And what exactly are you currently writing?" He asks. Rin is no good at hiding his intentions, teasing leaks into it.

You freeze, feeling his watchful gaze, and choose your next words carefully, "A short novel about a husband and wife. Really corny plot to explain, I don't think you'll like it that much." You try to laugh off your sudden nerves.

Rin crosses his arms, now sitting up, "I don't mind listening."

For a long moment, you stare back at him, mouth agape, trying to scramble for an answer, "Um, it's about their awkward relationship and them trying to get comfortable with one another, if that makes sense?"

The uneasiness of your answer is something he picks up on and Rin can't help but move forward with it, "That sounds awfully familiar." He says as if it's a long-forgotten memory, placing weight on each word.

Your hands fumble with the next camera shot, "A-Ah, there are tons of books that follow a similar premise, it's nothing new!" Rin looks like he's going to add something to the topic but you interject, "Let's move to the next set! Can you put on the blindfold?"

He obeys, your shoulders relax as the conversation dissolves, and he ties the black cloth around his eyes, only allowing his dark bangs over them. You watch him fumble back into his original pose with his legs spread and arms propped up against the couch’s frame. 

Anyone within their right mind would easily agree that Rin Itoshi is attractive. If you were to show any of your penpals a photo they would probably hound you down for stealing a man like him off the market. Even when you were looking through his application over a year ago, you had a general idea of what to expect but meeting him in person blew away your expectations. Seeing him earlier was great, fantastic even, but there was something about having that blindfold on that made your breath stuck in your throat.

"How does it feel?"

"No different from me closing my eyes." Except, well it is different. He feels a lot more vulnerable with not knowing your movements, his sense of touch is heightened and, frankly, he's aroused. And of course, you catch the last part.

"I can feel you staring, you know."

"It's hard not to." You snap the photos and made a mental note to photoshop the growing appendage away. You aren’t really sure what would happen if that gets approved and you really don't want to find out. "Can you lay flat on the couch this time? Hands behind your head? Yeah, just like that - perfect."

He vaguely makes out the flashes behind the thick fabric and jolts when he suddenly feels your cold fingers tracing his lower abdomen. He stays still, wondering where and what you're planning to do next in heavy excitement. His erection jerks hard against the boxer briefs as your fingers make their journey down, hand stopping right when his seemingly wet tip throbs up into your palm.

"Stay still for me?" And he hears you laugh when he nods a bit too fast.

Rin draws a sharp breath through his teeth when you free his erection from the slits of his bottoms, his hands travel to meet yours and place them around his length. Zero words are exchanged as the next thing he feels is your warm tongue wrapping eagerly around him.

He instinctively bucks his hips towards your mouth, toes curling in the process as you start dragging your tongue up and down his arousal. It only took a few more tries before you start to feel the moment when he loses the control that he had been holding onto diligently for so long.

But what fun would that be?

You pull back from his length with an audible pop and laugh, "That's for this morning."

He wants to cry at the loss of contact but holds back. Rin tosses off the blindfold, throwing it across the room, and the moment his gaze meets yours, it's burning. "Not fair."

"It's only fair, babe." You reply back with a tease.

Your body falls softly against the cushions of the couch as your husband gets up and he picks you up easily by flinging a hand under your legs. You wrap your legs around his waist, resting just above his needy erection, and widen your eyes as he starts stepping toward the bedroom.

"What about the photoshoot?"

"Just send over what you have," He makes a low, guttural sound in response and traces his tongue along the crook of your neck, "I want to do something else right now."

He pulls you away gently by your throat, forcing you to look back at him. His eyes scan your face, looking you over and memorizing every detail before they fall to your lips, and he leans forward and kisses you.

As his tongue breaches your mouth, he sets you down on the mattress, crawling on top, and shivering when his bare cock brushes over your bottoms. You can't help the way you tremble under his hold, your entire body lighting on fire. You have an idea of where this might go but, before anything else, you reach over to your bedside drawer and pull out a series of small boxes.

He pulls away at the sound and inspects the items, "You always kept condoms there?" Rin asks.

"No," You said a bit too defensively, "I'm just an optimist and safety comes first." You toss two boxes in his hands. "Check the date on those."

He eyes them strangely and taking out a couple of colored condoms and clear ones. "Why?"

You squeeze his thigh, sitting up on the mattress this time, "The good ones expire within two to three years. I think these should be decent? Pick whichever one you want to use."

Rin blanks for a while, trying to weigh out his options. He doesn't know why but this is harder to decide compared to who he should pass to on the field. You sit back slightly against the headboard, rubbing small circles into his thigh before he finally comes to a decision and picks up a black one.

Your lips quirks up, "Ribbed for her pleasure?"

He plays with the packaging between his fingers and furrows his brows, "I don't trust the ultra-thin ones."

"It's not like they make the condoms break on purpose!"

"I know that," He blushes in embarrassment, "I just want us to be safe too."

You free yourself from your top and bottoms, letting your breasts perk up in exposure to the cold air in the bedroom. Rin doesn't wait long to get rid of his only remaining article of clothing and carefully removes the wrapper from its confinement. He fumbles with the condom for a bit, trying to find the correct way of putting it on so that it doesn't automatically slip off, and gingerly pushes your back against the mattress.

Rin takes a moment to fully absorb the sight, his heavy gaze darting across your fully naked flushed figure along the white sheets that hugs your outline beneath you. Hands rest firmly along your waist and he leans forward, a mixture of concern and lust raging in his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

Your arms wrap behind his neck, anchoring yourself below as you waited with much anticipation, "Take your time, I'm right here."

It takes Rin a few long seconds for this realization to hit, spurring him to action. He pulls back slightly, one hand steady on your waist and the other gripping his arousal as he begins to slowly enter your folds inch by inch. A heatwave goes through his system at the feeling of your tight cavern clenching around the tip of his cock, Rin bites into his lip to control himself and gently pushed forward, sliding inside of your entrance and pushing through the thin strip of resistance while you begin to cry softly by his ear.

"I’m sorry," he apologizes when he hears you emit a sharp sound of pain, "We can stop if this is too much."

You hold onto him tighter, refusing to lift your chin from his shoulder.  "It's fine," you manage to breathe out, "I'm trying to get used to you."

You moan and lower your hips, forcing him deeper inside of you, his length fully draped in your tight warmth. It's Rin's turn to wince, this time at the feeling of being fully inside. Without thinking about it and unable to control his body’s response, he begins to thrust his hips up towards yours slowly, still holding onto you firmly as you widen your legs under him.

"You're so tight." Rin rasps out, your nails digging deeper into his shoulders.

You fight back the tears and whimper, "It feels good, don't stop."

"I know," he coos, unable to keep from responding in the heat of the moment.

What started as slow, tepid lovemaking soon became rough and swift. Your muffled moans soon grow into loud, uncontrollable whines as you cry out your passion into the room. Rin screws his eyes shut and lets his concentration break, his mind fully focused on the feeling of you under and tight around him as he works his length as deep inside of you. All he can think about is how good you feel and how long he wanted this, and now finally being with you like this - so close and so unveiled - it's more than he can handle, more than he can believe.

Rin knows that he's moments away from falling apart completely.  Feeling the cord tighten in his stomach,  he leans forward to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking it gently while he brought his fingertips to your sensitive nub and begins to circle around the area until your mewling grows further into a frenzy.

 "Fuck," You begin to cry into his shoulders, fingers tearing at his hair, "It feels too good, baby."

Rin is too far gone at that point, and he realizes too late that his climax is bursting out of him, his cock leaking heavily into the wrapper. You're soon behind him, biting into his shoulder as your own orgasm hit, and the feeling of your walls gripping and clenching him only prolongs his own release and it leaves him feeling intoxicated and dazed.

He pulls his hand away from where it sat between you both, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, both your breathing laborious and loud. Rin tries to process the reality of what had just transpired, but he knows that he would never truly understand why he's lucky enough to be with you in this way.

"As cheesy as this sounds," You rake your fingers through his damp locks and giggle at his exhausted state, "I'm glad we waited to do this."

"I'm sorry that we didn't do this sooner," Rin replies quietly, nudging his face closer to your chest, "you did great."

"You made it great for me."

Your bodies breathe in rough synchronization and you leave the clean-up process to become tomorrow's worries.

Waking up to the sight of you drooling on him has quickly become one of his favorite things to look forward to. Rin doesn't even hide his intentions as he reaches for his phone and snaps a picture of you. The sound and flash from the device wake you and you soon take note of the wet mess that you had laid on his chest from the night before.

You let out a yelp, using the blankets to immediately wipe off any trace of saliva, "Delete that right now!"

Rin quickly saves it as his new phone background and shakes his head, "That's not on my to-do list today." Not like he has a to-do list, but he enjoys seeing this flustered side of you outside of the bedroom playground.

You pout, "Who knew you could be so mean?"

"My parents left that part out of my application for obvious reasons."

Before you could say anything more, Rin's phone buzzes in his hands, and his brother's ID flashes across the screen. This could mean one or two things, he's wishing him a happy birthday or his whole family is coming to visit. Considering that it's not even September yet, you can only assume the latter.

Rin scrambles to put on a pair of boxers and hops out of bed to take the call, "Be right back."

It had been almost three months since your in-laws last visited your home. With his older brother living abroad in Spain and his parents spending their retirement funds on travels, it was hard to find a good quiet week for everyone to fly over. But, when they do visit, it's always an impromptu visit on their end that leaves you scrambling around the house last minute. Rin knows how stressed that leaves you so when he gets off the phone with Sae, he immediately lets you know about the upcoming visit within the next three days. While most people may think three days is still short notice, at least that's better than waking up at 4 in the morning with everyone by the front door.

"How long do you think they're gonna stay for?" You step out of the shower in your bathrobe and eye the wall clock.

"Only two days, it'll be brief. My mother just wants to drop some stuff off and have dinner." He says while making the bed.

You hum in deep thought, "We can spend the rest of today grocery shopping when you get back from work if you want."

"I would like that."

Rin helps you clean the place for the first two days and then on the final day he spends all his time in the kitchen. He reassures that he'll handle the cooking since everyone in his family are picky eaters, especially his older brother.

"You sure you don't need help, babe?" You try and peer over his shoulders but his tall frame made it nearly impossible. Rin notices and takes a step aside for you to look.

He's wearing one of your pink, frilly aprons while chopping up various greens on the cutting board. On the stove he has three separate pots, one pot was nearly filled to the brim with bone broth and tender meat, the other was a smaller pot with already boiled vermicelli noodles, and the last pot is just a placeholder for raw vegetables.

"I've got it covered," He says with focus and tosses the last bit of cilantro into the third pot. "Is everything else ready for tonight?"

"Mhm," You lean against his side, engulfing your nose with the intense aroma from the meat, "The smell alone is riling me up." You said half-jokingly.

His eyes glimmer and immediately pauses his actions, "Maybe we could sneak one in before they arrive?"

You lightly pinch his shoulder and laugh, "Are you a sex addict now or something?"

"No," He sets down the knife and turns off the stove, face leaning into yours as he cages you in between his arms and the kitchen counter. "Maybe just a you addict."

You pinch his shoulder again, a little too roughly, and Rin winces. His lips ghost over yours and, with a simple touch, you latch your arms around his neck and press your lips together. It's firm, rough, and almost desperate. Rin's hand drifts up the back of your shirt, easily snapping the back of your bra band off, and soon gets a hold of one of your exposed breasts. You melt into his touch, whining when his fingers brush over a nub.

You reluctantly pull back when you smell the intense fragrance again, a faint string of saliva stretching and breaking in between you two, "What time are they coming over?"

He glances at the clock on the wall, "About an hour."

You snap your head towards the unfinished dining room table and curse under your breath, "I forgot to set up the plates and runner."

Rin caresses your cheeks, forcing you to readjust your attention back to him. "It'll be quick, don't worry." He ushers, placing your hands against his aching clothed length.

It’s almost like a trend with you two now. Finding odd moments to become intimate during a time crunch. "Fine," You press against his warmth and offer him a sultry smile, "but you're on cleaning duty."

"Fair enough deal." He groans at you, running his fingers across the now damp fabric of your panties.

Lifting a hand, you trace the outline of his face with your fingertip, admiring the sharp angular features and how his long lashes rest under his eyes as he breathed quietly. Your eyes fall on the firm definition of his biceps where they peeked from the black form-fitting t-shirt he always likes to wear around you.

Rin's eyes were glowing in that specific cloudy gaze again before he bashfully asks, "Can I go down on you?"

You shudder when his fingers press down on your clothed clit, "It's hard to say no when it's you, Rin."

He tugs at your waistband, easily slipping off the article of clothing to the ground, and watches you with greed in his eyes as you slither out of your soiled underwear. His hands grip firmly against your ass, lifting and placing you down gently on the counter, away from his carefully crafted meal prep. You shiver against the cold marble countertop and watch with anticipation as he slowly bends down to level his face between your wet heat.

He has already memorized and claimed your scent as his own; it’s a fierce and sweet concoction of hormones and needs that only his words and touch could elicit in you. As your aroma encircled him, Rin couldn't help but grow more and more thirsty. His fingers rest firmly on your folds, spreading you apart.

"Rin," You find yourself panting out his name, hands immediately tugging at his dark locks.

He nuzzles his face right into the wet slick, burying himself in your addicting warmth, "Be good for me, okay?"

Despite the rush of getting everything set up, Rin takes his time. His tongue makes its laps against your folds and he feels your trembling body as you buck against the countertop. You let out another moan, this time contained in your throat but still loud and sweet enough for him to hear, and the sound of it makes his length ache in return.

He tries to ignore the throbbing pain and focuses on your pleasure. His tongue dances in the forms of long, short, and fast strokes against your flesh, stopping only when he reaches your clit. Every time he stopped, your body tensed above him, and it made him smile knowing that he could get you like this. Rin hates to admit it but he loves to tease you as much as he loves to leave you awash with pleasure. As he continues to ravage from below, you begin to whine incoherently and lean back further until your back is flush against the cold countertop.

"Rin, please—" The knot growing in your stomach makes your hands ball up into fists in his hair, knuckles turning white from the immense pleasure.

He can't see your face but, judging from the cadence in how you called out his name, he knows that you're close. Seeing you behaving desperate and anxious only makes him love you ten times more than he had moments ago. Giving your thighs a light spank, his lips latch onto your clit, and rolls his tongue in circles.

He feels the vibrations of your moans echoing throughout your messy figure but he wants to finish you off in a way that'll turn you into putty in his hands. He sucks on your sensitive nerve one last time before pulling away, standing up, and using the back of his hand to wipe away the honey-coated slick that's across his face.

Before you get a chance to cry out in frustration, Rin seizes you by your waist and pulls your body forward so that your feet touch the floor. He meets with your flushed expression as you quietly gasp for air and pulls out a wrapper he had in his pockets.

"Can we?" He says it so tenderly.

"God," You can't help but laugh weakly at the sight, legs trembling from the built-up pressure, "You get cleaning duty and owe me brunch tomorrow."

He hums in agreement as he slips out of his sweats, erection raging red and getting fully wrapped around by the condom, "Consider that a date."

"Just don't take too long because we still—"

Bringing one hand up towards your cheek, he pulls you into a swift kiss that quickly silences you. Your words soon deteriorate into a muffled series of moans into his mouth as he gravitates his palm under your right thigh, lifting and spreading it just enough that he slips his length inside in one smooth glide.

"You fit so perfectly around me." He breathes between your ragged lips before lowering your leg, his thumbs taking place onto your hips.

Rin starts off his thrusts at a swift pace, not too rough but still reaching your deepest spots that had you clenching your eyes shut and tipping your head back. He winces at the tightness and warmth of your sex, suppressing back the moan that rose into a bubble in his throat but it's nearly impossible with how electrifying everything feels.

"Don't look away."

Your eyes flutter open and tilt your head forward, finding his smoldering gaze. Rin stares back, studying the way your lips part as you call his name and the way that your brows furrow in pleasure.

"That's it." He pumps a snap thrust into you, causing your hands to fly directly around his neck, holding onto him tight. "You're such a good girl."

The sound of his voice has always been able to produce flutterings in your heart, but hearing him talk to you like this, speaking words like that, is enough to sharpen the ache and send the deluge of your insides rushing forth like a dam has been breached.

The sounds coming out of you right now are inconvincible. Your sentences and his name starts sounding like a new language but he can't bother to listen to your nonsense chatter right now. Not while he's focusing so hard on the magnificent feel of your warmth that was melting him where he stood, his concentration on heightening your ecstasy until you break under his touch. He brings his hips as close to yours as he can, each stroke smooth and just deep enough to hit your spot every time he falls back into you. You shut your eyes again, dropping your forehead to his chin, and Rin grunts, letting himself drown in the overwhelming bliss of being inside of you.

"Tell me how it feels." He moans against your sweat-covered collarbones.

You launch yourself closer, now chest to chest with your husband, "It's so good—you take care of me so well!"

Another sharp thrust causes your walls to spasm crazy against his arousal, he nips at your neck in response, "I know I do."

He’d built you up so high earlier that it doesn't take long for you to fall apart. Your walls continue to tighten around him and your nails scrape lines into his shoulder blades. You're crying his name again, the sound bright and muffled against his neck, but Rin focuses on the feel of you losing yourself on his cock. You begin to lean against him, your body going slack and limbless.

Feeling a burning hot pressure grows inside his own core as he devours your sounds and drives into you with a few final deep pumps, unable to stop himself when he spills hot against the wrapper inside of you.

Rin is trembling as he finishes, and you're still vicing him in a death grip with the searing wet heat of your sex. Your sounds have mostly quieted now, minus the weak giggling, leaning completely limp against him. Your arms are still looped around his shoulders and the sweat from your brow trails his clavicle where your head had come to rest.

"How long do we have?" You finally breathe, brain still intoxicated by the rush of pleasure.

"15 minutes." He sighs and pulls outs, soon realizing the mess that you both had made all over his groin and legs.

A groan mumbles through your lips, "Think we have enough time to squeeze in a shower?"

Rin places a chaste kiss on your wet cheeks, "Not a chance."

It's a miracle how efficiently you two work under pressure. It's also no surprise that Rin is fast at almost everything he does. Whether it be running from one end of the field to the other or rushing to have the meals all perfectly set up by the dining table as your in-laws were just arriving through the door. You mentally thank him for giving you just enough time to fix your 'post-sex' crazed hair and take care of 'her' business.

By the time you arrive at the dining table, practically everything and everyone had already been seated and served. You shyly say your brief greetings before taking a seat next to Rin, "How was the flight over?"

Sae, who sat across from you, doesn't try to hide the disdain in his voice, "Still jetlagged and tired, if I'm being honest."

Rin picks up his noodles and sends his brother a questioning look, "You literally flew in first class." He jabs.

The older male fakes a yawn, "And? There's still a seven-hour time difference."

Your mother-in-law quickly interjects the growing tension, "It wasn't too bad, we had a layover in Shanghai which was nice, and we even brought gifts!" She reaches underneath the table, pulling out several luxury branded boxes and a lone black plastic bag that was stuffed to the brim with white fabric.

"That one is mine." Sae lamely points at the black bag which earns a huff from your husband. Of all the few times you've met his brother, you don't know if he's genuinely bad at giving out gifts or just did it on purpose to tick off Rin. "Wear it in private." He adds casually in a whisper.

"So," Your mother-in-law's voice chimes in an all too familiar tone at the dinner table, her chopsticks clinking against the noodles in the bowl as her eyes dart between the two of you on the other side. Her husband shifts awkwardly in the seat next to her and Sae mindlessly chews, though his head perks at the incoming conversation. "When are you guys expecting kids?"

You nearly spit out your meal in response, still not used to her directness, "Oh, umm..." Your eyes wander to Rin in hopes of a reasonable reply.

In the past, Rin would be quick to give an answer that fell more along the lines of "We're still getting to know each other" or "We're both busy to focus on that right now". Normally you wouldn't say anything in return and merely silently agree just because he was right. Plus, you never did feel comfortable admitting to his parents that you did indeed want to sleep with their son, maybe not pop out a baby anytime soon, but definitely slipping under the sheets.

You were half expecting Rin to spout out a similar retort this time around but, while looking over at his face, Rin shoots his parents a faint smile and squeezes your hand. This earned a loud gasp from everyone at the table, including yourself.

"Give us maybe two years?"

A time frame? An actual time frame? Everyone is thinking the same thing.

"Oh, my heavens..." His mom places a hand to her mouth and tears start pooling at the corners of her eyes. His dad immediately fetches her a napkin and holds her shaking figure in his arms, chanting that their dreams of having grandkids are now achievable.

Sae lets out an empty huff before giving a small congratulatory clap, "Guess you guys finally did something about that."

"About what?" You and Rin ask in unison.

Sae motions his hands in your direction, expression deadpan, "Sex." He says it loud enough for you to hear but thankfully your in-laws are too occupied crying tears of joy to realize what was said.

Rin glares at his brother and a loud thump was heard. You think your husband just kicked Sae underneath the table but Sae's face stayed unwavering. Or maybe he was trying to hold back his pained expression? You can’t read him that well.

"Quiet." Rin seethes but Sae only shrugs and tosses the black bag across the table.

"Open it up." Sae says a bit too eagerly.

Rin rips into the bag, and he groans when he pulls out two sweaters, the soft fabric spilling over his lap. He groans even more when he lifts one up, unfolding it and holding it at arm’s length. It’s a white baggy, comfortable-looking sweater. There’s black writing across the chest, the words ‘she's just my roommate’ plastered over the front in a Disney-styled font, with an arrow pointing to the right.

"The other one is for Y/N."

The second sweater is identical to the first in color and design, except this one has the words ‘I'm more than that’ with arrows pointing down.

Well, that's certainly embarrassing. You don't even bother questioning where he even ordered it from.

Rin lets the sweater fall onto his lap, "This is going to be our new dish rag. I'm not wearing this."

"Of course you will," Sae takes a sip from his glass and flicks over a rare smirk, "You're going to toss out your big brother's gift?"

"It is comfortable." You point out and Rin groans again when he sees you pulling the sweater over your head. Hair tousled from putting it on and the baggy look does look incredibly cute on you but still...

Sae clears his throat, "I get first dibs on naming the kid, by the way."

Rin rolls his eyes, "And what's the name?"

"Sae Jr."

Another loud thump and you could've sworn a tear rolled down his cheek.

It's Autumn by the time you finish your beloved passion project. You've spent the last few weeks hulled in your room after the family dinner, rapidly typing away on your keyboard for what seems to be hours that Rin legitimately thought he had to buy you a new one. You claimed that you finally knew how to piece the rest of the story together and you couldn't let the idea sit around. He respected your decision but still checked in every now and then to drop off takeout meals and water break reminders.

Once finished with the finalized novel, your penpals were the first ones to gain early access to it on your Patreon site. A quick video call from them in the middle of the night was all the confirmation you need to know that all the "pain" and "suffering" was worth it.

"See? This is why you're number one!" Bachira pops open a bottle of champagne while wearing a cheapy-made party hat.

Chigiri raises his own glass to toast, "How many physical copies are you printing out?"

"I think 500? I have to double-check with my manufacturer for the numbers. But that also means 500 books to sign and I am not looking forward to that."

Your friends roar over the speakers at the fact, downing another glass of alcohol.

Unaware of how noisy the sounds were coming from your phone, you failed to recognize Rin shifting around in his sleep. He wakes up with a low moan. You thought he was going to yell at you but only pulls you closer to his bare chest, his hand soon finding a place to rest on your stomach and eyes flutter open against your skin.

"Who are you talking to?" His raspy voice catches your friends' attention.

"Oh my god," Hiori tries to look closer into your video, "is that your husband?"

Shidou's screen flashes white for a second and grins, "He's hella sculpted."

"Wait, did you just take a screenshot?" Your eyes widen and quickly turn off the video before they could see Rin's face.

"Wait, we wanna see the hubby!"

Your friends begin to whine but your fingers hover over the red button, "Okay bye, thanks for all the love but I have to walk my fish tomorrow morning!" When the call drops, you turn to look at your half-asleep husband, whispering an apology.

He gently pinches your stomach and hums in contentment, "It's fine, but you have to wake up early tomorrow, right?"

"I do," You release a long sigh and press your back deeper into his chest. "But I'm proud of how everything turned out."

"I'm sure it'll be one of your best sellers." Rin hums against your spine, causing you to giggle in reaction.

"Yeah," You reply quietly. "I mean, I hope it does well. I literally wrote a book about us."

He hugs you tighter, looking at you with a faraway look in his eyes, "Life imitates art, I guess."

You feel like you're going to burst with a rush of emotions. With all things considered, you both had come pretty far. "Hey, Rin?"

His lips brush against your shoulders, "Yeah?"

In a barely audible voice, you whisper, "I love you."

The words hang in the air for a split moment. With half-lidded eyes laced with drowsiness, Rin blinks slowly, the corners of his lips twisting into a serene smile.

He leans close to plant a longing kiss on your forehead before rejoining without hesitation, "I love you too."

[ I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK ]

Hana Kay has dedicated her entire career to writing erotica professionally. Everything in her life was going all according to plan when she finally hits a million followers and gets a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get featured on Today's Morning Show. Nothing stands in her way, not even the jarring fact that she's a virgin and that she's too afraid to even touch her own husband. But when Hana has a face-to-face meeting with her seething editor and a fight with writer's block, she has no choice but to face her fears.

YN Finalis resides in the Tokyo Metropolitan area with her husband, who is the sole inspiration for this story. She considers herself a self-proclaimed "guilty pleasure" writer who loves to create uncanny stories for her readers. Please send all messages to the following email below and for physical fan mail please address to the PO Box right after. She strongly requests that her fans send in owl plushies and any merch featuring her favorite football player Rin Itoshi!

Make sure to grab YN Finalis' signed limited edition hardcover novel at your local bookstore or you can order online on her website for just 19.99 USD / 2865 ¥!

Thank you and happy reading!

a/n: WOAH sorry that took longer than expected i didn't expect life to hit that hard so soon! ty again everyone for the love and support for this series!!! this is my first time really writing anything smut related so I'm glad it didn't turn out to be doodoo. let me know who you wanna see in my next long fic series!!! I'll put out a poll soon hehe

TAGLIST

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[mountain-maiden]

Working Hard (Hardly Working)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

WC: 4k

Summary: Joel helps you out at the gym and you thank him in the locker room ;)

Content: 18+ MDNI, slightly unhealthy relationship with food (blink and you’ll miss it), oral f!receiving, Joel Miller is a munch, unprotected piv, cream pie, reader is able to lift weights & incline walk, Joel is able to lift reader.

a/n: I wrote this instead of going to the gym :/ If you hate it please don't tell me 😘

You push open the doors to the gym, the familiar smell of metal and sweat invading your lungs as you step inside. You don’t necessarily enjoy working out, but you do enjoy sweet treats, and that makes working out a necessity. So, a few weeks ago, you begrudgingly got yourself a membership the gym closest to where you live, which happened to be Rock Hard Fitness. Unsurprisingly, it was an extremely male dominated environment.

After swiping your key card, you drop your stuff in the locker room and head to the dreaded cardio floor. You mildly dislike working out, but you absolutely hate cardio, and unfortunately for you, the weight floor is packed full of gym bros and meatheads who are not pleased to share their space with beginners who aren’t “on their level.” Despite the unwelcoming atmosphere, you can’t stand another day of incline walking; today you're going to lift weights or die trying.

From the cardio deck, you watch the people lifting, taking stock of the machines being used least and trying to pick out any attractive guys you can distract yourself with during your warmup. You really don’t enjoy the typical gym bro look, which means your efforts are most often for naught, but today someone different catches your eye. He’s definitely older than the average guy in the gym, broad shoulders, meaty thighs—you're basically drooling while watching him. Is it wrong to objectify people in the gym? Absolutely. Does that stop you from thirsting over the mystery gym dilf? Absolutely not.

After deeming yourself officially warmed up, you leave the safety of the cardio deck, jumping straight into the shark tank. Immediately, the booming bass of the speakers is leaking through your headphones, no longer allowing you to enjoy Kesha and Britney in peace. Great. You just take the headphones off, leaving them in your locker with the rest of your stuff before spying the gym equivalent of a unicorn: a squat rack, completely open.

You make a beeline for the rack and immediately set your sweatshirt and water bottle on the ground beside it, staking your claim. Not having to fight for a place to lift takes away half the battle of the weight deck; you breathe a sigh of relief as you survey the rest of the floor.

Now your only problem is that it’s been months since you last lifted, and you have absolutely no idea what weight to start with. You know you've lost strength, but surely you’re still able to lift your warm-up weight, right? The weights are added, and you line yourself up, taking a couple of breaths to steady yourself before standing up, moving the bar from the rack to your shoulders. Immediately, the weight is not what you remembered it being—much heavier, in fact—but you’re not about to immediately rerack and take weight off; that would be humiliating.

So, you steady yourself and dip down, enjoying the familiar strain of your muscles. After the first rep, you’re feeling alright, you can definitely handle this weight, you’ll just do less repetitions. You continue, reveling in the burn of your legs as you struggle to push yourself back up as you complete the first set. You’ve done the 6 reps you decided on, but you’re feeling good and you’re pretty confident you can do another so you go back down, determined to complete a seventh and immediately you can tell it’s a mistake. 

You get stuck halfway back up, no matter how hard you strain, the weight won’t budge. You’ve never had to bail before, always having a spotter, you realize you don’t even know how to safely drop the weight. This is it, you’re going to humiliate yourself your first day in this gym and you’ll never be able to show your face again. Your legs are shaking, you’re panting with the effort to hold yourself up when your saving grace arrives. 

You hear the low drawl of a southern accent and suddenly the weight has been halved, allowing you to stand up and rerack the weight. You turn around to thank your savior and are struck speechless when you find yourself face to face with mystery gym dilf. 

“You alright there?” He asks, eyebrows scrunched with concern. 

“Yeah, uh, yes, thank you, “ you answer breathlessly. 

“S’really no trouble, can’t believe nobody helped you sooner,” He huffs, clearly offended on your behalf. Your face heats as you realize this means he saw how long you were stuck for. 

“Well, everyone’s wrapped up in themselves, I guess that’s half the point of coming here,” you shrug, unbothered by your fellow gym goer’s lack of concern for your wellbeing. 

“Gym bros,” you sigh in unison, and immediately burst into laughter. 

“Can’t stand gym folk, but I stopped workin’ construction and now I actually gotta workout,” He explains, as if he needs to prove he isn’t one of the aforementioned gym bros.

“Me too,” you sigh, and burst into laughter at the skeptical look he gives you.

“No, I’m a barista, I just make myself too many drinks to not be working out,” you laugh and watch as his expression shifts to one of amusement. 

“You’ve got jokes,” he chuckles, “I was wonderin’ what someone as pretty as you was doin’ workin’ construction.”

Your face heats at his compliment, “What? Your construction crew isn’t full of beautiful women?”

“Trust me darlin’, if you were on my crew I wouldn’t ‘a switched to management.” He leans up against the rack, watching you closely for your reaction to his bold comment. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were coming on to me,” you smirk, watching the tips of his ears go pink despite him initiating the flirting. 

“Is that okay?” He asks, boldness suddenly replaced with a self conscious demeanor, “I wasn’t aimin’ to make ya uncomfortable.”

“That is more than okay,” you try to remember his name and realize he never gave it. 

“Joel,” He sticks his hand out and you hold back a small laugh at the formality. 

You give him your name and when he repeats it, testing the word in his mouth, you don’t think it’s ever sounded better. 

“Well, I was just wrappin’ up,” He scratches the back of his head, as if he is unsure how to proceed now that you’ve actually introduced eachother. 

“If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind spotting me?” You ask, searching his face for any sign of displeasure, “I mean, I think we both know I could use one.”

He laughs at that. “Not any trouble at all, darlin’.”

Your breath hitches at the nickname. You’d never been one for petnames but the way it sounds coming from his mouth, his low southern drawl, the slight gravel of his voice, it has you fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. You look up after realizing you’d been silent just a little to long and spot the amused glint in his eyes. 

“Alright, 2nd times the charm I guess,” you say before positioning yourself beneath the bar again, this time with the security of Joel’s warmth behind your back. 

You lift the bar off the rack and hinge down, enjoying the familiar burn of pushing back up, it’s on about your third rep that you begin to struggle, taking slightly longer to straighten out. It’s at this point when Joel steps a little closer, not touching the bar but readying himself to step in. 

“Atta girl,” Joel encourages as you push yourself up, the praise sending a jolt of heat to your core. 

You need to lock in, you can’t get distracted because an attractive older man is giving you the praise your father never did. But, when you complete your next rep and he murmurs more encouragement, you swear he has to be fucking with you. There is no way he isn’t aware of the effect his words are having on you. 

You do your second to last rep and he leans forward slightly, “Such a good girl.”

You damn near drop the weight, and when you complete the set and rerack the bar, you whip around and are met with Joel’s smirking face. He definitely knew what he was doing, and your look of annoyance seemed to only further his amusement. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” His eyes widen as he feigns innocence. Fine, two can play that game. 

“My form feels a little off, can you tell me if it looks alright?” Before he gets a chance to respond you’re already dropped down in a body weight squat, just close enough that your ass brushes the front of his shorts. You know if he didn’t want this he’d take a step back, but to your surprise he stays right where he is and you can feel the bulge in his shorts growing with each rep. 

“Form looks alright to me, darlin’,” Joel rolls his eyes at your antics, “You grind on any man who spots you?”

“Just the ones I like,” you throw back before turning around, watching the spark of amusement in his eyes give way to darkening pupils. 

“You want a hand with that?” You gesture to the growing outline of his cock against the confines of his shorts, “or a mouth?”

“I wouldn’t object,” Joel smirks, taking your hand and practically dragging you to the locker room. 

You find an empty changing stall and you are immediately tearing at Joel’s clothes trying to remove the layers keeping you from the broad shoulders and thick thighs you knew he was hiding. Eventually you remember the reason you came in here and drop to your knees, pawing at his boxers. 

“Fuck darlin’, ya gotta let me taste you,” Joel lifts you from your knees and sets you on the bench with the ease of someone moving a misbehaved kitten. He drops to his knees and that’s when you register what he means. 

You freeze, shock apparent in your features because Joel stops pulling down your shorts to look at you, “Are you comfortable with this?” He asks, searching your features for an answer, “If you want to be done just say the word darlin’, no hard feelings.”

“No! Trust me I am more than comfortable with this,” you jump to reassure, “I’ve just never met a guy that actually wants to give me head.”

He scoffs before continuing his efforts to get your tight gym shorts off, “Idiots.”

You almost laugh at how immediately he’d resumed his work once he’d been given the go ahead. He groans when he sees the wet spot on your panties, a plain cotton thong, and before you have time to feel embarrassed he’s ripped them down your legs and is devouring you with a vigour you’ve never experienced. 

Joel eats pussy like he’s starved, lapping at your slick like its the best thing he’s ever tasted, and if you asked him, he’d say it was. You thread your fingers through his hair and he groans when you pull. 

“Tell me what you like,” He murmurs, parting with your pussy for the few precious seconds it takes to get the words out. 

“What?” Your face scrunches with confusion and pleasure as his lips create suction against your clit. 

“When I do something you like, tell me. When I do something you don’t like, tell me.” He directs before returning to his mouth to your pussy, swiping small circles around your clit with his tongue. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan with complete disregard for the extremely thin door separating you from a heavily populated public space. 

He switches from languid movements against your clit to lapping along your slit, never fully breeching the entrance, teasing you realize. 

“Don’t tease,” you manage to get out, a tug of his hair accompanying your directive as you attempt to signal his efforts should return to your clit. 

“Is there something you want?” He looks up, a smug smile painting his face. Of course he was on his knees and you were still going to be the one begging. 

“What you were doing before,” you really don’t want to explicitly state what you want.

“You can grind on me in a public gym but you can’t tell me how you want your pussy eaten?” Joel chuckles, blatantly amused at your sudden prudeness.

“Stop being an asshole, you know what I want,” you know getting annoyed with the only man who’s been eager to give you head for wanting you to tell him how to do it best is completely unreasonable, but you also know he is purposefully being difficult. 

“Here, I’ll even tell you what to say,” a mischevious glint appears in his eyes, “‘Joel, please lick my clit’, that’s all you gotta say darlin’”.

Your eyes widen at the crude language and he chuckles at your shocked expression, as if you weren’t already getting eaten out in the locker room of a public gym. You figure a few crass words couldn’t dig you into any deeper trouble. 

You take a deep breathe and meet Joel’s eyes, irises taken over by the black abyss of his pupils. “Joel, please lick my clit.”

He supresses a shudder and you see his left hand reach down to palm his cock through his shorts before he smiles, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

He dives in, and immediately his tongue is working over your clit, drawing figure eights and circles, never letting the pattern become predictable, never letting you get used to the stimulation.

You moan as his tongue works its magic, and his hands reach up and grasp your breasts, squeezing and massaging. Eventually, he slides a finger along your slit, and without warning, plunges it into you. You groan at the intrusion and buck against his mouth. He doesn’t stop licking, instead sliding his free hand down to try to relieve some pressure from his cock, palming himself desperately through his shorts to your whimpers and moans.

It isn't long before you feel the knot in your stomach start to build, and your breath starts to catch in your throat. 

"Oh fuck, Joel I'm gonna cum," You warn him, 

Joel groans into your pussy as he continues to lick and suck at your juices, speeding up his actions.

You're moaning and gasping, and suddenly your orgasm hits you. You buck against Joel's face and cry out. He moans at the feeling of you clenching around his fingers as he works you through your high, lapping more gently at your clit as you shudder through the waves of pleasure.

"Wow," you heave once you are able to catch you’re breath.

"Good?"

"Fucking great."

You lay there catching your breath, a satisfied smile still plastered on your face. You reach down and unzip Joel's shorts, pulling his cock free. It's hard and throbbing, almost painfully so, a testament to your performance and his excitement. You wrap your hand around it, marveling at the warmth and hardness of it.

“Darlin, we don’t have to,” Joel starts to protest before you shoot him a look that shuts him up.

“Joel Miller if you aren’t fucking me in the next 30 seconds I’ll have no choice but to report you for causing undue distress.”

He chuckles as you tug him forward by his shirt, “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m on the pill, and clean, so uh,” you know you really shouldn’t be making this offer.

“I’m clean too,” He replies, eyes fixed on your face. 

“I’m okay not using a condom if you are,” you can feel your face heat at how terrible of an idea you know it is, and how bad you want it despite that knowledge.

“Fuck darlin’, I’m not gonna complain,” He groans, shivering as you begin to lightly stroke him.

Joel moves between your spread legs and your heart races as he lines himself up. You can feel the warmth of his cock against your entrance, slick with desire and Joel’s spit.

"Are you sure about this?" his voice is low and husky, and he laughs a little at your eager nod. Before you can make a snarky comment you’re gasping as he fills you, your walls stretching around him, accommodating his girth.

“Fuuuck,” you moan, concerned he might actually be splitting you in half. You’ve definitely never taken anyone this big before but you’d be damned if gave Joel the ego boost of knowing that.

“Takin’ it so well for me sweetheart,” he murmurs into your ear, holding still as you adjust to his size. 

“Joel, move please,” you mean for it to be a demand but the breathy whine it comes out as has Joel chuckling as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

He moves slowly at first, each thrust drawing a low moan from you. You paw at his shirt, suddenly deeming the extra layer an offense of the highest order. He chuckles and pulls the shirt off, giving you access to lick and suck across the expanse of his broad chest.

You kiss his chest, your lips leaving a wet trail to his nipple, which you roll between your teeth causing him to shudder. He picks up his pace, his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him tighter. You wrap your legs around his hips, feeling his cock stretch you even more as he drives into you.

"Joel, fuck," you moan, your voice barely a whisper.

"You enjoyin’ yourself, sweetheart?" he asks between thrusts, his eyes locked on yours, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Before you can come up with a snarky response, he’s found a new angle that’s sending sparks through your body with every thrust. The only response you can manage is a strangled moan.

“Aw, are you a little cock dumb, darlin?” He asks with mock empathy, “Can’t even answer a yes or no question,” He scoffs, but the tender look in his eyes lets you know he’s not being serious.

Serious or not, you can’t understand how he still has the mental bandwidth to be teasing you.

He moves faster now, pounding into you, the sounds of your wetness filling the locker room. Your clit makes contact with coarse hairs above his cock, sending your hurtling towards your climax.

"Fuck, I’m close," you whisper, feeling the familiar growing tension in your core.

“Atta girl, are you gonna come for me sweetheart?” He coos, his gentle tone a complete contrast to his harsh thrusts.

“Joel, please,” you don’t even know what you’re begging for and before you can figure it out, you feel a wave of warmth crash over you as you orgasm, your body trembling as you buck and writhe underneath him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay sweet girl,” Joel holds you firm against the bench as you attempt to squirm away from the now overstimulating thrusts as he continues to fuck you.

Joel's pace quickens, his hips slapping against your skin with each deep thrust. With one hand on your hip, he uses the other to reach down and rub your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire being. Your muscles clench around his cock as his own release nears.

"I’m gettin’ close," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Where do you want it, sweetheart?”

You're breathless, sweat dripping down your skin as Joel thrusts into you, his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through you.

"Inside," you gasp, your eyes locked on his as he comes closer to the edge.

Joel adjusts his grip and with a few powerful thrusts, he slams deep inside of you, and you feel the explosion of his release like a firework going off, the sensation making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Joel," you cry out, your own climax crashing over you again, making your limbs shake uncontrollably and your nails dig into his shoulders.

Eyes closed, he leans his forehead against yours as he continues to hold himself inside you, his cock twitching from his spent orgasm. When he pulls away you collapse into a boneless heap on the bench, and when he eyes your exhausted form you can tell his ego is growing every second you remain motionless. 

You know you should get dressed before the cum begins to pool on the bench, or run down your legs, but you find yourself with a lack of motivation.  You are quickly realizing your decision had not been a good one, as you now had to drive home with cum soaked panties. From Joel’s raised eyebrows he appeared to be having the same thought. 

"You alright there?" Joel's voice carries a teasing lilt as he watches you flop around the bench.

You shoot him a playful glare, pulling your shorts back on. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever enjoyed cardio.”

"I think you have to be moving for it to be cardio, darlin’,” he chuckles, a smirk playing on his lips, “and all I saw you do was lay there and take it."

“I’ll have you know it’s a lot more tiring than it sounds,” you launch his shirt at his head in mock indignation. 

He catches the balled-up t-shirt with a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “Whatever you say sweetheart.”

He pulls the shirt on before his expression shifts, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more earnest. As you pull your bra back on and glance back at him, you notice a hint of bashfulness in his eyes. 

“Wha-”

“I-”

“You first,” you decide, staring expectantly at the man in front of you who almost appears to be blushing. 

“I know this is kinda backwards,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “but, could I take ya to dinner sometime?”

You almost began to laugh at the realization his strange change in demeanor was just because he was scared to ask you out. The man could fuck you within an inch of your life in a public locker room, but asking you on a date was what made him nervous. 

You quickly stifle your laugh when you see his face drop at your reaction, “Fuck Joel, of course I  want to get dinner with you.”

His expression brightens instantly, a smile spreading across his face. “Really?” he asks, almost sounding incredulous.

“Yeah, really,” you confirm, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest at his genuine enthusiasm.

Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, quickly unlocking it. “Could I get your number?” he asks, holding the phone out to you, “if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Definitely,” you say, taking the phone and typing in your digits before handing it back to him.

“Great,” he says, grinning as he saves your contact. “I’ll text you later then?”

“I’ll be waiting,” you reply, smiling back.

With that settled, the two of you gather your belongings and walk out of the locker room together. You are pretty sure nobody else was in there while you were fucking, but you can’t help but feel that everyone in the gym knows you just fucked this man you had met maybe 30 minutes ago. You look at Joel and he seems completely at ease so you try to channel his confidence as you walk through the gym and out the front doors. You step out into the fresh air and share one last smile with the man before you walk to your respective cars, both looking forward to getting to know each other outside of the confines of Rock Hard Fitness. Really, with a name like that, what other outcome could you have expected?

[raggedytiger]

ragatha/agatha and pomni/penny human hcs!

(r)agatha:

is an english teacher!

yes she still loves horses. she used to ride them, & she loves old western movies.

owns cowboy hat and boots.

analytical and loves long & winding conversations.

has a very happy cat named sandwich.

patches her own clothes, doesn't have kids but if she did she would embroider their names into their belongings.

she still plays cello, she loves music in general, probably sings like an angel.

can't do any mathematics.

can drive, but like a lunatic. somehow has never had an accident though, so it's fine.

probably has a cute little baby blue/yellow car now, but definitely had a beat up offroader truck at some point that got put to good use. or maybe she still does, i'm not the boss.

total lesbian, a bit of a heartbreaker but not intentionally (women just keep falling for her)

goes to town/neighbourhood/community meetings. likely is/was in a knitting circle

absurd number of quilts in her home

pomni/penny:

is an accountant as we know, and cannot cook for shit as we know.

no pets she can barely take herself for walks. is more similar to a cat, but had a dog growing up. would love a collie or a dalmatian probably.

would name the dog something stupid like Thermometer Johnson.

she can drive, but nervously.

really quick thinker, like impressively, unless she's under HUGE amounts of stress. is literally always thinking at 100mph.

no sense of interior decor or personal style. all practical, kind of butch. really does kill a suit.

very much lesbian but not fully to terms with it. probably had short-lived relationships with men in which she was 'content' but didn't really care for it. seeing agatha as agatha for the first time was probably a crazy punch to her little gay heart. not to mention the cowboy gear.

autistic

watches 90s anime to wind down

listens to every single genre of music. passes a lot of time with headphones in, slowly making her way thru the entire world's discography

owns no band merch or anything though she just listens

can't sleep without a fan on, thunderstorm 12hr audio, blackout curtains, weighted blanket, water nearby

does not sleep a lot

both of them (going to call them pomni and ragatha for convenience):

didn't immediately recognise one another. i havent got an exact idea of how they reunited after getting out, but there were tears.

bonded in a very rare and unique way - they got to revel in the newfound joys of real life again. they got to eat delicious food, go on long, unobstructed walks in the real sun, be warmed by it, chew on ice cubes and shiver at the pain, listen to each other's heartbeats, listen to real music, read real books, smell soaps and flowers and sauces. they went to the supermarket together and read all the labels, and bought one of each type of fruit to try between them, and smelled all the candles, and touched all the blankets. spent a lot of time holding hands and kissing and i'm sorry to say, probably having sex, because holy shit, i'm real, you're real, we're real

now live together in ragatha's apartment, after pomni moved out of her small and confusingly-furnished flat.

both of them feel inadequate from time to time. this is resolved by a stern-but-loving talking-to.

sandwich likes pomni very much. pomni doesn't really get cats, but loves sandwich a great deal, and enjoys letting her sleep on her lap.

ragatha is very pleased to see her girls getting along.

ragatha cooks, pomni chops the veg. she often doesn't fuck it up

pomni cleans a lot as a 'thank you for letting me live here, i love you'. she's very much acts of service, ragatha is words & physical touch <3

they watch a lot of movies together. depending on how long they've been stuck, they might have culture to catch up on

ragatha wants to have a house with a garden one day. pomni starts germinating seeds from their fruit & veg like a weird science experiment. ragatha is delighted when she is presented with a baby tomato plant.

clothes are shared. ragatha's are bigger, but most of pomni's are ill-fitting anyway so it can go both ways. ragatha likes to dress pomni up in different outfits and have her do a little fashion show. pomni pretends not to savour the confidence boost.

pomni starts sleeping more

[jinnie-ret]

perfect night

poly!stray kids x idol!reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1k

requested: @whoswony

summary: in which stray kids are watching the opening show of their girlfriend's tour, sonder, and they come to realise a song is dedicated purely to them

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

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Oh how smug you felt, that a song you had written that was purely dedicated to your boys, could still be released and put onto your latest album, Sonder. Truth be told, it was masked as a song to all your 'girls' out there, about spending time with them being your most favourite thing in the world, and not needing anything else. That was how it actually made it onto the album. But you knew who you really wrote it for.

You wrote the song for Chan, who dedicated his life to protecting each of his partners and prioritising them over himself.

For Minho, who willingly let you read him like a book and get to know him because he wasn't scared of opening up to you.

For Changbin, who often indulged in late night deep conversations with you, whether they were trivial matters that you spiraled deeply into, or more serious ones that helped each of you lift the weight off of your shoulders.

For Hyunjin, whose dramatic antics yet romantic attitude always made you swoon, no matter how goofy he would suddenly become.

You wrote it for Jisung, who always managed to keep you on your toes, whether it be from him bursting into song, his sleep clinginess or his rambles about his new favourite anime that inspired him to write a song or two.

For Felix, who was your constant source of happiness, smiles radiating sunshine and reflecting his light across your shadows, forever brightening your day.

For Seungmin, your cheeky yet very emotionally intelligent partner in crime who helped you stay rational in times when all you could see was doom and gloom.

And finally for Jeongin, who always insisted his admiration for you, was levels above your own for him, because he couldn't believe that it was possible for anyone to be more adored in this world than you.

They were all you needed. And you couldn't wait to show them that, and finally be able to express that to them through the other thing you all loved - music.

-★-★-★-★-★-

Gorgeous yet eery piano notes echoed across the walls of the stadium as you made your entrance, like you were a mystical being that your fans laid their eyes upon.

"She's so hot," Jeongin sighed as he leant across the railings.

"Real," Hyunjin nodded, tongue grazing his upper lip.

"Stop perving on our girlfriend," Seungmin sighed and whacked them on the backs of their heads.

Your boyfriends were sat on an upper tier of the seating in the stadium, safely away from fans and any possible suspicions to why they were there. Luckily, if that case was ever made, fans would be sure to defend you, knowing that you and Jeongin were friends at SOPA.

If only they knew that the two of you were way more than friends. As well as his seven other band members.

Suddenly a new track they hadn't heard started playing, some calming guitar sounding out before a drum track starting kicking in and their girlfriend's poppy voice blended perfectly with the music.

"Come and take a ride with me, I got a credit card and some good company..."

"Wait, that's about us, right?" Chan's eyes widened and a big grin appeared on his face.

"She literally said her girlies," Minho said bluntly, making Chan laugh.

"We're sort of the girlies," Han shrugged.

"Yeah Jisung you do give baby girl energy to be fair," Felix laughed.

"So does Binnie," Jisung added on, smiling as their girl performed.

The fun, light-hearted choreography made you shine with your bright energy.

"I feel so proud, wahhh," Changbin held his hand over his heart, bopping along to the music much like his other boyfriends.

"Quick, let's head backstage!" Felix pushed his other boyfriends forwards down the stairs in pure excitement as the concert came to an end.

-★-★-★-★-★-

Stretched out on the sofa in your dressing room, sipping from some water, you nearly choked on your mouthful as the door burst open with eight men pouring through.

"You were so good!"

"That song was about us right?!"

"Right?!"

You giggled as you were quite literally smothered in their love, kisses being peppered across your face, your neck, your hands, swallowed up in the arms of your boyfriends.

"Yah! What if I was getting changed?" you gasped playfully as you pushed them all away.

"I wouldn't be complaining," Hyunjin smirked before getting a neck slap from Minho.

"Hey!"

And on they went playfully fighting as Chan gave you one of his hoodies he brought with him, just for you.

"Thanks love," you smiled fondly, pulling the fluffy black hoodie over your head as Jeongin tugged you into his arms.

"You really wrote a song about us?" Felix grabbed your hands to gain your attention.

"How could you tell?" you pushed your lips together, trying not to let any words spill out straight away. You'd keep them guessing just that bit longer, that was your game.

"Credit card and some good company? You literally said that to us one time," Seungmin shrugged knowingly, with shake of his head to get the hair out of his face. He had been growing it longer recently - no objections from you.

"That could just be about my friends," you feigned ignorance.

"Nah!"

"No way!"

"Hey I have friends!" you stood up, folding your arms and detesting their claims.

"We know you do, we know love," Changbin back hugged you tightly.

"But you also have us, hmm?" Minho smirked, tickling under your chin like you were one of his cats.

"And we're way better company!" Han declared, from his spot sat on top of Jeongin as he teased the younger and cooed like you all normally did with the maknae.

"I think Jeongin would disagree," you said dryly.

"I would!" the fox boy choked out, nearly sounding suffocated with distraught as he wrestled the older boy off of him.

"But you wouldn't, would you? Don't deny it, that song was for us," Seungmin pointed out.

"Mmm, sure, whatever you want to believe," you looked down at your feet shyly, knowing there was no turning back from here. They had caught you out. But you didn't mind anymore, you were happy because they were too.

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @j-one25