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nouearth · 4 months

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the boy next door.

pairing. alan ritchson x male reader headcanon.

summary. with his profile brewing in hollywood, projects are consistently lining up for alan, and the last thing he needs is a new roommate getting in the way of his stress. unless, reader finds himself becoming alan's personal stress-ball?

content warning. camboy!au, camboy!reader, top!alan, bottom!reader, food!play (cucumber as dildo), muscle worship, size difference, spitting, oral (r!giving on dildo), dirty talk, verbal, masturbation, alan and reader are roommates.

moving in.

roommate!alan who surprises you with his massive stature when he greets you on move-in day.

it was jaw-dropping. well, almost so. you were luckily aware enough to catch the slack of your jaw from relaxing any further. any second longer, and you would've been hypnotized into submission by the man's brawn physicality; massive chest, bulging arms, and thick fingers—traits you would find yourself drooling about.

"hey, uh... (m/n), right? is that how you say your last name?" "spot on! and... alan. man, your name already sounds like a celebrity, i'm jealous." "haha, hopefully the casting directors feel the same way."

roommate!alan who helps you with your luggages without a single request from your end.

aside from being eye-candy, alan utilized his muscles for the greater good and brought your belongings from the trunk of your car, to the front of your door in a matter of minutes. even when you pleaded him not to, he went on ahead while urging you to take a rest after the long drive across the city.

you complained, though half-heartedly because your ass was sore from driving all day. his massive arms were a distraction as the veins surged through every muscle of fiber like lightning.

"you really didn't need to do all of that—" "hey, you're saving me from shelling out an extra thousand by being my roommate. plus, you seem... normal? that's the least i could do." "normal? pft, i don't know about that. but i will say, your kind gestures have put you on my 'no-kill' list." "let's backpedal a bit. is it too late to kick you out?"

roommate!alan who has already taken a liking towards you in the few hours you two have spent together to unpack.

saying that people 'stared' at alan would be underplaying what they've actually done. it was a daily occurrence to catch people gawking at his stature. whether it was with astonishment, intimidation, lust, or hostility, all eyes were on him, collective eyes and gasps piecing together how a man could look the way he does. some whispered 'steroids', others envied his dedication.

as uncomfortable as it could be at times, he liked the attention knowing he'd be the subject of one's conversation to another friend.

with you, it was no different. he'd caught you several times staring at his arms from across the room. or maybe it was his shoulders? how they perfectly filled his shirt out from seam to seam? either way, you were enchanted, especially when he'd nonchalantly flex his muscles every now and then in hopes he'd catch your eye.

and he could say the same about himself when he'd catch you bent over, ass raised high while you dug inside of your boxes to unpack the remaining decor you had brought with you.

until that moment, he never noticed how much smaller you were compared to his, the top of your head barely meeting his chin if he was to line you up. how much of a desire had awakened to have you in his arms, just to see how you perfectly fit into his body.

getting to know each other.

roommate!alan who has already learned of your habits, likes and dislikes, and hobbies within a few weeks of you moving in.

it was the small stuff that you found yourself gushing over. you two almost always had dinner together on the couch. condiments on the side for you, ketchup over his fries for him.

whether it was homemade or takeout, the best memories being made between the two of you were simply eating in front of the tv and watching alan's roles despite his reluctance.

you would cheer whenever he appeared on the screen, the camera somehow making him seem smaller than he appeared to be in real life. it was impressive, and once again, you found yourself drawn to the sheer size of muscles beside you.

throbbing, even at the simplest touch, as he gave your shoulders squeeze amidst passing by you to collect your plate.

"have to head to bed early. got an audition in the morning." "awesome! was this the one you were telling me about earlier?""yep. i worked with the director once, so fingers crossed?"

roommate!alan who can read your body language early on, and senses that you're hiding something from him.

it was that one question that either turned you into stone, or a babbling buffoon as you would try to avoid the subject.

your occupation.

he didn't know much other than the fact that you worked from home, which was why your bedroom was so intricately set up like a tech start-up.

four different types of cameras, a gaming chair, several monitors for one pc; it was intricate and honestly, alan didn't really understand it.

"so, you don't have to say yes or no, but..." "hm..?""are you a youtuber? like, one of those tech guys who reviews new phones and stuff?""something like that, i guess?" "is it mentally draining?" "more so... physically?"

roommate!alan who asks about your day after coming home from a shoot.

you looked exhausted, drained, wrecked—images of you that he never thought would rile him up. yet, as you groggily came out of your room with flushed skin, and a thirst that needed to be quenched, alan was equally parched just watching you recover your breath in between gulps of water.

cluttered state of mind.

roommate!alan who merely offers you a look of annoyance when you greet him after he arrives home.

you've recognized that look by now, and all you could simply provide was his dinner plate, and a sympathetic pat on the back.

"listen, i know a friend and he has a mutual that can help you—" "not in the mood right now, (m/n).""just trying to help, alan."

roommate!alan who ends the night early, leaving you on the couch with his plate left untouched.

it was awkward, to simply put it. the show you put on happened to be the one he was auditioning for, and then ultimately flunked because he forgot his script. from the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tightening, straining, fork scraping against the ceramic plate as he pushed the fried rice in a corner, and then eastward, because that corner was empty.

though, is it wrong to say that you found it hot? if only there was a less forward and awkward way of saying, 'hey, i'd love to take your mind off of things right now. let me suck you off.'

secret unlocked.

stressed!alan who spends half-an-hour in the shower contemplating whether this career was worth it.

countless of potential roles never making it pass the call-back stage; he was growing exhausted from it. driving from city to city, filling his car with gas that would amount to nothing in the end. he could only stretch his royalties out for so much longer, and—

no, he wasn't a quitter. the last time he felt like this, the next audition was a success. if predictions are right, he'd consider this madness a sign of luck, at least for the meantime.

stressed!alan who needs something to take out his frustration on.

maybe he should head to the gym? no, he already showered. and it was already getting too late for his liking to drive back and forth at this time, even if he wasn't tired.

at the corner of his eye, his laptop glinted with a sparkle.

some good porn would fix him.

stressed!alan who has one hand down his sweats, and the other calmly scrolling through his favorite cam site.

his lips grew chapped, licking them from time to time as he watched the page load without the decency to sugar-coat its offerings. his sight was immediately assaulted with moving thumbnails of women, and men under the spell of their own lust. some squirmed from the uncontrollable feeling of being filled, while others preferred talking to their patrons, touching themselves to the pixelated smut sent through the chat.

stressed!alan who has you on his mind despite the options to choose from, and he squeezes his large balls in his hand.

the cursor maneuvered respectfully around one performer’s breasts and another’s erection in its journey to the filter list. the drop-down menu pulled open and alan checked off the men within his age range.

with a quick load, the website refreshed with a new assortment of performers, and his cock began to sprout at the moving thumbnails. his hand immediately began to feed his growing bulge with gentle squeezes and rubs as he scrolled what seemed to be endless cycle of camboys.

the sudden warmth of his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin. alan removed each article within seconds, yet the flush of his skin remained, ached as it yearned for the physical touch of the seductive men beckoning him.

stressed!alan who felt the world had stopped. the heat frozen in his cheeks, his hands equally mirroring as he hovered over a familiar face. strained, orbs dilated and wandering, and holy shit—so fucking inviting.

it was you.

stressed!alan who watches your stream for a few minutes to decipher if it was truly you before shamelessly stroking his cock after he confirms that it was.

sweat dribbled over your neck and body in diverging streams. your legs were raised on their own accord, thick thighs shaking from the muscles working overdrive to keep you still and perfectly centered before your webcam.

stressed!alan who couldn't believe what he was seeing. it all made sense now, why you were so reluctant to tell what you truly did.

you were a fucking whore. a whore for the internet for everyone to goon to, to cum to. he can imagine it now, how much pleasure you'd given these men as he watched you fuck yourself with a cucumber.

and he was one of them. alan's large cock was manhandled by his hand, stroking sloppily with an ample amount of lube squeezed over the flesh of throbbing muscle.

all those memories of you looking so wrecked came fluttering in. you looked wrecked because you were fucking wrecked.

by a fucking cucumber.

and alan has never been so envious of a vegetable despite eating them on a daily.

you were plunging your tight hole with a long cucumber, slickly lubed from the condom over the girth of the green plant. with every push of your wrist, your legs caved into the pressure to set themselves down, but every time the crown of the plant pressed into your prostate, you were reminded of the viewers who had been donating, their pop-up messages urging you to keep them up 'like a good boy.'

stressed!alan who jerks himself off to the rhythm of your wrist.

every time you sank the thick cucumber inside of you, alan paced himself to match your tempo, plunging himself into his closed fist, mimicking your refusing hole by opening his fingers one-by-one, until he had fully breached through.

stressed!alan who mutters to himself, who mutters words that you couldn't hear because you were busy pleasuring yourself for hundreds of men watching you.

"fuck yeah, take that dick..." "too big for you?""fuck, we'll make it fit."

stressed!alan who imagines himself fucking into you.

he knew his cock was big. he'd been told countless of times, by men and women, and lots of time, they would quit a few minutes in because it was just too much.

but you, he was certain that you were able to take him. because—fuck—alan was bigger than that cucumber you were fucking yourself open with. it needed a glorious amount of lube, like what you had displayed before him, dripping heavily from your abused cavity, but luckily, you had experience in handling big sizes, right?

you'd take him, like the 'good boy' the users were spamming in the chatbox. you'd take him with your eyes forced shut from him stretching you out. from alan's impatience and reluctance to wait for you to adjust to him, because he's fucking furious at you.

why didn't you tell him sooner? why were you hiding this from him? how could you be so selfish and leave him blue-balled whenever you'd come out in those shorts of yours? teasing him with the smallest glimpse of your inner thighs?

if he could ever lay his hands on you, he'd show no mercy. fucking your ass doggy-style till your cheeks clapped. plunging you with his cock as you spread your legs open for him. locking your throat with his arm while he's under you, your back pressed to his chest, rendering you trapped within his embrace. you'd take his cock in every position, in every state, whether you'd like it or not, because you were a good, fucking, boy.

stressed!alan who spits on his cock because you began simultaneously filling your mouth up with a dildo.

spit. god, there was so much spit coming out of your mouth. you loved pushing yourself to the limit, alan could see it. the light leaving your eyes whenever you pushed the dildo a little too far to the back of your throat. that could be his cock, if you let him.

he imagined how warm your mouth would be. how perfectly shaped it's made for his thick, meaty cock. he had the perfect curve to make it a struggle to swallow him down, but like he noticed, you loved a challenge, didn't you?

alan's cock was plump, and beaten red in his hand. noises similar to the sound of you sucking off the dildo were made with his hand, his spit and lube sloshing together in a lewd symphony that could be heard from your room if you'd learn to shut up.

"choke on it, gag on that fucking dick..." "fuck yeah, spit on it.""good fucking boy."

stressed!alan who's nearing his climax from watching you tease the camera with your hole.

you repeated countless of profanities after every plunge of the cucumber flushing deep inside of you. you made sure to buy the girthiest one; they loved seeing your asshole gape at the end of the stream. twisting your wrist, you could feel the subtle ridges of the cucumber, violating your guts with its nature, and it was all-so glorious. the size, the texture, the viewers, the sound of donations coming in, the ‘thank you’ messages after for making them come; you were a true star within this community and it evidently showed when you finally hit your donation goal for the night.

alan fucked his fist, nearly coming to the sight of your gaping hole when you yanked the cucumber out of you like a sword-wielding knight ready to slay a dragon.

it was beautiful, watching you desperately hold onto the physical being of the cucumber, but all there was to it in the end was the memory of its girth. your hole was perfectly molded it, clenching and pursing, blowing fluttering kisses to the camera, to alan.

and if it was up to him, he'd ram his cock into you by now, not letting a second to spare in fucking you until your muscles felt like jelly, because fuck, you were so enticing like this. head lolled back, mouth open with your tongue hanging out as if you had a dripping cock to catch its cum above you.

the sound of donations kept chiming in, and alan knew he wasn't alone in this enchantment.

one more hit to your prostate, and you came undone in seconds. thick spurts of cum shot at your chest from your current position, then at your face when you raised your hips a little higher and pumped your cock with a ravishing fist. the sound of donations rang like a police siren. if you were being profiled for a crime, it was because you couldn’t hold in your cum any longer like one user had begged for you to.

stressed!alan who perfectly aligns his orgasm with yours and blows multiple loads on the screen on his laptop. his moans came out in hushed stutters, countering your choked whimpers that would then break out into begs for cum.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. i need your cum, i need it. give me all of it, fuck. all over my body. in my ass. on my face. i need that load."

his cum came out in thick, pulsating ropes, flying forward to land on the image of you resuming to fuck yourself to your audience's collective orgasm. this time, at a closer view, as you centered the camera to fill the stream with a screenful of ass and a gaping hole. it was your fans' favorite part of the stream, the chat exploding in several fire emojis and astonishment as you showed your pretty insides blooming for thick, endless spunk.

it was hypnotizing, almost as if you were really there before him.

with one hand, alan brought his laptop in between his legs, and smeared his own cum over the blooming resolution of his screen. feigning a breeding, he slides his cock over his cum, over his laptop screen, while you moaned in the background, begging lewdly for cum, to be filled, to be bred, to be dripping, to be fucked, and alan doesn't know what came over him, but another load automatically came out of him like some kind of spell.

"h-holy shit...""fuck, yeah... give me that load, all your load... are my fans breeding me right now?"

alan painted you until you were practically hidden beneath the layers of his orgasm. translucent white blurred the screen, but he could still make out your silhouette. sitting now, exhausted, wrecked, evidently too tired to be bothered to clean up the mess you made on your body.

and just like that, his head felt lighter. all of his worries had left with every dump of load over your pixelated hole, and yours as well, as you leaned back to catch your breath with your eyes closed. his breathing matched the pace of yours, together, collectively, and all he could do was shortly laugh at the situation before him.

roommate!alan who greets you in the morning with a strange smirk as you made yourself breakfast.

"i can see why your job is physically draining now." "hm?" you yawned. "what are you talking—"

roommate!alan who pulls out a cucumber from the fridge, and cuts it into thin slices for his morning smoothie.

"i-i can explain—""you can make it up to me tonight."

he popped a slice into his mouth after.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#alan ritchson x male reader #alan ritchson x reader #alan ritchson x m!reader #alan ritchson x you #alan ritchson x y/n #alan ritchson imagine #x you #x reader #x male reader #male reader #m!reader #✰ : nou.celebs #✰ : nou.alanritchson #nou.fics

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st4rbwrry · 6 months

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━━ 𝑘𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 .ᐟ satoru + getou.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.9k. fem chubby reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded, threesome but getou’s our boyfie so boyfriend’s best friend trope!, anal + vaginal penetration, oral [ f ], handjob, a few lil gay moments teehee, getou is kinda insecure, satoru takes most of the lead, spitting, choking, check ins, impact play, praising, condom use, cockwarming, creampie, potential polyamory?, minors aren’t welcomed!

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; dedicated to my bestie bc she harassed me about a getou + gojo fic since i never continued impure :/ <3 @thecoochiefairy

their postures are statue-like once you step foot out of the bathroom, both men eyeing you from head to toe, getou instantly standing to his feet with clammy hands he rested on his hips. satoru remained seated, legs spread as he groaned and pulled at his soft snow hair. they were lost for words. while they were busy finding a bar to grab a drink at the mall, you wandered off in search of a lingerie set, finding a simple pearl white babydoll, sheer mesh bodice, an open flyaway back, and matching panty set. it made you feel pretty, so you wore it for them.

their silence made your heart race nervously, playing with the fabric as your eyes flicker between the two faces, waiting for a response.

"you like it?" your voice is quiet as a mouse.

"i love it," they say in unison. getou blinks, forgetting he was here, honestly.

"you're fuckin' gorgeous, baby," satoru finally stands, being the first one to walk towards you, cupping the side of your face in his palm. you grow hot immediately. "stunning."

even though you've never had the slightest sexual encounter with satoru, the way he had your mind running wild with imagination was near insanity. of course, it was wrong to think of another man while clearly in a committed relationship. but, it was impossible when he was always around you. making jokes here and there about clearly wanting to fuck you. the infatuation was clear as day. you hated your attraction to him. that's why you had to do this, why you wanted it. both of them at once. your feelings were mutual towards them equally, and the sexual tension would never ease unless this happened. plus, it was your birthday. and as your gift, you asked getou for this one thing. your puppy dog eyes making him unable to object.

"give me your hands," you hold out both of yours, getou swallowing and coming forward to gently clasp your small hand, satoru doing the same before you smile and turn, the men stumbling behind you with their eyes on your ass, guiding them towards the bedroom.

a rush of confidence sparks through you now. you've been wanting this for so long, so it's only right that you show them. closing the door behind them, they stare ahead, looking down to see your fingers delicately skid across their abdomens, lifting their shirts and moaning at the abs on both of their bodies. they were toned, buff in the arms but nothing steroid-like. deeply cut v-lines and slim waists. you nearly drool from the feel, desperate to clutch their waists as they fucked you hard without a care.

"baby," it's clear you're referring to getou by the purr in your voice, tits pressed firmly against his side as he looks down at you with a clench of his jaw.

"mhm?" is how he responds, trying his best to remain complacent.

"take control," you bat your lashes. "it's your pussy before his."

getou groans, satoru's grin is sadistic, finding himself clasping your wrist, taking your attention from your boyfriend and burning his eyes in your own, tugging you near him. he caresses your face admirably, humming.

"aren't you obedient," satoru's palm slaps against the side of your cheek as he chuckles, and to getou's point of view, it's absurdly violent. you've never felt this spark before, the action making your heart thump with excitement. the look on your boyfriend's face was pure anger, that deadpanned expression only meaning that he was ready to snap. satoru tries to do it again, but is stopped as soon as getou catches his wrist forcefully.

"are you asking to die?" getou seethes, satoru only raising a brow, no remorse.

"you're really blind, huh?" satoru laughs, side-eyeing you. "she likes it. don't tell me your sex life is that dull."

getou inhales, releasing his wrist once you touch the side of his face reassuringly, smiling hazily. "i like it, it's okay."

he's stuck. not sure how to respond nor react. there's so much more he has to know about you. teach himself about. even though it's only been four months into your relationship, he feels like a stranger, uneducated about your sexual desires. now he's concerned if he pleasures you enough or not. maybe this was a lesson. maybe he should let satoru do most of the work and observe while still being present. watch your reactions to things he says or does that rile you up. there was nothing wrong with being taught.

"tell me what you want," getou clenches his jaw, grabbing the back of your head and tugging softly. getou was extremely soft and caring during sex, and although you were fond of it, sometimes you wanted him to be the opposite. "i'll give you anything. just say it."

warmth fills your chest, so entranced by his sweetness. your eyes lock with satoru's, "wanna ride his face."

satoru tongues his inner cheek, looking you up and down once more. " 'course you do."

getou has his eyes on you the entire time, those big eyes of yours wide with anticipation. "can i?”

"don't ask me with that innocent tone. you're anything but," getou grunts, taking you back by his side possessively. "come sit on me."

you follow like a lost puppy, getou taking his seat on the middle of the bed, one leg propped up as you crawl on your hands and knees to him, your face in his hands he caressed gently with his thumbs, kissing you and admiring you a while longer. satoru stands behind you, tilting his head to the side to capture a picture of the cute set on your body, his hands on your ass he brings back to rub the outline of his jean-clad cock against, groaning.

"fuck, you're really soft," his hand gropes your ass hard and it makes you whine, getou watching as you bite your lip and brush back against satoru who's dry humping you through the mesh thong you wore. "my dick is so fuckin' hard right now."

you swear your clits pulsating like a goddamn vibrator, moaning into getou's mouth after he kisses you, his eyes dark and pointed viciously in satoru's way, shoving his tongue in your mouth, barely paying you attention. he's watching satoru, making sure he takes care of you, doesn't hurt you. because if he did, he'd have to hurt him. satoru chuckles from the quiet obvious threat, molding your flesh in his rough palms. you're arching your back like a cat, panting in your boyfriend's mouth who's aware of your body sensitivity. the smallest touches leaving you feral. a cool breeze of air hits your soaked core as satoru pulls your panties to your knees, raising them so they're off fully, needing access to every region.

"fuck, that's a nice ass pussy," satoru grins, knitting his dark brows together, crystal blue eyes darting between getou and your weeping cunt. you yelp when two of his fingers brush over your clit, sliding it up to your core he taps a few times and hums. then he's bringing his fingers to his nose, liking the smell before he's sucking them off. "damn, this really all yours?"

getou rolls his eyes after satoru whistles, not waiting for him to say anything, which he doesn't, blocking him out anyways. it's all about you. he wants you and he's gonna stay focused on that. he's lowering to his knees on the ground, positioning your thighs so they're spread wider, barely preparing you before he's literally kissing at your cunt with tongue, like full on making out with it. you shudder instantly, mouth dropping and gripping at getou's thigh as satoru grunts and slurps up your juices, thrusting those same fingers into you. your eyes widen partially when his tongue trails up to your puckering hole, spitting, then kissing it up, bobbing his head up and down the entirety of you.

"ooo, my god. . ." you gasp, grinding back against his face, blindly tugging at the waistband of getou's jeans, getou studying you as your face turns in ecstasy, fumbling with your hands as you pull out his cock, whimpering as you spit into your small hand before wrapping it around to pump. getou clenches his jaw, placing his hand over yours to stoke it together, his bubblegum lips pouty as he kisses you hard, swallowing your moans.

"like fuckin' candy," satoru kisses your clit hard, lips wet before he's sucking on it hard, tongue moving everywhere, skidding over your thighs as he laps you up with a deep ‘fuck’, jaw moving side to side and his hand spanking your ass slow like he's drunk, the impact hard. it's a pattern, his spews of fuck become monotonous the more he eats at it.

fuck. spank, then moved his mouth. fuck. spank, then applies more pressure with his tongue. fuck. spanks you ten times harder, then growls. it was driving you mad, unable to stop shifting your ass.

"he's not gonna stop until you cum," getou says, now holding your throat in his hand, your face contorted as you whine.

"not once," satoru counters, getou looking over your shoulder with a brow raised, eyes trailing back to yours without disagreement.

"more than once."

"m'almost there," you cry, his mouth all too good, never reaching an orgasm this quickly.

"are you?" getou hums tauntingly, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. you nod, your breath hitching as he bites your lower lip and sucks, blood rushing. you jerk your hand faster, keeping it on the tip like he liked, getou folding easily, hips twitching.

"gonna give it to me?" satoru asks, never ceasing his assault, in love with the way your knees buckle.

"nnn, yea," you chew on your lips, already fucked out. not prepared for what they had in store for you next.

"yeah?" satoru mocks your tone, stuffing his fingers into you and moving to your desired pace. your vision goes static like an old television when you cum, falling forward to rest your cheek on your boyfriend's chest, both the men half stripping throughout your fixation. getou stops you from pulling at his dick, afraid he'll cum too quick. you have that affect on him.

satoru doesn't stop when you cum, he keeps going, more than once, he said. and he meant it. it's worse when getou pulls you up to suck on your neck, tugging at the hardened buds of your nipples , both men touching you at once was filthy, your head buzzing and your mouth nonstop with pornographic sonances. satoru takes his breath when he stands, licking you off his lips as if you were the best fucking dessert he's ever had. while you're left breathless, getou and satoru are pulling off the rest of their clothing, achingly hard they couldn't stand it any longer. you could read them well, especially getou, knowing when he's near done.

getou lays on his back and he pulls you on top of him, your messy face still so adorable. satoru grabs the bottle of lube and two condoms stashed in his drawer before coming back to the bed, brushing the white hair from his face and staring down at you as you turn to look behind yourself, teasing him by grinding your hips midair. satoru snickers, climbing on the bed and resting on his knees. he looks at getou.

"you go first."

your smile is lazy, hugging your man by his neck and cradling your face between it. getou holds out his hand, satoru passing him a condom, the gold packaging being torn with his teeth before he's tossing it aside and sliding it down his cock resting on his stomach.

"lift your hips," getou rasps, hands calloused on either side of your thighs, helping you up till he's sinking you down on it, stretching you good like he always does. you whimper by his ear, clenching your cunt around him once he's fully inside, swaying your ass, belly to belly as you grind and say his favorite word he liked to hear most of all from you; his name.

after satoru's secure, he spreads the lubricant over himself and then some on his fingers he uses to prep you. your cute little hole tensing when the heat from them grazes you, satoru telling you to take a deep breath and relax yourself before he's pressing against the unused entrance. you gasp when he managed to get them in, carefully thrusting past his knuckles. his fingers were as long as getou's. getou tries not to lose it, your pussy warming his cock with little to no movement. satoru continues to prep you for two more minutes, wanting to make sure he eases the discomfort just a bit.

"satoru," you whimper his name, giving him permission to take his turn.

it's a clear signal, and he doesn't waste time, towering over you and pinning down your lower back to arch you a little more. getou soothes you by caressing the sides of your legs, as well as smoothing them over your back. satoru aligns his reddened cockhead to your hole, kissing up your back as he gently pushes into you, inch by inch. the unknown stretch burns, getou turning his head to whisper comforting words to keep your mind off the pain, lifting his hips to fuck into you. the mixture of pain and pleasure has you clawing at his shoulders.

halfway in, satoru decides to bring you up, clutching your chin and getting his turn to taste your lips, sliding, slowly, deeper inside the longer his mouth moved with yours, getou observing you both.

"it's good? you're good?" satoru says in between breaths, hips so close to touching your ass.

"m'good. move, please."

it's enough to make both men move in sync, satoru biting at your neck with his face scrunched up, eyeing getou beneath you. the pain subsides, and all you feel are the tingles in the pit of your stomach, dragging out your moans as they both pounded into you, satoru finally getting deep like he wanted since you relaxed more.

"jesus, fuck . . . mmm," for some reason, the erotic expression on satoru's face makes getou blush, biting his lip as he watches the two of you lose yourselves. how you scratch at his shoulder and the elicit eye roll satoru does. getou never thought he'd feel like this, or like seeing you fuck another man so much.

"you look pretty as fuck taking both of us," getou grunts, smacking at your tits and you keen in shock. satoru must be getting to him now. you scream as the two men fuck you like they'd lost their sanity, gushing around getou's cock while satoru aggressively knocks his dick into you, both following each other's rhythms for you. your skin clashing, pouncing back on them.

"shit," getou whimpers, hips stuttering as he cums inside his condom, chest heaving erratically. you rush your hand over his hair, tugging and riding them still. satoru has his arm around your neck now, slamming his hips against your ass which makes you let go of getou, holding onto his forearm as your tongue lolls out and satoru switches positions.

you're lifted off getou, satoru tossing his condom off to slide into your sluice cunt, groaning and closing his eyes from the new feeling.

"cum inside me," it has getou stunned since you've never said that once, deathly afraid of the idea of pregnancy. maybe you gained a breeding kink overnight. he wonders what videos you researched prior to this that sparked this sudden fantasy to be dominated by two men, two roommates, two new best friends.

"was doing that anyways," he licks the shell of your ear with a malicious cackle. "bet you'd let me fuck you raw every day if it meant I'd get to fill you up."

"yess, baby," you weep, out of your mind entirely.

"baby?" satoru whistles, glaring at getou who only blinked. what's up with you? were you under his spell or something? "i like that. you tryna' make one with me?"

"get smacked," getou threatens.

satoru only grins, grabbing your chin and pressing his nose to your cheek, keeping his eyes on getou. "don't wanna be a daddy with me? it'd be fun. I'll push the stroller and you hold her hand so she doesn't trip with the other kid in her belly."

"cut it," getou seethes.

"you're no fun," satoru pouts, still fucking you back on his dick like it's nothing, your head spinning. his attentions back on you. "say it one more time for me."

"baby," you slur, swallowing the extra saliva built up in your mouth from drooling, giggling when he groans in approval.

"good fuckin' girl," satoru hisses, yanking you back hard, like some rag doll, your screams softening the longer he prolonged, balls slapping against your sticky clit and your tits bouncing so cutely in your babydoll set.

you slap your hands on getou's torso once you cum for your third time, tone drowning out by satoru's who growls and paints your tight walls white, your legs frantically twitching as you fall forward, getou swallowing, endlessly fascinated by you as he rubs you to cool you down.

"wanna watch it drip," satoru keens, raising your ass and holding the dip of your spine down, licking his lips as he watches the way his cum glides from you. "damn, i think it's my birthday, honestly."

you're spent, still shaky and barely having air left in your lungs. satoru leans over you, kisses your cheek with a loud 'muah!' before doing the same to getou, only he kisses him on the lips.

"don't kiss me, asshole!" getou splutters, palm over satoru's face as he shoved him away. you giggle weakly into your boyfriend's chest, reaching behind yourself to keep satoru pressed to your back for warmth, the three of you snuggled up comfortably.

“thank you babe,” you smile, elated.

“you’re welcome, baby,” they say in unison.

getou rolls his eyes, a petty grunt released. “she’s not talking to you.”

“s’okay, her pussy did,” satoru cackles, kissing your cheek with tongue to piss the black-haired man off even further. he remains silent. this time.

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macgyvermedical · 1 year

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Building Your Home Pharmacy

So you're in the OTC med section of the pharmacy. You've got 100 bucks burning a hole in your pocket (or maybe like $15 cause you're just starting). You're a new adult who wants to build yourself a tidy home pharmacy.

Well first you've got to know some stuff about over the counter (OTC) meds. This is the post to help you do it.

What are OTC meds? They are medications you can buy from a pharmacy or grocery store without needing a prescription. They have been deemed relatively safe and relatively easy to dose without a doctor's intervention. This does not mean they can't be dangerous, just that the general public can generally be trusted not to accidentally kill themselves with them on the regular. Keep that in your mind for later.

Note that all the medications discussed below are given in their generic names. In order to find these names, look below the brand name on a medication bottle:

Pain Medications:

Acetaminophen/Paracetamol: This is a non-NSAID pain reliever and fever reducer, so it's great for people who can't take NSAIDs due to stomach or kidney issues. Works best for headaches and fevers, but works on other types of pain as well. Technically works best as a suppository, but still works some orally. No increased risk of bleeding. Don't take more than directed. Seriously. This one can kill you or seriously damage your liver.

Ibuprofen: NSAID. Works against pain, inflammation, and fever. Take on a full stomach or you could get ulcers. Don't take if you have kidney problems. You can take this with acetaminophen.

Naproxen: NSAID. Probably the most effective for pain, but works against inflammation and fever as well. Lasts 12 hours. Don't take high doses continuously or you will get kidney problems. You can take this with acetaminophen.

Aspirin: NSAID. This was the first NSAID and it's definitely here to give you stomach ulcers if you don't take it on a full stomach. Technically it works for pain, inflammation, and fever. Most people today take it as a blood thinner. You can take this with acetaminophen.

Allergy/Cold/Congestion Medications:

Diphenhydramine/Doxalamine: First Generation Antihistamines. These are great for nighttime allergies, coughs, insomnia, nausea, and itching. Most people get drowsy from these, but some people get really hyper, especially kids.

Cetirazine/Loratadine/Fexofenadine: Second Generation Antihistamines. These work for allergies and itching and don't cause as much drowsiness.

Phenylephrine/Pseudoephedrine: Decongestants. These work by mimicking epinephrine, making the blood vessels in the nose and sinuses smaller. This makes the nose and sinuses less stuffy, but it raises blood pressure (so don't take if that's a problem for you). Pseudoephedrine is also restricted- you must be an adult to purchase and you can only buy so much. You have to talk to a pharmacist to get it because it can be used to make methamphetamine.

Triamcinolone/budesonide/fluticasone Nasal Spray: These are steroid sprays. They work similarly to the decongestants but only in the nose, and generally don't travel to the rest of the body.

Guifenesin: This is an expectorant, not a decongestant. It works by thinning the mucous in the lungs and airway. This makes it easier for you to cough it up. You have to drink a lot of water with this for it to work, though.

Dextromethorphan: This is a cough suppressant. It works by blocking signals in the brain that tell you to cough. Pretty much everything interacts with this one so if you take any medications talk to your doctor first. Depending on where you live you may have to talk to a pharmacist to get this one due to the potential for abuse.

Digestive Medications

Loperamide: This is an antidiarrheal. It works by decreasing the amount of squishing around your intestines are doing, which helps you hold your diarrhea and lets you continue to function. It is an opioid, but is not absorbed from your digestive tract so it doesn't make you high.

Bismuth Subsalicylate: This works for diarrhea as well, but also nausea, heartburn, and the prevention of traveler's diarrhea. Don't take if you're allergic to salicylates or aspirin. Taking this for an extended period of time can also cause bismuth toxicity.

Calcium Carbonate: This is an antacid. It is very basic pH wise, so can help change the pH of stomach contents pretty quickly. This is usually used for heartburn. If you take any other medications, this can prevent you from absorbing them if you take them within two hours. Using for long periods can cause rebound heartburn when you stop taking it.

Cemetidine/Famotidine/Ranitadine: These are gastric acid reducers, and they work by blocking the type of histamine that is necessary for the production of stomach acid. They are usually used for heartburn and ulcers.

Omeprezole/Esomeprezole: These are also gastric acid reducers, but they work by blocking a different part of the very complicated way our stomachs make acid. After years and years of taking these you might get some bone density problems.

Bisocodyl/Senna: These are laxatives. They work by increasing the movement of the intestines. It's important not to take these consistently unless you can't poop at all without them, or you seriously will not be able to poop without them.

Docusate/Propylene Glycol: These are stool softeners. They work by increasing the amount of water in the intestines. These are pretty safe to take all the time if you need to.

Simethicone: This is a surfactant. It works by accumulating all the gas bubbles in the intestines so they can be expelled. It's usually used for painful gas.

Topical Medications:

Clotrimezole/Miconazole: These are antifungal preparations. They treat yeast infections, athletes foot, jock itch, and ringworm.

Triple Antibiotic Ointment: This is a cream that contains antibiotics. Ostensibly you're supposed to put this on small cuts to decrease risk of infection. IRL just clean it with soap and water and then put some vasaline on it. Studies have shown it works just as well.

Hydrocortisone: This is a steroid cream. You put it on itchy things (bug bites, poison ivy, etc...) and it makes them not itch as much. This one actually works and is generally better than diphenhydramine creams that can't be used on poison ivy.

Permethrin: This is an insecticide. It will help get rid of head and body lice.

Zinc Oxide: This is a skin protectant. It helps prevent diaper rash and chafing. It also makes things feel better once you've already chafed. Technically it is also a sunblock, but it will make you look like a ghost while you're wearing it.

Family Planning:

Levonorgestrel: This is known as the morning after pill. It works by blocking ovulation, so that a sperm and egg cannot meet, preventing pregnancy. It can be taken up to 5 days after unprotected sex, though it works better the sooner it is taken.

Devices:

Blood Sugar Meter/Strips/Lancets: These help measure the amount of sugar in your blood. They are usually used by people with diabetes.

Blood Pressure Cuff: This measures blood pressure automatically with a cuff around the upper arm or wrist. It is usually used by people with high blood pressure.

Ketogenic Test Strips: This measures the amount of ketones in the urine. Ketones are a byproduct of fat breakdown, usually found when the body cannot breakdown carbohydrates for energy and begins to break down fat instead. Usually people who are on a ketogenic diet or people with diabetes use these.

Peak Flow Meter: This measures the amount of air that can be used by the lungs. They are usually used by people with asthma or COPD.

Great, Which Ones Do I Need?

I'd recommend look over the list and see which ones would be most useful for you, and start with those. Over time, collect ones that would be most embarrassing to not have, and then the ones that you're pretty sure you'll never use.

Note that in a dry, unopened package (including inside blister packs), drugs last well beyond their expiration dates. So if you don't use a certain med all that often, get a smaller package of it.

Great, Which Ones Can I Take at the Same Time?

Good question. I'm going to say that if you take any prescription medications, you always want to check with your doctor before taking anything OTC. However, I recommend you use an interaction checker like this one if you want to take more than one OTC med at the same time. One can be found here.

Note:

Loperamide CANNOT be taken with cimetidine/ranitidine/famotidine. This causes bad heart rhythms.

Don't take two meds from the same category together (like cimetadine with ranitidine, or ibuprofen with naproxen, or diphenhydramine and fexofenadine unless a doctor tells you to).

Most antacids (calcium carbonate, sodium bicarbonate) will prevent the absorption of other medications, so take them two hours apart from anything else you take.

Don't drink alcohol with loperamide, detromethophan, acetaminophen, or any antihistamines.

#Adulting #Adulting reference #young adults #new adults #whump reference #writing reference #medications #over the counter medication #OTC #reference

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dqrciedaily · 5 months

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baby arsenal headcannons, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: i am so so so sorry that this isn’t an actual fic but i’ve left yous without anything for like two weeks so take this 🥰🥰🥰

warning - this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes x

1. she is maths no.1 public enemy - literally will stare at her homework for two hours instead of actually trying it. then the next day at school she gets in trouble for not doing it but she genuinely couldn’t care less because she’d rather have them email lia than try do trigonometry

2. her tiktok reposts and twitter likes have fans speculating like there is no tomorrow - she’s definitely liked transfer rumours on twitter before as well as reposting things she shouldn’t be and she reposts things that happened way back way but people think it’s about her current situation, leading to some very concerned fans in her tiktok comments and instagram requests.

3. baby girl has stina and laura wrapped around her finger - she’s cold? stina’s gonna give her the jumper she’s wearing. she’s hungry? laura’s up to make her something to eat, even though maus is perfectly capable of doing it herself. they’re basically on her beck and call.

4. she always curses out players in german on the pitch - when she was younger her brothers taught her the art of cursing people out in german then speaking in english to confuse them. however this did not work when arsenal played chelsea and she went flying after a tackle from nüsken, who very obviously understands german, leading to maus getting a yellow.

5. which leads to the next point which is that she gets her fair share of yellows - giving katie a run for her money, although most of hers come from back chatting the ref and not from actual gameplay, although she isn’t afraid to put in a heavy tackle here and there.

6. her + kyra = little shits on steroids - on the first media day of the season they decided to put y/n and kyra in three of the same interviews, let’s just say absolutely nothing productive happened until caitlin had to come in to do an interview with the two of them.

7. she’s lia’s no.1 reason for her early gray hairs - firstly maus is awful at answering phone calls, so if she’s out with her friends and lia needs something best believe she cannot contact her. secondly the amount of emails the school sends her may send lia into overdrive, she genuinely couldn’t care less if y/n didn’t do her homework as long as she’s passing all her classes, which she is (besides math but lia doesn’t need to know that.)

8. y/n has the best outfits - her instagram feed is filled with mirror pics of her outfits and they’re all just so good!!! she’s known for her fashionable clothes throughout the woso community.

9. she gets really really really nervous when doing interviews by herself - she already refuses to do orals in school because they stress her out too much, so after her first full 90 for arsenal she gets called to do an interview and poor girl is swaying from side to side the entire time, stumbling over her words and overall looking like a deer caught in headlights.

10. the first time she brings a girl or boy home lia gets a group of the girls to pretend they’re over for dinner without telling y/n - so then when y/n gets home she sees most of her teammates there and very hastily shoves her ‘friend’ upstairs, before going over to the girls who all tease her. then when she’s upstairs in her room with her ‘friend’ they all take turns coming upstairs to walk past the closed door to hear what they’re talking about.

11. she is a hugger of note - the first time she meant all the girls minus her shy demeanour she hugged every single teammate she met. she is also a massive cuddler, on the team bus she makes ours sit in the window seat (much to the brunettes complains) then uses kyra as a pillow which 1. forces kyra to be quiet because she doesn’t want to wake y/n and 2. she can’t move around the bus as she wants deciding to annoy everyone which the other girls are very thankful for.

12. her first crush on a girl was laura freigang, who she had seen around the german youth camps before - she even told her parents at one stage that she was going to go to penn state just like lau did but that phase was short lived when she then developed a crush on one of her teammates in her age group instead.

13. in another life she’s a dj who lives in ibiza - literally no explanation needed, she truly is a party animal at heart and would go to all the festivals and raves possible during the off season.

#darcie’s drabbles #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader

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catbatart · 2 months

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TW: Pet Health

Hey guys, as some of you know, our cat Phoebus was diagnosed with Lymphoma at the beginning of this year. Initially it was registering as small cell and he seemed to be taking really well to his oral chemo. However, on Thursday, Phoebus' health did a rapid turn around and he spent all day hiding and barely eating.

We got him into the vet and it looks like he is no longer responding to his chemo. The Lymphoma may have graduated from small cell to the more aggressive large cell.

We are going to increase his steroid to hopefully make him feel better, but it seems we have left the 'hoping he goes into remission' phase and have entered the 'maintaining the best quality of life we can' phase. If the steroids don't work, he's got maybe a couple weeks. If they do work, we might get a couple more months out of him.

Anyway, I am going through a really rough spot right now and just wanted to update people.

He's our beautiful, cuddly little golden boy, and it feels like I'm having to brace myself to say goodbye to a member of the family. Every day is feeling like a struggle and we're just hoping that the time we have left with him is happy for him.

#tw pet loss #tw pet illness #not art #personal stuff #update

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wannabehockeygf · 1 month

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Florida!!! - Clayton Keller

“My friends all smell like weed or little babies,

And this city reeks of driving myself crazy,

Little did you know, your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in?

So you work your life away,

Just to pay for a timeshare down in Destin.”

Summary: On a family vacation with your boyfriend, you find him stoned with his brother, and when he gets you alone, things escalate…

Word Count: 5k

Pairing: Clayton Keller x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW! Use of drugs (marijuana), oral sex (f receiving), Clayton being an absolute munch.

Notes:

- been indulging recently (it’s perfectly legal where i live, don’t @ me…) so real life projection!

- munch Clayton is finally here for my girlies who enjoy him as much as I do!

- also I’m still not over ttpd. no skip album.

- not proof read <3

***

*EDIT 08/15/2024 @ 8:31pm PST : His brother’s name is Jake. Not Luke. Sorry if you read prior 😭 (hughes brother brainrot)

A vacation with your boyfriend’s family? Oh, this was uncharted territory. I mean, you’d survived Thanksgiving dinner at his parents’ house in St. Louis—barely. But that was just one night. One turkey. One slightly-too-long hug from his mom. You’d only been together five months, after all.

But now, here you are, basking in the relentless sunshine of Destin, Florida, sharing a timeshare with them. A timeshare. This is like Thanksgiving on steroids, with no escape hatch. The place is stupidly nice, though. Like, if Pottery Barn threw up on a beach house, this would be it. Sure, Clayton probably financed half of it, but you still feel like you’re tiptoeing through a very fragile house of cards. One wrong move and you’ll topple the whole “good impression” thing you’ve got going on. So yeah, “best behavior” mode is fully engaged, like a 24/7 surveillance camera on yourself.

But then, the moment of truth. After a blissful solo beach jaunt—because let’s be honest, sometimes you just need a break from all that “family bonding”—you wander into the garage, nose twitching at some weird smell. Is that...skunk? No, no. Please don’t be a skunk. You cautiously push open the door, and what do you find? Clayton and his brother, Jake, in full bro-mode sitting in flimsy lawn chairs, laughing like they’re at some frat party, sharing hits from a brightly colored bong.

Well, that’s definitely a new one.

Really, Clayton? You’re on a family vacation, not reliving your glory days as "Chad, the King of Sigma Nu." Is this his idea of “relaxing with the fam?” Plus, isn’t smoking bad for your lungs? Especially for a hockey player. You stand there for a second, frozen like you’ve just walked in on a murder mystery party and are trying to figure out if you’re the victim or the detective. Your mind is a hurricane of thoughts: Should I laugh? Should I be offended? Is this one of those “testing the girlfriend” moments? Because honestly, who packs a bong for a trip to a family-friendly beach destination?

You catch Clayton’s eye, and for a split second, you see the gears in his head screech to a halt. Jake, on the other hand, is blissfully unaware of your presence, too busy blowing a perfect smoke ring that floats lazily toward the ceiling. Clayton gives you this wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights look, which would be adorable if it weren’t so stupid. Oh, sweetheart, you are so busted.

“Heyyy,” Clayton says, dragging out the word like he’s trying to slow time. “You, uh, back already?”

You blink. “Yeah, funny thing, I actually live here too. With your family. On vacation. Remember?”

He shifts uncomfortably in his lawn chair—seriously, who uses lawn chairs indoors?—and suddenly, you’re struck by how much this scene looks like a low-budget college film. The only thing missing is a dorm fridge stocked with PBR and a poster of Bob Marley on the wall. Instead, it’s all beige walls and perfectly coordinated coastal decor that just screams, “Don’t touch anything.”

Jake finally notices you and breaks into a grin, lifting the bong like it’s a trophy. “Hey, you wanna join?”

Oh, great, you think, now I’m one of the bros.

But before you can respond, Clayton is already scrambling to fix this train wreck. “No, no, she doesn’t want to join! Right, babe?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Where did you guys even get that? I mean, isn’t smoking pot like… illegal in this state?”

Clayton, bless his clueless heart, is staring at you with wide, bloodshot eyes like a puppy that just realized it’s chewed up your favorite shoes. Meanwhile, Jake— who you’re now starting to think might actually be a golden retriever in human form—waves the bong around like he’s offering you a slice of pizza at a sleepover.

“Illegal? Pssh, not if you don’t get caught,” Jake says with a wink that’s meant to be charming but lands somewhere between “bad decision” and “future mugshot.”

Clayton clears his throat and finally sets the bong down on the cement floor, like he’s slowly disarming a bomb. “It’s just, you know, for relaxation. Family vacations can be...stressful.”

You tilt your head, considering this. Stressful? You’ve been trying to make sure his mom doesn’t hate you and his dad doesn’t think you’re a gold-digger. And he’s the one who’s stressed? You bite back a laugh, because now’s really not the time to remind him that you’ve been fake-smiling so much your cheeks are about to cramp.

“Oh, totally,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because nothing says ‘stress relief’ like hiding in the garage with your brother, getting high while the rest of your family is out there expecting you to be getting ready for dinner.”

Clayton scratches the back of his neck, his go-to move when he’s trying to avoid a conversation. It’s endearing, really. In a way that also makes you want to strangle him. “I wasn’t— I mean, we were just—” He stumbles over his words, and you can practically see the gears in his head struggling to find a logical explanation that isn’t “We’re idiots.”

You take a deep breath, rolling your eyes so hard you’re worried they might get stuck. But, honestly, are you even surprised? In the last five months, you’ve learned that Clayton’s the kind of guy who accidentally dips his fries in your ketchup while trying to impress you with some half-baked philosophical theory about life. Which, admittedly, is part of his charm—when he’s not pulling stunts like this.

“Alright,” you say, crossing your arms, “let’s get one thing straight. I’m not going to narc you out to your mom since you’re actual grown adults, but you’re coming inside with me right now, and I’m going to help you sober up before we have to go to dinner.”

Jake’s still grinning like an idiot, probably already mentally planning the next bong hit, but you’ve got your sights set on Clayton. He’s trying to look contrite, but the bloodshot eyes are sort of ruining the effect.

“Come on,” you say, reaching out to take his hand, which, by the way, is clammy. Lovely. “I don’t think anyone’s noticed you’ve gone missing yet, but let’s not push our luck.”

Clayton gives you a sheepish smile, the kind that’s got you melting just a little bit. He stands up, wobbling slightly, and you have to resist the urge to laugh. Instead, you squeeze his hand, pulling him toward the door that leads back into the house.

You’re halfway there when Jake chimes in, “You sure you don’t want a hit? It’s good stuff. I mean, if you want to see, like, colors you didn’t know existed...”

You raise an eyebrow. “Colors? Really? I thought you were more of a ‘munchies and conspiracy theories’ kind of guy.”

Jake blinks at you, clearly having to work too hard to process that sentence, and you’re actually kind of proud of yourself. Two points for you, zero for the stoner brothers.

Clayton’s trailing behind you, still holding your hand like it’s a lifeline, and you can feel him trying to gauge your mood. It’s not anger, really—more of a low simmering exasperation. You drag him through the door and into the immaculate kitchen, up the stairs, until you reach the bedroom you’d been sharing.

Clayton finally releases your hand, flopping down onto the bed like a ragdoll. “Babe, you’re the best, you know that?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes like a kid who’s been up past his bedtime. “I mean, seriously, the absolute best.”

You raise an eyebrow, perching on the edge of the bed. “Oh, I know. But that’s not going to save you from having to drink a gallon of water and eating something before we go to dinner with your parents.”

He groans, throwing an arm over his face like he’s in a bad rom-com. “Do we have to? I was kind of hoping we could just... stay here. Forever. In this bed. With no responsibilities.”

You smirk, reaching over to poke his side. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m not sure your mom would appreciate us skipping out on dinner after she called multiple travel agents to find the best restaurant.”

He peeks out from under his arm, giving you a lopsided grin. “Come here,” He urges, obviously still trying to get out of his responsibilities. His voice is teasing, but there’s something genuine in his eyes that makes your heart do a weird little flip.

You take a deep breath, trying to muster the willpower to resist the magnetic pull of that stupidly adorable grin. Clayton’s got this way of looking at you, all soft eyes and boyish charm, like he’s just discovered the best thing in the world, and it happens to be you. It’s the kind of look that could melt the Polar ice caps, and honestly, it’s not fair.

But you’re here for a mission, and that mission is to get this man sober enough to face his family without blowing your cover as the perfect girlfriend who isn’t remotely flustered by her boyfriend’s impromptu stoner session in the garage.

"Nice try," you say, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep your resolve firm, "but you’re not weaseling your way out of this one with cuddles."

“Come on,” Clayton says again, patting the bed beside him. “We’ve got, what? An hour before dinner? We could… relax for a bit.” His voice drops at the word “relax,” and you catch the hint of mischief in his tone.

You narrow your eyes at him, feigning suspicion. “Relax? Are you sure that’s all you want to do?”

He grins, and it’s that boyish, slightly cocky smile that usually precedes him getting his way. “I mean, we could do other things. Fun things. Relaxing, fun things…”

You’re already shaking your head, but you can feel the resolve weakening. It doesn’t help that he’s giving you that look—the one that’s equal parts puppy-dog eyes and shameless seduction. How he manages to pull that off when he still smells like weed with a hint of Febreze is beyond you.

“Clay…” you start, trying to maintain a firm tone, but he’s already moving closer, his hand finding its way to your thigh. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver up your spine, and suddenly, you’re a lot less focused on the whole “responsible girlfriend” thing and more on the fact that, despite his current state, he’s still ridiculously attractive.

“Mm-hmm?” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Oh no. You know where this is going, and while every logical part of you is screaming “this is a bad idea,” the rest of you is pretty much ready to throw logic out the window.

“Clayton,” you try again, but this time it’s softer, less of a protest and more of a gentle reminder that maybe—just maybe—you should both be thinking this through.

He nuzzles his way up your neck, planting kisses as he goes, and when his lips reach that spot just beneath your ear, the one that makes your breath hitch, you know you’re done for.

“Mm-hmm?” he repeats, but this time it’s muffled against your skin, and the way his voice vibrates sends a delightful thrill through your entire body.

“Dinner,” you say weakly, though even to your own ears, it sounds more like a suggestion than a requirement.

“Later,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jaw.

You let out a breathy laugh, your hands instinctively finding their way to his hair, threading through the soft strands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums again, clearly not caring in the slightest. His hands are roaming now, one sliding up your back, the other tracing patterns on your thigh. You feel him gently push you back against the pillows, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes it very hard to remember why you were resisting in the first place.

For a brief moment, you consider pushing him away, reminding him of the inevitable dinner with his parents where, let’s be honest, you’re still trying to score all the points. But then his lips find yours, and all thoughts of social propriety melt away.

His hand slides up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin in that gentle, affectionate way that always makes your heart skip a beat. He pulls back just a fraction, his eyes half-lidded and glassy, but there’s a warmth there—a genuine sweetness that cuts through the haze of weed and turns your resolve to mush.

“You know I’m crazy about you, right?” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough. It’s that tone that gets you every time, the one that makes it clear he’s not just messing around, even if he’s not entirely in his right mind at the moment.

Your heart does that weird flip again, and you find yourself smiling despite everything. “I know,” you whisper back, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

He grins, all boyish charm and mischief, and then his lips are on yours again, more insistent this time. The kiss is slow and languid, like he’s savoring every second, and you can’t help but melt into it. His hands are warm, tracing a path down your sides, and when he pulls you closer, pressing his body against yours, you let out a soft, involuntary sigh.

“Mm, I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he mumbles against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Can’t stop thinking about you.”

You’re lying there, pinned under the warm, slightly too-heavy weight of Clayton’s body, and your mind is racing, trying to catch up with the situation. Clayton’s still high as a kite, and yet here he is, trying to seduce you with that damn lopsided grin of his. You’re supposed to be the responsible one right now, the one who keeps everything on track. The one who doesn’t let her boyfriend’s cannabis-induced haze derail a meticulously planned family dinner. But, as his lips work their way down your neck, you’re beginning to think maybe you’ve lost control of this situation altogether.

“Clayton,” you say, trying to sound firm, but it comes out more like a breathless sigh. His mouth is trailing hot, lazy kisses along your collarbone, and you can feel his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt. It’s distracting, to say the least, and you’re struggling to hold on to any coherent thought that doesn’t involve how good his touch feels.

“Hm?” He hums against your skin, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil you’re experiencing. His hands slide under your shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your bare stomach, sending shivers up your spine. He’s not making this easy, and you know that’s probably the point.

“Dinner,” you manage to say, though it’s a weak attempt at protest. “We’re supposed to be getting ready for dinner.”

“Mm, later,” he mumbles, his lips moving lower, kissing just above the waistband of your shorts. “This is more important.”

You can’t help the small, breathy laugh that escapes you. “Is it now?”

He lifts his head to look at you, and the sight of him—flushed, with slightly mussed hair and glassy eyes that are somehow both earnest and a little mischievous—makes your heart skip a beat. “Definitely,” he says, and there’s something in his voice, a kind of sweet, dopey sincerity, that almost makes you want to give in right then and there.

You chew on your lower lip, trying to stay focused, but it’s hard when his hands are skimming up your sides, pushing your shirt higher. “Clayton, you’re high,” you remind him gently, as if he needs the reminder. “We really should—”

“I know,” he interrupts, and there’s that lopsided grin again, the one that makes your stomach do funny little flips. “But I just... I really fucking want you. And I want to make you feel good.”

You let out a sigh, glancing at the bedroom door as if it’s the gateway to the world of “responsibility” that you’re desperately trying to cling to. But honestly, that door is looking less like an escape route and more like a blockade against the pure, unadulterated temptation that is Clayton, sprawled out on the bed, high as a kite and making it very clear what he wants.

You’re supposed to be the responsible one. The one who keeps her wits about her, who doesn’t let a family vacation turn into a complete disaster because her boyfriend decided to get high with his brother in the garage. And yet…here you are, feeling the weight of Clayton’s gaze on you, his hands warm and insistent as they trace the curve of your hips.

“Clayton,” you try again, but your voice is soft, more an invitation than a protest. You should be telling him to sober up, to get dressed for dinner, to think about the fact that his mom could come knocking on the door at any minute. But instead, you find yourself caught in the way his eyes—glassy as they are—still manage to look at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

He looks up at you with those dazed, love-struck eyes and gives you that adorable lopsided grin. “Again? Baby, you don’t understand. I’ve been dreaming about having you like this all day. I just want to make you feel good. I’m so fucking into you right now. Just let me take care of you. It’s all I want.”

Oh god, his eyes are making your heart race, and every rational thought you had is slipping through your fingers. Here you are, his fingers gently tugging at your shirt, his lips grazing your collarbone in a way that makes you question every life decision you’ve ever made.

He’s literally begging to go down on you. To make you feel good, not giving a shit about himself. You’d laugh if it didn’t sound like the absolute best idea in the world right now.

But still, you hesitate. “Clayton,” you start, and even you’re surprised by how steady your voice sounds. “We really, really shouldn’t…”

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he seems to take your half-hearted protest as encouragement because he’s already kissing a path down your stomach, his fingers expertly unbuttoning your shorts like he’s done it a thousand times before. “I don’t care,” he mutters against your skin, and there’s an edge of desperation in his tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “I just need to taste you. Please, baby, let me.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep a level head, but Clayton’s hands are roaming, his fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with a slow, deliberate movement. You feel the cool air against your skin, and suddenly every nerve in your body is on high alert. He’s not stopping—he’s determined, and you know, deep down, that if you don’t stop him now, you’re going to lose this battle entirely.

But then he looks up at you, his eyes soft and pleading, his lips swollen from the kisses he’s trailed across your body, and you know you’re done for. He’s high, sure, but there’s something in his gaze that’s entirely genuine—a need to make you feel good, to lose himself in the act of worshiping your body.

You swallow hard, your breath catching in your throat as you nod, just once, and it’s all the permission he needs. He grins, and there’s that boyish charm again, the kind that makes your stomach flip in the most ridiculous way.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s tugging your shorts fully down your legs, tossing them aside with zero care about where they land. His hands find your thighs, spreading them apart with a gentle insistence that makes your heart pound in your chest. He’s on a mission, and that mission is apparently you.

You try to brace yourself for what’s coming, but nothing—nothing—could have prepared you for the way Clayton dives in like a man starved. His mouth is hot, wet, and insistent, and the first swipe of his tongue against you has your back arching off the bed. He’s not wasting any time, his mouth moving with a kind of single-minded focus that makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hands flying to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you try to ground yourself. He hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your entire body, and you know you’re in trouble. Big, big trouble.

Clayton’s always been good at this—like, freakishly good—but tonight? Tonight, he’s on a whole other level. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that he’s so damn into it, but whatever it is, it’s working, and you’re rapidly losing any semblance of control.

Your mind is a mess of sensations, each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck driving you closer to the edge. You’re not even sure how long he’s been at it—time has lost all meaning, and all you can focus on is the way he’s making you feel. The heat is building, a coil of pleasure tightening in your core, and you know it won’t be long now.

“Clay,” you pant, your voice shaky and breathless. “Oh god, Clayton, I—”

But he’s not stopping. In fact, he’s doubling down, his mouth working you with an intensity that has you trembling, your thighs quivering around his head as he pulls you closer to the brink. You can feel the pleasure building, a tidal wave that’s about to crash over you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it—not that you’d want to.

And then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he moans against you, taking such obvious pleasure in it that the sound vibrates through your entire body, and that’s it. The coil snaps, and you’re free-falling into pure, unadulterated bliss. You cry out, your fingers tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing through you in a way that leaves you breathless, trembling, and utterly spent.

Clayton doesn’t let up, his mouth working you through your climax with a kind of reverence that makes your heart swell in your chest. He’s not just doing this because he’s high—he’s doing it because he loves it, loves you, and that thought alone is enough to send a fresh wave of warmth flooding through you.

When you finally come down from the high, your body relaxing back into the bed, you realize with a start that Clayton’s still there, still between your legs, nuzzled up to your thigh. He’s breathing hard, his cheeks flushed as if he’s drunk on you along with being stoned, and when he looks up at you, there’s a smug, satisfied grin on his face that makes you want to smack him and kiss him all at once.

You can practically see the gears turning in his head, and despite everything, you can’t help but roll your eyes. The man just gave you the kind of orgasm that makes you question your life choices, and now he’s looking at you like a puppy who’s proud of himself for learning a new trick.

“Clay,” you start, but your voice is weak, more of a croak than the firm reprimand you were aiming for. You should be getting up, throwing on some clothes, and dragging him to dinner with his parents. You should be the responsible one. But you’re not moving. In fact, your legs feel like they’ve turned to jelly, and all you can do is lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember how to function as a human being.

He hums, lazily kissing your inner thigh, clearly not in any hurry to move. You would take him a lot more serious if his lips weren’t glistening, with, well, you. “Yeah, babe?”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. He’s still down there, between your legs, like it’s the most natural place in the world for him to be. And maybe it is, but right now, all you can think about is the fact that you have dinner with his parents in, what, forty-five minutes? An hour, if you’re lucky? And here you are, half-naked on the bed, with your high-as-a-kite boyfriend nuzzling your thigh like it’s the most comfortable pillow he’s ever found.

“We really need to get up,” you say, though even you can hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Mmm, don’t wanna,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. “Wanna stay right here.”

You let out a groan, not entirely sure if it’s from frustration or the lingering pleasure still coursing through your veins. “Clayton, we have to go to dinner.”

He finally lifts his head, looking up at you with those hazy, love-drunk eyes that make your heart do a ridiculous little flip. “But I’m not done,” he says, as if that’s a perfectly valid excuse for skipping a family dinner.

You blink at him, trying to process what he just said. “Not… done?”

He grins, that boyish, slightly cocky smile that usually precedes him getting his way. “I mean, I could do this all night. I really, really like doing this for you. Makes me feel all… I dunno. Good. Happy.” He’s rambling now, his words tumbling out in a way that’s both endearing and a little infuriating. “You taste so fucking good, babe. Seriously. It’s like… fuck. I don’t even have words for it. I just wanna make you feel good. Again. And again. Until you can’t even think straight.”

Oh, you’re definitely not thinking straight. In fact, you’re pretty sure all coherent thought has flown out the window the moment he started talking about how much he likes going down on you. And the worst part? He’s completely sincere. This isn’t just the weed talking—this is Clayton being his ridiculously sweet, overly affectionate self, and it’s making it really, really hard to be the responsible one.

“Clayton,” you say again, trying to muster up some authority, but it comes out more like a plea than anything else. You should be getting up. You should be dragging him to the shower, dousing him with cold water, and forcing him into some semblance of sobriety before facing his parents. But instead, you’re lying there, letting him nuzzle your thigh, his breath warm against your skin, and all you can think about is how good it felt to have him between your legs, how good it would feel to let him do it again.

But you’re supposed to be the responsible one.

“Babe,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “please let me. Just one more time. I promise I’ll be good after. I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. You. How you taste. How you look when you come. God, it’s like… it’s the only thing I want right now.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from moaning at the sheer desperation in his voice. He’s practically begging, and it’s doing things to you—things that are making it very, very difficult to stay focused on the whole “responsible girlfriend” thing.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. “Clay,” you start, but before you can get another word out, he’s already leaning in, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh in a way that makes your toes curl.

“I’m really good at it, right?” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled but still clear enough to make your heart race. “You like it when I do this?”

You want to say something—anything—to stop this before it spirals completely out of control, but all that comes out is a breathy whimper as he trails kisses higher, his tongue darting out to tease you in a way that makes you want to scream.

He grins against your skin, clearly pleased with himself. “Yeah, you like it. I knew it.”

“Clayton, we can’t…” You try again, but it’s a losing battle. Your body is betraying you, every nerve ending screaming for more even as your brain tries to remind you that there’s a dinner reservation looming over your head. But then he’s licking a slow, torturous line up your thigh, and any hope of rational thought flies out the window.

“Just one more time,” he murmurs, his voice soft and coaxing. “Please, babe. I just… I need it. I need you. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

And that’s it. Your resolve crumbles, and you find yourself nodding, even as your brain tries to scream at you that this is a terrible idea. But right now, with Clayton looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, you can’t bring yourself to care. This man is thorough, methodical, and once he sets his mind to something, he’s like a dog with a bone—or, in this case, like a stoned hockey player with a serious oral fixation.

“Okay,” you whisper, and the word is barely out of your mouth before he’s diving back in, his mouth hot and insistent as he picks up right where he left off. You’re gasping, your hands flying to his hair as you arch into him, all thoughts of dinner, responsibilities, and anything outside of this room fading into oblivion.

And as he works you over with a kind of focused intensity that leaves you breathless, you can’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—being the responsible one is overrated. At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself as he sends you spiraling into another earth-shattering climax, your mind going blissfully blank as you lose yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

So much for being responsible. But honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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sehodreams · 9 months

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Plus size idol has a bad attitude and a chip on her shoulder because she made it in an industry where the odds are against her. She’s the kind of idol who proudly thinks “I got on this stage because of talent, not because of daddy’s money (Anton), plastic surgery (Wonbin), or steroids (Sungchan)”

Dark please.

Hi, sorry for taking so long, I had to change my phone that suddenly DIED and then I wrote one but didn't like it, I hope this one is a bit better, I struggled a bit with my words idk why, but I hope you like it!

BITCH

TW and tags: foursome, dark!idol!Anton, dark!idol!Sungchan and dark!idol!Wonbin x idol!plus size!reader, a bit of cum eating, cum play, no p in v, oral sex (f and m receiving), noncon, a touch of choking (like always), munch!Anton, god Idk what else please if you don't like dark content don't read.

WC: 4.9k sorry again

They didn't know how to describe their relationship with you, you were just... Such a bitch.

They tried to be on your good side, knowing how much influence you had on the industry.

You were an excellent artist, a good writer and singer, even a good actor, but God, they hated you so much.

They didn't believe the others when they told them to be careful with you, how could you ever do something wrong to them? You had those cute cheeks and that sweet smile on cameras, you treated your staff good and even directors loved you, so punctual and organized, always doing your best.

But with them, you would critic every little mistake they did.

First you had to share a waiting room out of the blue, theirs had a problem with the plugs and they needed to get their hair done, so they went to yours. You smiled when their manager talked to you, "oh don't worry, it's always a pleasure for me to be helpful!" Their manager got charmed by you instantly, thanking you many times before they could go in.

It was a chaotic day, having to get ready even faster than normal, everyone walking around and moving things, when suddenly they heard a crash.

Everyone looked at it, Wonbin had pushed a flower pot by accident and it got all your fan letters wet. You looked at it surprised, not knowing what to say, and Wonbin's ears got red instantly, embarrassed to the core. He bowed many times, apologizing, and you stopped him with your hand. "Accidents happen" you smiled.

All of them got up their seats and apologized at the same time. Their manager ran to ask for a hairdryer to one stylist that had gone out.

When you and the boys were alone, in silence, you spoke again. "Fucking rookies" you spat. All of them looked at you surprised by your tone. Your whole face had changed, your sweet camera smile nowhere to be found.

"We're really sorry" Shotaro, as the eldest, apologized again.

"Shut up, I don't want to heard any of you anymore, I'm tired of all your obnoxious voices" you were sitting in front of them. All of them standing with their heads down. "Do you think I'm a joke? Why did you think you could all run around as if it was your playground?"

They could feel the heat coming out of you, your voice making them feel small, tiny, as if they were nothing.

Their manager came back and started to dry the letters, you smiled and told him to not mind, they were just paper, they'd get dry on their own. "She's such a good person" the manager said later, hopeful eyes filled with emotion, touched by your kindness. They didn't dare to say what happened, just nodding.

Their second meeting was even worse. Anton's father was in the same show with you and they saw you on TV talking with him. "Please take care of him when you see him" he smiled, the exact same eyes that their maknae had. You replied immediately "oh please don't worry, I've met him already, he's such a sweet and respectful boy, I can see how much effort you've put into making him a great person" it had to be an accident what happened last time, you talked so good about one of their members on tv, caring and soft words were the only things that came out of you, maybe it was just a bad day, they thought.

When they met you in another program they knocked your door, everyone with their best smiles and a bouquet to apologize for what happened last time. One member of your staff opened the door, they could see you inside wearing a pretty pink gown, getting your hair done to the presentation in a couple of hours.

You lifted your eyes from your phone and looked to them. "Can you leave us alone a second?" You asked your staff, all of them left, leaving you alone. Maybe you would apologize to them too, right? "What did I tell you last time? I can see you're all stupid enough to come and bother me again" your glossy lips said smoothly, as if you were singing. They couldn't help but look at you, pink robe showing your legs, your hair up, neck naked, and your honey lips moving, spitting harsh words like a praise. "I guess you have no idea how to respect your seniors, you're lucky I'm a good one, but don't ever come here unannounced again, and this is my last warning, the next time I'll fucking kill you"

They left the flowers and went back to their room. No one said anything, but they all thought the same thing, "bitch".

When the show finished and they were leaving they saw some cleaning ladies pushing trash carts, their flowers showing on top of one, over a bunch of plastic bottles and makeup wipes.

At least they agreed on one thing, to never bother you again. However, what they didn't expect was the collaboration the company arranged with a couple of singers, you being one of them.

You'd be on one of their tracks that you'd write and produce.

Anton, Sungchan and Wonbin were the choosen ones, the others exhaled, feeling grateful to not being paired with you, and feeling sorry for the boys that would work with you.

They talked a lot about it, how would they behave in front of you, not talking unless they were asked to, not contradicting you and not even maintaining eye contact with you for too long, anything to work in peace and finish the job as fast as possible.

They couldn't deny how good of an artist you were, all your songs hits and your fandom making noise every time you arrived to shows.

It was unusual for a girl like you to be an idol, a big girl, your face was quite slim, but your thick legs and full chest always caught attention. Still, you were loved by many and they respected that.

And they liked it too.

"Hi boys, is such a pleasure to work with you, I hope we get a hit!" You laughed and raised your hand, cheering for them. Their manager smiled, wiped for you, while they smiled shyly, afraid of shifting the energy in the room if they weren't careful.

You all went to the recording room, alone there, you sat on the only chair, claiming your position, and they had to sit on the little couch behind you. You showed them your notes and told them your ideas for the song, a love song like usual. They nodded and agreed to everything you said.

If you said the sky was green and the grass blue, they would go along with you.

"I thought you were stupid only in front of me, but it seems you're like that all the time" you said after half an hour being together. They couldn't nod this time. "You're so useless, I don't know why would they make me work with you, some fucking rookies" you walked to grab your bag and pulled a box of cigarettes, everyone focus on your figure walking, appreciating your bubbly ass that showed through your yoga leggings and oversized t-shirt that tried to covered it but rolled over it. Then, when they saw you put the cigarette between your lips and search for a lighter, they looked at each other. It was prohibited to smoke there, but how could they defy you? "I'm sick of everyone disrespecting me, I got here after so much, you have no idea what I've been through to get here" you laughed sourly, "well, of course you don't know about it, I got here because of talent, not because of daddy’s money, plastic surgery, or steroids" the room started to get hot, their faces couldn't hide the irritation anymore, they perfectly knew who were you referring with your words but preferred to stay silent, biting their own tongue "and yet I feel like they continue laughing at me, making me their favorite joke" you slowly exhaled the smoke, not directing your eyes to them, as if you were talking to yourself.

They were exhausted, exhausted of you insulting them, critiquing them for everything, and doing their best to not snap.

"You really have no shame" Wonbin broke the silence after a long minute. "Talking like that, acting like big shit, and I guess that's why everybody laughs at you, trying to act big when you're just a fat bitch" he stood up and walked to you, the other two looked at him alarmed, shocked by the outburst. You, sitting, crossed your legs and exhaled a long line of smoke, maintaining eye contact with the talking boy, with a blank expression.

He smirked, seeing you sitting down there you were only a common girl, without no one on your side, and he felt like he could do anything to you. You felt that, you saw it on his face, you could recognize that expression anywhere, conceited, power hungry, resented. Then, he suddenly felt his hand burning, quickly moving it away. The other two jumped and walked to him, checking the mark your cigarette had left on his pale hand.

"What is wrong with you?!" Anton asked, shocked with your impulse. "You hurt him!"

Sungchan grabbed a cold water bottle from the mini fridge and pressed it against the burn spot. When he moved it away Wonbin checked his hand better, there was a small red spot getting darker because of the ash. He inspected it for a long time, too astonished, then after not much thinking he walked to the door and pressed the secure. The other two followed him with their eyes, holding their breath, waiting for what was gonna happen next.

You didn't waver, set on not appearing weak in front of those three rookies.

"I think you forgot something" he talked, hand on the door handle "You, at the end of the day, are just one girl, and we'll always be stronger than you" he turned his face to you, ears red again, but not from embarrassment this time, from rage.

You, in that exact moment, knew you'd get hurt too.

You gave him a sided smile, "do whatever you want, I'll fucking end your careers after I get out of here"

You saw the younger one put himself between Wonbin and you, as a wall, protecting you. "Hyung, let's talk about this, don't do anything careless" he tried to stop him, the other gave you a glance and then moved his attention to the taller one. "We can get on serious problems"

"We're already on serious problems, it doesn't matter what we do now, she's gonna talk around, we can say goodbye to any deal now" Sungchan, who remained on one side, finally talked.

"You too? What the hell are you thinking?" Anton didn't know what to do, he was displeased too, but going so far hadn't crossed his mind.

"I think this bitch needs a lesson, if we don't give it to her now, she's gonna continue acting like this with others" he grabbed Anton's shoulders and made him turn to you, you were still on your place, frowning, not having were to go, expecting the younger one to help you escape, but when Wonbin whispered to his ear, you knew it was over "look at her, she's not regretful at all, and if we don't do it now, someone else is gonna do it later"

Anton agreed with that, someone was gonna teach you a lesson at some point, and it better be them, right?

When Anton's eyes wandered around your body, hips and thighs bigger on that chair, chest so full it was slightly spilling over your bra, he decided this was a job they had to do.

The job he wanted to do.

Sungchan saw the conviction on Anton's eyes, and when his lips slightly parted, the two older boys smiled. "You can have the first taste" Wonbin pushed him closer to you.

A chill ran down your legs, "move, now" you stood up and ordered the younger one. The three of them were in front of you, all of them taller, you had to lift your head to look at them in the eyes, you had never felt so small in your life. When they saw you there, cornered, eyes up and hands shaking, with the same fucking bossy expression, as if you had any power there, they snickered.

Wonbin nodded to Sungchan, who instantly understood what the other wanted. The two of them caught your arms and made you sit on your chair again. Anton was in front of you, still doubting, not knowing what to do.

"Stop right now! Let me go!" You demanded and squirmed, trying to get yourself free.

"Don't move so much, it's gonna happen you want it or not, no one is gonna help you, there are no cameras here to not leak content, and the whole room is soundproof" you felt yourself get weaker with Wonbin's words, your lips started to quiver and your eyes tried to soften the youngest so he could help you. You looked at him with your most helpless eyes, pleading for help. He sighed, and you saw his face change, desire starting to show on it.

"Come on, you need to pacify her now, if you don't she'll be all feisty later" Sungchan laughed. Wonbin knew he'd need a little help, so he lifted your t-shirt and pulled down your bra, your full tits bounced with the rough movement and the maknae's eyes couldn't leave you, tongue wetting his lips. You were about to scream when Wonbin made you bite your shirt to maintain it up, and then he covered your mouth so you wouldn't spit it. Sungchan decided to move to the back of the chair, grabbing both your arms with one hand.

Your full chest was there, in front of their eyes. Your tits were perfect for all of them, so big and full, your nipples were bigger than what they had ever seen, but they still liked them, all round and calling for them to get a taste.

Sadly, the two older ones needed the youngest to be on board, so he'd have the privilege of the first taste.

Anton kneeled in front of you, his big hands went first to your waist, to see how much he could hold, and then they started to roam up, holding the weight of your tits with his hands before he gave you a look. You didn't move, your eyes were getting a bit wet, but you tried to keep an stoic aspect, strong as always. He didn't waste any more time and gave them a good lick, moaning to himself. They felt so good on his tongue his eyebrows frown. They were soft, easy to handle, and he had to enjoy it as much as he could.

He kept licking them, his tongue playing with one of your nipples while one of his hands molded the other, pinching your little bud every now and then. He played with both of them like that for a good time, making you feel more and more wet with time, you still felt bad, kind of sick of the way he seemed to enjoy it so much, making eye contact until you couldn't and decided to lift your gaze.

Big error, you saw the expression on the visual boy, smiling, proud of his member working you so well, and felt worse.

You shook your head and tried to kick him to get away, but the young boy was so strong he pushed his weight into your thighs so you didn't interrupt his activity.

"Come on, do something else, we don't have all day" Sungchan talked behind you. Anton found the strength he needed to pull apart from your tits and touched your thighs, watching you with a drunk expression. Your nipples were hard, glistening with his saliva, begging to receive more attention, but he couldn't monopolize you.

"Pull down her pants" Anton, after Wonbin ordered him, started to pull down your pants and your panties, slowly, trying to see as much of you as he could to remember it later. Your soft and thick thighs showed a couple of marks because of their size, but he followed the way they pushed against the velvet seat and thought how good they would feel around his face.

And your pussy, god, so plump and wet, he made you open your legs, lifting one over the chair arm, and saw your sweet pussy shine, like honey pouring down, he thought, wanting to taste you.

"Can I..." Anton mumbled.

"Do it" Wonbin encouraged him. Anton didn't need more, he opened your lips with his fingers and saw how precious you looked down there, then he pressed his flat tongue onto your clit, eyes closed and almost rolling of how good you tasted.

He slurped, the wet sounds echoing in the room made everything more dirty and the two other boys felt their tips tingle, dying for their turn.

"Shit, she's dripping" Sungchan said, the sound of your pussy was so dirty his head started to get numb, and when you let your head fell because of the stimulation, looking up and catching each others eyes, he couldn't resist it and with his free hand squeezed your tit. He wanted to kiss you, push his tongue into your mouth, but you were still biting your shirt. You squirmed, overstimulated with his little touches over your sensitive nipples and the other boy eating the life out of you.

"Are you gonna be a good girl now?" Wonbin asked on your side, you moved your eyes to him and nodded, not being able to talk because of the shirt he made you bit. "Good" he let your mouth free and stripped your t-shirt off.

You felt the cold air touch your naked body and slightly shivered.

You screamed, a clear and loud "Fuck you". Wonbin slapped you, shaking your whole body. You stayed there, mute, feeling your cheek sting, and decided to just stay silent from that moment on. You couldn't afford to get hurt, you had job to do later, and tomorrow, and the next day. The boy slurping your juices hadn't even noticed the other hurt you, too concentrated on his dessert.

"Can I kiss her now?" Sungchan asked, polite and eager, after seeing you cry in silence, but calm. Wonbin nodded and Sungchan grabbed your chin to make your head fall again and kiss you, softly at first, then deeper. Your tongue felt like velvet against his, soft and wet, smooth, like the seat you were dripping on. He couldn't contain himself anymore, he stopped kissing you and pulled down his zipper and his underwear, just enough for his dick to bounce in front of your face, moving his hand up and down his member. Your lipgloss was smudged around your mouth and you looked up to him with dull eyes, death, and distracted with the boy between your legs, trying to contain the sounds that wanted to escape, you couldn't let them know how much stimulated you were.

You were so close, your hole started to beg for something to fill it, but of course you'd never say it. You're eyes were unfocused and, after a couple of minutes containing them, pretty moans started to leave your lips. "Wait, wait, please" you begged, with your singing voice, it sounded like an echo, music to their ears.

You didn't want to cum, you couldn't get more humiliated, not more.

"Move" Wonbin pushed Anton's head away of you. You sighed, glad the boy helped you resist. You were wrong, he pushed Anton to occupy that spot, eating you even harder, with his thumb poking your entrance.

"That's not fair, I wanted her to cum on my mouth" Anton protested and tried to push the older boy "I deserve her orgasm"

"Shut up, you were about to cum faster than her" Sungchan laughed, still jerking off in front of your face. The image of your dumb face and open lips making those sounds was enough to drive him crazy.

"Hyung please let me, I'll let you put your dick first, I swear" Anton pleaded. Wonbin didn't want to, but he had a soft spot for the youngest, so he moved away and let him finish you. Your hands were free now, hanging yourself on your seat, trying to calm yourself, but when the boy pushed his face onto your entrance you had to grab something else, so you grabbed his hair, hard, wanting to hurt him as much as they hurt you.

It had the opposite effect. Your pussy dripping, with your hands pulling his hair, made him insane. He rubbed his dick against your free leg, and when your hands painfully pulled his hair with force and your pussy spammed around Wonbin's fingers, he came. While he was cumming he didn't stop slurping, drinking your orgasm like a thirsty man.

Sungchan moved his dick to your lips, touching it with the tip. You were still drunk on the feeling, trying to recollect yourself, when Sungchan decided it was a good idea to cum on your face. His cum fell onto your lips, and he moved it around your mouth, smearing it over the rest of your lipgloss.

"You have two options, what do you want to do, do you want me to fuck your pussy or to fuck your mouth?" Wonbin said putting his hand around your neck, making you look at him in the eyes. Sungchan had decided to sit on the couch to recover, and Anton on the floor, next to you and caressing your thigh, also trying to catch his breath, but focusing more in his fingers drawing on your skin.

You didn't want to choose, the cum on your mouth tasted like shit and your legs hurt, you only wanted it to end and go home, but you could see in the eyes of the boys that they wanted a lot more of you.

Tears started to flow out of your eyes, one by one, falling down your eyes, which made Wonbin smile more, giving you a peck on the lips Sungchan had dirtied with his orgasm.

"I want to go, please, I'm tired" you cried. Anton's hand got tighter on your leg and Wonbin's hand too, around your throat. You wanted to cough, not being able to breath.

"She's been good, I think she deserves a kiss and to go home" Anton said with a sweet tone, low.

"Well, I think she deserves one more orgasm" Sungchan smiled at you, proud of his work.

"You both say that because you got to cum, but what about me?" Wonbin was defensive, his hand kept squeezen your throat and your eyes burned.

"Then you can use her mouth, but not her hole, if one fuckes her, everyone fucks her, deal?" Sungchan said with authority. Wonbin scoffed at the sudden lider.

"You've heard him, you have no option now" Wonbin was quickly to pull down his underwear, the time was running out and they had an schedule after their session with you. What would happen next? They didn't care. They knew, when they saw the fear in your eyes, that you'd never talk about this. Three rookies fucking you? Who would believe you? Were you trying to brag around that you fucked those gorgeous men?

His grip around your neck got loose. You coughed and he let you catch your breath. He knew you'd need that air when he was fucking your mouth, because he was going to fuck it properly, like a bitch like you deserved.

He made you kneel in front of him, grabbing your arm and pushing you to the floor. It hurt your knees, you made a painful noise and Anton side-eyed him, not liking how he treated you. "Don't do that again, those are not the kind of marks we should leave on her" Anton, on your side, held your hair with care and moved it out of your face so you could be more comfortable.

"Why do you care so much how we treat her?" Sungchan bluffed.

"She's mine too, and I like to take care of my things" he cleaned your tears with his thumbs, caressing your chin and giving you a look full of love. He smiled at you, not showing his teeth, but sweet enough to make you warm.

And you hated that.

"Anton-ah, help me, please" you sobbed. He nodded.

"Of course honey, one more orgasm, right?" He answered, making you cry harder.

"Now say ahh" Wonbin grabbed your hair and made you sit back in your knees. You had to hold yourself with one hand behind you, your tummy and thick thighs completely showing. You were almost completely naked, only your usual expensive jewelry on your neck and wrist.

Those golden jewels look so good on you, all naked and glowing. Your face was sweaty and had cum around your mouth, filthy, contrasting with your gold necklace with a little heart around your throat.

Wonbin licked his lips and pushed the tip of his cock in front of you. You had no option than to leave a little kiss on it, closing your eyes to not look at him.

He had a pretty cock, pink with a red tip, as if even it was angry and trying to break you. You licked it as much as you could, covering the left part of it with your pretty hand with the bracelet tingling.

Anton held your hair to help you, and when he moved his eyes down your chest to your thighs he couldn't help but pay attention to your pretty tummy, a little pouch over your chubby and pretty pussy. His free hand started to touch your clit, gently at first, but then, second by second, he started to want more, and at some point, when Wonbin pushed your mouth over his whole dick, tired of your lame work, he pushed two fingers inside you, distracting you. "You're doing such a good job" he praised you.

Sungchan got enough, he situated behind you again, pushing his cock to your lower back and kissing your cheek and pinching both nipples between his fingers. "Cum one more time, just one more" he begged.

It was too much, you wanted to cream but your mouth was busy with Wonbin's cock. Your eyes cried and cried, and muffled sounds stayed on your mouth.

After minutes that seemed to never end, when Wonbin was about to cum, he pushed your head out of his cock, jerking in front of you. You couldn't think, shaking with Anton's fingers inside you and the tension forming in your stomach.

"Stop!" You tried to remove his fingers out of you, feeling something close. A strong orgasm, the strongest you've ever had on your life.

Sungchan, still rubbing his dick with your back, left your tits alone and grabbed your waist, making you fuck yourself against Anton's fingers.

You yelled after a minute, coming hard as never. A liquid poured over Anton's hand and leaked to the floor wood, making a little pod. At the same time Sungchan came over your back, and Wonbin over your beautiful chest, with white drops falling all around, one drop over your heart necklace.

You shook and fell onto Sungchan's arms. He held you, giving you a soft kiss on your temple. "Good girl" he appreciated.

You closed your eyes, about to pass out, trying to breath normally again, but opened them again after you felt a sting on your chest, almost near your collarbone, hissing of pain. "This is a gift, so you never forget what happens if you don't behave" Wonbin kissed your cheek. He had burned you with a different cigarette, one he had just smoked.

Anton pushed his hand away. "I told you to not hurt her" he was mad with Wonbin's action, hugging your side and giving you a kiss on your other cheek to comfort you.

You cried and hugged the youngest, big and warm, comforting you like a little girl.

Anton and Sungchan helped you to get dressed. Your thighs were a mess and they were looking for something to help you get clean when they heard knocking over the door.

The three of them looked at each other alarmed, it was impossible to hide you or the mess they had done.

Wonbin decided to give face and make the people on the other side of the door leave. He opened it, trusting the other two to cover you.

Eunseok was there, looking a bit tired. "We have to go, manager says that..." He looked inside the room. It was impossible to not understand what happened, the smell of sex and orgasms was too strong, and the boys were glowing, clearly satisfied.

You stood up and ran to the door, not leaving time enough for the bigger boys to hide you. "Get me out of here, now!" You demanded. You weren't wearing pants and he could see how fucked you were, hair dirty and smelly, face smeared of gloss and what he recognized as semen.

"What the- what have you done?!" He was terrified, holding your hands inside his. You threw yourself into his arms, shaking, "Really guys? Without me?"

All the boys in the room smiled with the cry that came out of you.

Such a bitch, they thought.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #dark!riize #dark!wonbin #riize smut #dark riize #dark!anton #dark!sungchan #PLEASE READ TW

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sunspearesque · 7 months

Text

‘Tis You, My Great Love

Summary: I've been betrothed to fear since the mists of memory, “the bride of despair,” they named me. And there, by the shore, you found me… sorrow veiling my face, and wounds blooming like tulips in my hands. But lo, you, my great love, now stand, lifting the veil and bidding my fears depart with each tender kiss. “Stay,” I say, “stay for all eternity.”

A/N: hello hello beautiful friends!!! i wrote this piece while feeling extremely sentimental and sappy after a conversation about motherhood with my best friend.. i was contemplating motherhood, marriage, and intimacy in general, but then tried to imagine how that would translate to Nala's and Oberyn's relationship.. so, this fic is mainly fluff with a sprinkle of smut :3 and lots of poetic dreams… hope you enjoy it! <3

Pairing: Oberyn Martell × OFC from WoV

Rating: E (18+ only)

Content: established relationship (marriage); talks of motherhood; fear of loss and abandonment; fear of motherhood; talks of dreams; pregnancy; childbirth; fluff on steroids with a sprinkle of smut; dad!oberyn (my favorite oberyn to write); brief p in v sex; oral (m!receiving); breeding kink

WC: 2.6K

Read on AO3 • moodboard

“Love me so strongly that the echoes come to me here, at night, in the hours of insomnia, where I am waiting for you. I kiss you, I kiss you madly.” — Albert Camus to Maria Casares, Correspondence, January 9, 1950

His breath, slow and warm, caressed her neck as he nestled closer. His arms, like bands of fire, encircled her soft belly. With a grip as tight as the grasp of a man fearing the loss of paradise slipping through his fingers, he held her close, as if she might vanish like the elusive dream of Eden he chased in his sleep. Just when he thought he could taste its waters, they turned to fire, scorching his throat and consuming him in flames, jolting him awake from his slumber. Yet now, she mused, he sleeps peacefully.

She traced her finger over the scar adorning his shoulder, much like the marks she bore on her own body from bearing their son—for when love leaves its mark upon us, not even the shadow of fear can erase it.

Her fingers deftly threaded through his raven locks, prompting a soft hum from him as she pressed a tender kiss upon his brow. Never before had she known such serenity, as sleep gently stole her away in his arms.

—

The sun, basking in its warm and inviting glow, reached its luminous tendrils into the chambers of their castle. The soft sounds of nature at dawn whispered promises of new beginnings. These beginnings ushered in healing and prosperity to souls who had yearned for the clasp of death for so long, forgetting how to revel in life's joys and surrender to its tender embrace.

Life in Dorne, akin to a nurturing mother, a goddess, a woman… the dunes of sand beneath their calloused feet, and the blazing sun in the sky, stood as an impregnable fortress of strength akin to Nymeria, their burning star. She was the mother of both land and people, her warmth forging indomitable resolve within her children. She is the sun—their sun blazing fiercely, instilling in them an unyielding grit against any rival, yet within their hearts lay a gentle warmth that embraced love as steadfastly as a sacred oath.

And like the sun and the earth and Nymeria, Nala harbored the urges of motherhood within her, which was a concept that she held in reverence, yet it also stirred a deep sense of dread within her. She longed for the life burgeoning deep inside of her, for a part of herself to wander this realm and embrace life under her vigilant care and unwavering devotion. However, she couldn't shake the haunting memory of how motherhood had claimed her own mother's life, how she harbored guilt for the tragic fate her mother endured.

If only I hadn't been, she might have fled the castle and escaped her dire end...

This lingering wound within her soul was the sole reason she had shunned the idea of bearing children until she met him.

He, adorned in all his splendor, tended to her wounded soul the very instant he professed his love to her, at a time when he himself was most in need of solace. This bastion of a man, generous, gracious, and gallant, freely bestowed his love, protection, and tenderness, even amidst the shadows of his wrath and vengeance.

For you, my great love, I ache with an unbearable keenness, feeling the wounds within me slowly mend, sewn shut with the thread of your love—a needle of devotion stitching together my injured being. Though painful, it is an insatiable need, a piercing sting I have yearned for throughout the passing years. It closes the chasm within me, that gaping void where the winds of despair and sorrow once freely roamed, leaving me as naught but a specter, undeserving of love, joy, or autonomy.

Your love, my great love, is what ignited within me a hunger for life after an endless fast of fear—fear of loss and abandonment. Your love bestowed upon me the strength to embrace love once more, despite the inevitable sacrifices. Did you know that you visited me in my dreams? You kissed me with such tenderness and held me close. “I was adrift,” I told you, my voice laden with fear, “take me..” I whispered, “Take me with you.”

When she pledged herself to him in marriage, she knew she needed to fear no one beneath the gaze of Gods and men. With him by her side, no rivals could breach her defenses; even in death, his spirit would haunt any who dared to harm her through all Seven Hells and beyond.

You told me once, do you recall? As we strolled the shores, my steps were heavy with dread or joy, or perhaps it was the dread of the joy that awaited me. I struggle to remember the last time genuine happiness graced my soul before that day. When the sweet taste of happiness touched my sorrow-laden lips, I froze in place, wary that this cruel existence might snatch it away, as it so often does.

You whispered to me, my great love, your love with such fervor, you told me how it frightened you, unable to resist the pull of our inevitable fate. “How could I?” you pondered, “You are inescapable.” You told me that sorrow is the price of love; to shun one is to forsake the other. Yet, you vowed not to evade me, you kissed me and swore to me that you would not allow my love to elude your grasp.

You told me how I melt into your dreams, whisking you away in my embrace mere seconds before the phantom hands could encircle your throat. Those same hands, which once tormented you each night, wrenching you from slumber, now find themselves impotent against your newfound peace. You impute to me your salvation, though I doubted my own. You rekindled a dormant tenderness within me, long thought doused by the harshness of life. ‘tis you, my great love, who rescued me… It was not I who saved you, but you who saved me.

She recalled a day they spent amidst the Water Gardens, a few moons past:

Reclining upon the grass, the soothing melody of a nearby water fountain lulled her into a serene state of repose. The laughter of Dorea and Loreza filled her ears, joyfully engaged in play with their father. Nala shut her eyes, savoring this heartening moment with those she holds most dear.

“W–Wait, papa, wait,” Dorea uttered between pants, attempting to conceal her sweet giggles. “I heard Arianne say that you engage in battles,” she inquired, her small hand resting on her waist as she sought to extract the truth from him.

“Yes, I do,” Oberyn replied, seated on the grass, attempting to catch his breath after chasing them all morning. “Why would Arianne tell you that?” He narrowed his eyes at his daughter, intrigued by the smirk that widened before Loreza jumped on his back, encircling his neck and hanging from it, ambushing him. “Papa, fight!”

Nala opened her eyes to witness the victorious father, besieged by little hands and tiny feet, playfully striking his stomach and chest, surrounded by laughter that compelled him to yield, lying flat on his back.

Dorea brandished a stick of wood, pointing it at his face, and murmured, “Surrender!” with a broad, toothy grin. Loreza, seizing the opportunity, delivered a playful punch to his soft middle. “I surrender, my lady, I surrender!” he exclaimed with feigned fear and defeat, eliciting more giggles from Loreza. “Have mercy on this old man, my lady, please!” he continued, jesting while maintaining his scared demeanor.

“Loreza,” Dorea commanded with a stern expression, feigning seriousness, “this soldier will join our army,” attempting a deep, authoritative voice. At that moment, Oberyn stealthily swept them both from their feet and hoisted them onto his shoulders, prompting a chorus of screams and laughter. “You shall never trust your enemy, girls,” he declared, his voice playfully admonishing.

Her faith in his paternal prowess never wavered, evidenced by his eight resilient daughters. He showered them with love and fierceness to such an extent that Nala's own heart ached with longing to bear his child—a primal yearning that twisted within her.

Each time he lay with her, she offered fervent prayers to the Gods, beseeching them, “Grant this union fruitfulness, let it take, let life flourish abundantly within me.”

When the soft stirrings of life within her ignited a radiant glow from deep within, his love grew even more tender, gentle, and expansive; even greater than the swell of her stomach. She marveled at the dichotomy of this fierce and dreaded man seeping such tenderness. How could hands, once stained with the blood of his foes and weathered by battle, now caress her with such delicate care, as if she were the most delicate of petals?

“Tell me,” he panted as he thrust into her, “Tell me how much you love me, Nala.”

“I do,” she said, her words strained with pleasure, melding into a moan, “I do, my viper, I adore you.”

As she entered the throes of labor, he sat steadfastly behind her, his legs parted to rest on her sides supporting her back against his chest, his words of praise gently murmured into her ear. Amidst his curses at the Gods, he avidly wished to shoulder her pain, to bear it in her stead.

When they were greeted by the piercing cries of the fruit of their love—a child, glorious and perfect in every way, red and squealing, a reflection of his father in demeanor, soul, and visage—she cradled him in her arms, while Oberyn enveloped them both in his protective embrace.

Their eyes locked upon the tiny, fragile form before them, and as a rare tear escaped his forbearing facade, she reached out to brush it from his cheek. With a tender whisper, she said, “Look, my love, he bears your likeness.”

She reclined upon her side, nursing their son at her breast, nestled between herself and Oberyn. His gaze lingered upon the tender scene, his eyes laden with unspoken emotions that he dared not voice, lest tears betray him.

Do you remember, my great love? Do you remember how the fear wilted, its head bowed in shame? The fear that once gripped me, releasing my hand as it gazed upon you with eyes filled with dread.

“Fret not,” you whispered to me while I sat in sorrow by your side. Though you lay in a deep slumber for days, your voice broke through the darkness just when I feared I might never hear it again. When all semblance of peace metamorphosed into a looming specter, jeering at me, taunting my joy and desperation. “Oh, you naive child,” it sneered with a voice steeped in bitterness. “I am no child,” I retorted, yet I felt the weight of my old fears returning. “You never learn,” it spat, before your voice shielded me from impending despair. You whispered, “Fret not,” and I believed you, my great love, as I always do.

And now look... Look at him... How can one lay bare their heart to the world, a heart with little hands and tiny feet, and not fret?

—

Gently opening her eyes, she sensed the chill of the empty space beside her—a void she cursed and despised. Rising slowly from her slumber, she beheld him: bare-chested, glorious, as beautiful as a man can be, cradling their son in his arms.

Their embrace enveloped them in warmth, their skins melding as one, while the soft cooing of their child resonated faintly in the chamber's silence. Amidst the peaceful atmosphere, punctuated only by the hushed footsteps of her husband and the tender sounds of their boy, her heart pounded within her chest like a Sand Steed galloping across the Dornish plains, threatening to burst forth. The love she felt surged within her, surpassing all expectations, growing fiercer, more profound—unbearable. It was a love that dissolved her fears like the northern snows beneath the scorching sun.

In the treasured instants shared with his children, Oberyn found solace in moments where the chaos of the world faded into oblivion. Each time they gathered around him, their youthful spirits ignited a spark of joy within him, particularly in those tender early years when they sought refuge in their father's arms. Yet, amidst this warmth, a pang of sorrow lingered as he gazed upon his son, his thoughts drifting to memories of his nephew Aegon, the son of his sweet sister Elia.

He couldn't help but imagine how Aegon might have flourished had fate been kinder to him or his sister or their mother. A gentle touch from Nala drew him back from his sorrowful reverie, and as he turned to meet her tender smile, he leaned in to press a soft kiss upon her lips, mindful not to disturb the slumbering child cradled in his embrace.

“Why did you not awaken me, my love?” Nala murmured, her gaze tenderly fixed upon their son.

“I wished for you to rest,” he replied softly, his eyes warm as they met hers, before he moved to lay their child gently in his crib, nestling him into the plush bedding.

Returning to their bed, he settled himself against the sturdy wooden frame, patting the mattress beside him, inviting her to join him. She approached, crawling between his legs, prompting a raised brow and a smirk from him. “And what might you be doing?” he inquired.

“I long to savor you,” she declared simply, positioned between his spread legs and deftly undoing his breeches.

“And your wounds, my love?” he gently reminded her. “You are not fully healed yet.”

“This will be my remedy,” she replied, her voice hoarse and tinged with sleep and yearning, almost on the edge of a whine.

She felt his cock swell and throb in her grasp, searing and already slick with desire. With gentle strokes of her hand, she evoked muffled groans from him, meeting his gaze as she whispered, “I love you beyond reckoning…”

Lowering her head to his glistening tip, she teased the slit with tiny licks, relishing every drop of his precum. His head fell back, a deep moan escaping his lips before she buried him in her mouth.

She swallowed him deeper and deeper until he was fully sheathed within her throat, his leg jerked beside her as she moved him in and out of her wet and wanting mouth. A low hum accompanied her fervent ministrations, her hand tenderly caressing his soft belly, a part of him she had adored over the years.

Pulling him from her drooling mouth to catch her breath, she panted between words, “If not for my wounds, I would not have wasted your seed anywhere but deep within my cunt,” she licked his sensitive tip, and he whimpered quietly, “taking me day and night… today and tomorrow and the day after, and spilling your seed within me over and over ‘til it takes,” she confessed before taking him again, squeezing him within her tight throat, his primal groans filling the air and filling her with an immense sense of pride at her actions.

She swallowed around him once, then twice, until she felt his warm, salty cum spurt into her eager throat, eliciting a guttural growl from him as he filled her up and came down from his climax. She withdrew his softened cock from her mouth, gathering the seeping cum from the corners of her lips before eagerly sucking her digit clean. Crawling up to lie atop him, she rested her head upon his heaving chest, pressing kisses to his golden skin. He enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly, yearning to merge with her until they became one.

You, my great love, ‘tis you who will always reign until the end of times, in every lifetime, in every plane of existence.

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