#shower/tub sex

[powerful-niya]

— (υиωιи∂.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

Link to Oneshot below ↴

•Wattpad• •AO3•

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡Every exceptional mother deserves to unwind with a candlelit bath, indulge in lavish amenities, and possibly even experience a huge dose of intimacy once in a while.

Hinata Uzumaki was unquestionably receiving everything she had ever wished for and more.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Alcohol Beverages • Attempted Quiet Sex • Blank Period • BlowJob • Body Worship • Candles • Candlenights • Canon • Cock Worship • Couple Goals • Dirty Talk • Domesticity • Explicit • Fellatio • Fingering • Finger Play • Fluff • Fondling • Foreplay • Groping • Hand Job • Husband & Wife • Intimacy • Kissing • Mature • Multiple Orgasms • Mother Appreciation • NSFW • Oral Sex • Parents • Passionate Sex • Praise Kink • Relaxation • Romance • Shower/Tub Sex • Stripping • Strip Tease • Therapeutic • Tranquility • Tooth-Rotting Fluff • Unprotected Sex • Vaginal Sex • Wine • Wholesome •

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚15k.

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚8k.

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Hinata took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air around her to purify her body by entering through her nostrils. For a little period, she felt relief and comfort as her lungs expanded.

She leaned back against the bath cushion on the rim of the bathtub she was now occupying and sighed pleasantly, exhaling through the crevices of her lips.

She was completely submerged in pleasing warm water, with big fluffy bubbles present all around her, completely encasing her entire being.

The bubbles stuck to every part of her pale skin, clinging to her as she lay stretched out fully within her bathtub in the comfort of her own home.

She had plenty of room to move within her bathtub, which was round and decently sized. It resembled a jacuzzi tub in appearance and was constructed of white, flawless ceramic.

The white bathtub was positioned directly upon the bathroom floor, and there was a flat ceramic surface circling it that could be used to place candles, bath essentials, and towels, or even used as a resting spot for one's arms.

Hinata used the opportunity of the evening to set aside the occasion for some relaxing alone time to take a bath, a pastime she enjoyed engaging in occasionally to refresh herself.

There was no other soul present. There were no sudden or abrupt sounds made. The midnight blue-haired woman had no responsibilities, and she didn't have to worry about the passage of time either.

No.

All of her worries were washed away, and she spent her time in the bath simply relaxing, allowing her body to soak and her mind to think about whatever it pleased.

The lights in the serene room she occupied were dim, allowing a brownish hue to saturate the entire space.

The only source of light in the bathroom was given by fire-lit candles, vanilla-scented candles that were carefully placed about the room. Just enough to see.

Each of the candle's ablaze fires danced and flared back and forth, casting lively shadows around the walls as it did so.

The atmosphere around Hinata as she steadily collected her breathing undoubtedly placed her further in a state of tranquility, easing her very soul.

The crystal blue water in the bath was warm against Hinata's skin, not too hot, not too cold, but just right.

Only her head and neck were above the bath water as it rose up her body, covering her limbs and reaching as high as her well-endowed chest.

Her normally long midnight-blue hair was pulled up into a high bun with a hair tie to prevent it from getting wet during her indulgent bath and to avoid causing her any distractions.

Undressed and alone, Hinata was enjoying yet another wonderful night reclining in a bubbly, warm tub. She chose to close her eyes and take slow, deep breaths in order to appreciate every last second of the pleasure of the moment.

Her body felt at ease, more at ease than she had ever felt. Her heartbeat was regular, her breathing was reserved, her limbs were light, and her skin was smooth to the touch, diffused by a lavender floral scent from the bath oils that had been pervaded in the water.

"Ahh." She moaned into the air, her delicate voice emerging to voice out her satisfaction.

All of it felt like a dream.

The situation, however, improved even further when she abruptly heard a soft knock on the bathroom door, which caused her to open her eyes and direct her attention toward the direction the noise originated from.

Her hands gripped the edges of the bathtub on each side of her, her lavender eyes lidded from the high levels of relaxation her entire body was experiencing.

The young woman smiled, knowing right away who was concealed behind the bathroom door.

"Yes? Naruto-kun, is that you?" Hinata called out to her husband, her soft voice echoing across the dimmed room of tranquility to slip outside of the main door from afar.

But the emergence of her voice caused the newcomer to chuckle softly, just on the other side of the closed door.

"Yep! The one and only."

Naruto responded amusingly, only his husky voice heard from Hinata's end.

"I just wanted to let you know, Hinata-chan, that I finally managed to get the kids to sleep, Boruto, and Hima."

Hinata's smile broadened in response to the good news her husband had just shared with her, news that warmed her chest and made her heart flutter.

Gently, she rocked her legs about within the pool of soapy water surrounding her.

Splashes were created as a result.

"Oh, that's fantastic news, Naruto-kun.

I'm so proud of you." Hinata responded, expressing her joy and appreciation, "Thank you so much for putting the kids to bed on my behalf tonight. I appreciate that more than you know."

Immediately after her words of gratitude were spoken, Hinata heard Naruto chuckle once more from behind the door, just before his soothing voice emerged again.

"Oh no, Hinata hime, you don't have to thank me. You need time to unwind, babe, you work so hard, after all. Therefore, I would be pleased to help you with the kids in any way I can. But um.."

There was a sudden pause, a momentary silence that caught Hinata's attention.

The midnight blue-haired woman perked up, "Yes? What is it, Naruto-kun?" Hinata tilted her head, "Do you need something?"

Naruto's voice immediately revealed itself again, in an attempt to answer Hinata's questions.

"Well, I was wondering if I could...come in. I-If I could join you..."

Naruto's voice lowered several notches, nearly to a whisper, as if he was relaying a secret.

"Ya know, to carry out our conversation?"

Naruto's frequent queries, delivered in quiet tones, made Hinata's ears perk up and her heart flutter once more.

Hearing that Naruto wanted to join her in the bath was like music to her ears, an offer that would ensure that her night would improve significantly.

Just like she wanted.

It wasn't really unpleasant at all—rather, euphoric—to take a bath with Naruto.

It always is, and the result is pleasant every single time.

Hinata couldn't help but recall all the other times Naruto accompanied her in the bath, where intimacy soon followed behind—a wonderfully satisfying way to liven up the bathing experience.

Such experiences were the greatest pleasures in life and a luxury that only marriage could provide.

Bathing together always made one another happier, fulfilled, and more refreshed than bathing apart. The two were always left in good spirits.

As a result, Hinata giggled at the sound of her husband whispering his requests to her, as though he were infringing on her privacy and would, therefore, not get the response he desired.

Oh, he had nothing to be concerned about.

Hinata nodded, tilting her head back against the bathtub's cushion pillow, "Oh, my precious Naruto-kun, of course, you can come in. It would make me so happy if you do." Hinata purred in response, her lavender eyes fixed on the bathroom door a short distance away. And as she accepted Naruto's request, she heard a growl of satisfaction from the man she loved coming through the door.

"Oh, honey, what a sweet invitation that is. Well then, I'm coming in."

Naruto rushed into the room after accepting Hinata's alluring offer, eager to greet his midnight blue-haired beauty.

However, as he walked in, an agonizingly lengthy creak of the bathroom door opening filled the entire space, briefly disrupting the tranquility and quiet found inside.

Hinata waited excitedly for her dashing spouse to enter and present himself to her, but the creak of the door seemed to last an eternity.

Her lavender eyes were drawn to the door as it cracked wider and wider, till the appearance of her significant other was at last presented to her.

Hinata's naked body flushed entirely as she watched her blonde spouse take a sidestep past the open door to enter the room she was in, finally revealing himself to her.

The midnight blue-haired woman couldn't stop herself from biting her lip as she connected her eyes to her lover's dreamy blue ones just a few feet away.

His entire body was in full view, with the lights from the candles flickering back and forth, highlighting different portions of his body in fractions of a second.

In addition, from what she could see now, he was wearing a black satin lounge set, a sleepwear ensemble that included a matching button-up shirt and pants. As a finishing touch, the satin ensemble included orange accents down the shirt, slacks, and sleeves.

But what really sent Hinata's heart racing was the fact that Naruto has purposely left his satin shirt unbuttoned, allowing it to sag open and reveal his gloriously tanned body and all of the exquisite gifts it holds.

Hinata couldn't help but wriggle in the tub, splashing the water about as she soaked up her husband's chiseled abs and pecs, which practically bulged out at her.

She licked her lips as she ran her eyes over his pink nipples, which looked to be hardened at the moment; pointy and alluring.

Naruto snickered as he noticed his wife eyeing him over, unaware that he was doing the same to her.

Now that he was inside the bathroom, he used his blue eyes to sweep over his naked wife as her flawless body lay submerged in soapy bathwater that obscured her entirely from his view. Her body was extended due to her resting position, thus her legs made it to the end of the bathtub, just barely revealing themselves.

Naruto, however, caught glimpses of her enormous breasts, the two creamy mounds of hers frequently floating above the water and giving him a sneak peek of their voluptuous goodness.

The short-haired blonde couldn't hold back a moan from such a sight.

Naruto put up a grin, a cheery one to greet his lover, "Hello, my beautiful wife." His cerulean gaze swept up and down Hinata's form, admiring her from afar.

He licked his lips in a seductive manner, dragging his tongue slowly across them.

"Mmm, now don't you look scrumptious."

Naruto greeted his wife in a sensual tone along with a compliment, one that he knew could easily make her weak in the knees.

He watched in satisfaction as Hinata squirmed in her bath, biting her lip briefly to contain herself. Such a sight could only signify that his plan had worked exactly as he had intended.

Hinata's cheeks flushed pink, but she, too, sought to greet Naruto.

"Hello, my lovely husband." Hinata greeted back, with the roll of her shoulders, a seductive motion of her own.

Naruto couldn't help but release yet another moan at such an enticing display, his cock twitching within his lounge pants.

But before advancing further, Naruto took a brief look around at his surroundings, soaking in the candlelit bathroom and all of its tranquilities.

The candles present were placed on countertops, near the sink, and on decorated shelves that marked their locations throughout the bathroom.

The sparks of fire inside such candles flickered and flitted, and the main lights were switched off, creating an idyllic composed mood for the room.

The air was also filled with a delicate vanilla aroma that was nearly edible to the blonde.

The vanilla aroma was warm, cozy, and rich, but it was also sensual, and it genuinely blessed Naruto's nostrils, luring him deeper into the room.

Upon entering Hinata's tranquil realm, Naruto could undoubtedly feel his own body relaxing considerably.

His troubled recollections of putting his kids to bed earlier seem to disappear completely from his head, forgotten for the time being.

Now, he was focused only on his wife.

Solely on his wife.

The short-haired blonde chuckled before gently closing the door behind him with a push of his foot. The door creaked once more before closing with a gentle thump.

"You know, Hinata-chan, what would make me a happy man?"

Naruto's question was abrupt, catching Hinata's attention immediately. She perked up, her eyes plastered on her husband's backside.

"Oh, Naruto-kun. I believe I know plenty of ways to make you a happy man." Hinata purred once more with squinted lavender eyes, "But, to make matters simple. Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind?"

Naruto's eyes narrowed, his head turned over one broad shoulder of his to peer at his wife by the door.

He snickered, "Heh, I'd be a very happy man indeed to stand in this exact spot and watch you as you bathe. I must confess, Hinata-chan."

Naruto moaned his desires into the dimmed room, already horny from witnessing his wife fully naked in the tub, covered in soap and bubbles.

Hinata had little trouble getting Naruto aroused, and at this precise moment, he was just that.

Hinata was quite amused, her delicate voice bursting into adorable laughter, "Oh my love, you're so naughty. You know that would make you quite the pervert."

"Hah!" Naruto scoffed before returning to face his wife, the main door now shut and the two were finally granted the luxury of privacy.

The spiky-haired blonde narrowed his eyes playfully at the mature woman from afar, "If wanting to appreciate your beauty, wanting to take you in as you lie naked and carefree in the bathtub, while resting in your most gorgeous form, deems me a pervert..." Naruto shrugged, giving her a cheeky grin, "I'm just fine with that."

Hinata couldn't hold back her laughter due to Naruto's comment, unable to hold in the amusement of witnessing her shameless husband. His lack of shame never gets old to witness.

"Oh Naruto-kun, you're such a bad boy." Hinata chastised him, her jolly lavender eyes landing on him between her laughter.

However, as it did, her lavender gaze wandered down to his hands, which seemed to be full and in which his fingers were grasping two separate items.

Wine glasses.

The midnight-blue-haired woman's laughter quickly died down and a new emotion came forth to take the helm.

Curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow, "Hm, what have you got there?" She inquired, her head tilting in interest, "Is it for me?"

She stared in astonishment as Naruto nodded his head and then lifted the wine glasses. Hinata was alerted to the glasses by his motion after they had previously been concealed in the palm of his hands.

Now that Naruto has presented the wine glasses, Hinata could see the rich crimson wine that filled them, a fermented fruit alcohol drink that surely aids in relaxation.

Naruto smiled slyly, "Yeah, I got you a little something. Hope it's not too much." He replied casually with a shrug before advancing further into the room.

He set his distant wonderment aside in favor of getting a better look at his wife. Now he was determined to give her the thoughtful present of wine that he had specifically purchased for her and had been keeping hidden within the back of one of their kitchen cabinets, untouched...

Until now.

Naruto's journey forth was smooth, his steps light against the marble floor. His bare feet took him closer and closer to the beautiful woman residing in the room's bathtub.

Hinata could feel her heart begin to race after every step her lover took to get to her. Every time he took a step forward, her heart sped up and her cheeks grew warmer, her lavender eyes fixated on him throughout his entire journey to her.

She let out a delighted hum once Naruto finally approached, extending one arm to provide her with her alcoholic beverage.

"There you are, my beautiful hime." Naruto spoke softly to her, his body leaned slightly over hers.

His thoughtful efforts were rewarded with a gorgeous smile from his wife, her delicate facial features lighting up in a way that took his breath away. Naruto froze like a complete idiot as a result, his widened blue eyes planted solely on her.

Hinata slowly moved one soapy arm from the bathwater's depths to take the wine glass from her husband's grasp, noticing how the liquid jostled within the glass as a result of its movement.

Soap and water streamed down her lifted arm, soaking her hand, but she managed to hold her glass securely.

"Thank you, Naruto-kun." She smiled as she spoke, and Naruto was finally jolted out of his romantic stupor by the sound of her voice. He reciprocated by flashing a smile of his own.

As he gazed at the beauty of his wife before him, the whiskered blonde's lips expanded wide, revealing nearly all of his gleaming white teeth.

He couldn't help but bend forward to kiss Hinata on the lips, gently lifting his prosthetic hand to cup the back of her head.

Both groaned as they reveled in such a passionate kiss, one in which their lips clashed fiercely, eliciting feelings that seemed to explode within them.

The kiss was brief, but it was powerful for them both. That fleeting but sincere display of affection meant a great deal to them, touching their hearts.

Hinata sighed softly as her husband lavished her with more kisses, his lips softly crashing against hers after every second to give her gentle pecs.

Naruto moaned in bliss, "Mmm, you're welcome." He leaned back to curse, his blue eyes taking a moment to run down his wife's luscious body in the bathtub.

Only one word came to his mind.

Perfection.

The spiky-haired blonde clicked his tongue, "Mmm, kami, I love you so much." He moaned before releasing his delicate hold on the back of his wife's head, shifting his entire body away from her to take a seat on the edge of the tub.

He carefully placed his ass on the rim of the tub Hinata was in, exactly so he could look down at her as she bathed.

He ran his gaze over the soapy bathwater she was in, which seemed to flow back and forth within the round tub, filling every inch of space from bottom to top.

Hinata's pale skin and all the other features of her body that Naruto adored were continually washed clean by the soapy water.

Naruto bit his lip briefly, clutching his own wine glass firmly, "How's the bath going, baby?" Naruto inquired, never once taking his eye off the beauty before him.

Hinata hummed, sinking herself deeper into the water to soak up more of its divine goodness, wine glass in hand, "Oh, it's been wonderful. But now that you're here, everything is far better." Hinata responded with a sincere smile, expressing her delight at being in the presence of her blonde lover.

In response to her statement, Naruto hummed with delight, every fiber of his being growing brighter and happier. His blue eyes sparkled, swiftly overflowing with joy, his whiskered cheeks widening to exhibit a childish grin, causing Hinata's cheeks to flush red.

Hinata's one compliment was all it took to make Naruto's night completely brighter. He couldn't even remove the idiotic grin from his face.

The whiskered male cooed, "Ah, Hinata-chan, you're gonna make me blush. You certainly have a gift." Naruto nodded cheekily, "you surely know how to touch a man's heart."

Hinata beamed, her heart fluttering in her chest due to such a profound compliment, "Oh but it's true, after all, my love. It makes me happy to have this time of privacy with you."

"Right back at ya, hime."

Hinata's cheeks flushed even more at the sight of her husband's heated stare and response, sincerely thrilled that she had been able to touch his heart, just as he had done hers by blessing her with the object that lay in her palm right this second.

Wine was just what she needed.

Hinata refocused her attention on her wine glass, before finally and excitedly taking a sip from it.

She was instantly welcomed by a delightful cherry flavor, a fruity taste with a pronounced acidity and zing. In response, she felt her throat tingle, her chest warm up, and her limbs lighten.

She eagerly sipped her beverage, tipping the cup toward her lips so that more of the liquid inside the glass could fall into her gaping mouth.

Naruto observed Hinata hum in contentment after taking a few gulps, her throat muscles steadily moving as it received more of the red wine.

He grinned, delighted to see she was enjoying the alcoholic beverage he had supplied for her, before taking a few sips of his own.

The two were silent for a moment, just enjoying each other's company and the alcoholic beverages in their possession—drinks they were able to consume privately, away from their children's eyes.

Hinata wasn't much of the drinker type, but she did enjoy occasionally downing an alcoholic beverage to help her relax and unwind.

Therefore, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

The midnight blue-haired woman let out a pleasant hum before withdrawing her glass away from her lips and settling on merely holding it in one hand.

"Mmm, so good," She licked her lips, licking away the remaining wine residue.

"Yeah?" Naruto chimed in, captivated by his wife's delight in obtaining wine. He wasn't sure if she'd be up for it, but he was pleased to learn that he actually helped her more during her downtime.

"Yes, the wine tastes so delicious," Hinata commented, raising her glass to shake it in response to Naruto's earlier statement, "It's just what I needed, Naruto-kun. Thank you so much."

"Ahh," Naruto shrugged her off, "What did I say about thanking me? Just know that I will help and provide for you in every way I can. It's the least I can do as your husband, Hinata-chan." Naruto announced with a wink, swaying his body back and forth across the bathtub's circular surface.

In return, Hinata cooed, her cheeks becoming even redder at the passionate acknowledgment Naruto delivered her. It was extremely thoughtful and demonstrated just how much he cared for her and her needs, not to mention how much he loved her.

Naruto was always eager to meet her every whim and desire, going out of his way to ensure she was well cared for.

Boruto and Himawari included.

He was a wonderful parent and husband, always there and reliable.

Hinata found herself once again thanking her lucky stars that she was married to Naruto, for finally being recognized for who she was by someone she admired.

She was quite powerless to suppress her childish grin.

Hinata hummed quietly before lifting her foot from the tub's water and directing it over to pat Naruto's hip.

Water dripped down from her lifted leg, dampening everything in its proximity but the two didn't seem to mind, their gazes fixed on one another.

Naruto cocked a brow.

Hinata tilted her head, "Mmm, such a good husband you are to me, Naruto-kun. I am deeply grateful to have you in my life, here to care for me, to love me for all that I am." Hinata hummed softly, "I am grateful that Himawari and Boruto are blessed with such a wonderful, hardworking father. That is all I have ever wished for."

Hinata's genuine answer ached Naruto's whiskered cheeks, bringing back his youthful grin. He bent his head, his short hair ruffled in the process, "Aww, hime, you're gonna make me tear up. I, too, consider myself fortunate to have you as a wife. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." Naruto stated unequivocally, speaking from the bottom of his heart, "It is an amazing fortune that I have been granted your love, this home, and even our lovely children. Every single blessing that I have, I cherish every single day."

"Oh N-Naruto-kun." Hinata whimpered, speechless.

It wasn't long before her lavender eyes welled up with tears, happy tears as she gazed up at her radiant husband, submerged in warm water aimed to cleanse and relax her.

His words were deep and powerful, slamming right into her heart, which began to race erratically, pounding against her ribcage in a frenzy. Her eyes were drawn to the blue irises that returned her gaze, falling lost in the two blue depths of her husband's eyes.

Naruto's gaze had her completely fascinated, fixated, and motionless.

But Naruto was in the same boat, his movements halted as he gazed dreamily into his gorgeous wife's eyes, taking the time to properly appreciate all that she is.

Their love staring contest lasted for a few moments until being called off by Hinata due to a notion that occurred to her.

Her trance was broken, and she let forth a gasp, "O-Oh, that r-reminds me." She glanced back at Naruto, who had been shaken out of his trance yet again by her voice, his blue eyes blinking frantically.

"Hm? What's on your mind, babe?" He asked in a murmur, before giving his wine a sip in anticipation for her reply.

The mature woman hummed, softly jiggling her wine glass, "How did it go with Boruto and Hima? Did they give you any trouble? Did they go down easy for you?" Hinata inquired, interested as to how events transpired with Naruto taking the initiative and putting their two rowdy children to bed for the night.

It was surely not a task he was used to, after all.

Usually, Hinata was the one to look after Boruto and Himawari's well-being, skilfully covering such responsibilities as a responsible mother should.

This includes cooking for her children three times a day, cleaning up after their numerous play sessions, showering them with attention, bathing them, reading to them, and softly lulling them to sleep at night.

When Naruto wasn't gone on missions, he always played with Boruto and Hima, teaching them new physical abilities and engaging them in humorous hand-to-hand combat. He always kept them entertained and happy.

He taught them vital lessons, instilled in them important values, and was always there to pitch in whenever Hinata needed him to.

But when it comes to difficult chores like figuring out just how to fulfill them, exactly the way they wanted, or simply calming them down during their frequent fits...

Let's just say, he still needed a little work.

Hinata laughed as Naruto rolled his lips in a frenzy, releasing multiple "pssh" sounds before waving his free hand through the air, "Oh, please. Hinata-chan, putting the kids to sleep was easy; I didn't even break a sweat-"

"Oh really now?" Hinata cocked her head and stifled laughter since she was able to see right through Naruto.

She tapped his hip again with her foot, "Did you remember to read Kintaro's Adventures to them? That book is a favorite of both Boruto and Himawari. I read that book to them every night before they drift off to sleep."

Naruto grimaced, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "Uh well." He let out a nervous laugh. "You see I-"

"Oh, and did you make sure Himawari has her pink teddy bear? She can't sleep peacefully without it-"

"A pink teddy bear?" Naruto facepalms himself, "I mean, how could I have known? She seemed perfectly content with the hundred other teddy bears scattered across her bed-!"

"Boruto must also sleep with his nightlight on. He has a fear of the dark."

"Nani? Boruto? Scared of the dark? He never told me-"

"Of course, Boruto didn't, Naruto-kun. When it comes to expressing his own feelings, he is rather reticent. So, you must look for the signs because he won't openly admit his fears to you. Boruto most likely was glancing at his nightlight the whole while."

"Oh, yeah. He was! He kept looking over toward the nightlight, which confused me. But," The blonde male shrugged, "I didn't give it any thought."

Hinata sighed and shook her head chastisingly at her husband. He appears to have forgotten everything she has instructed him and has simply been winging it the entire night, attempting anything to encourage Boruto and Himawari to sleep.

It was him, being his usual self.

It brought so much amusement to Hinata. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Naruto-kun." She reprimanded.

"I'm sorry, Hinata-chan," Naruto replied hesitantly, scratching his neck again. "I genuinely don't know how you manage it all on a regular basis. Parenting is so goddamn difficult." He admitted with a troubled frown, rushing his hand up to run his fingers through his short blonde hair.

"Boruto was a little rowdier than normal tonight. It was as if I wasn't even talking half the time. He cried and screamed, refusing to go to bed so many times. He even tried to hide from me twice." Naruto exclaimed with a loud groan.

He shook his head, "Himawari was no better, I'm afraid. She continuously bombarded me with so many questions. She nearly talked my head off. It was as though she wasn't tired at all!"

Naruto put up a pout, sulking in his spot on the edge of the tub, "Sheesh, I lied big time. Putting those two to sleep is definitely not an easy mission. More like a total nightmare."

"So, I definitely," Naruto trailed off, his blue eyes falling down to the wine glass between his fingers. He raised it in the air, jiggling it in his grasp, "needed this." He proclaimed before taking another sip, causing Hinata to burst into laughter.

Her eyes gleamed joyfully upon receiving the truth, of knowing exactly how it went as he attempted to put Boruto and Himawari to sleep.

And Hinata thought it was absolutely adorable to witness Naruto try so hard to assume an exemplary parent role, to take on such a difficult responsibility. It was all so new to Naruto, to them both, but especially to Naruto. He had no idea how to care for a child, let alone another human being in general, so having to care for two children has come as an absolute shock to him.

It was hard for him.

But he's trying. He's trying so hard.

With that thought in mind, Hinata's maternal instincts quickly took over, and she found herself powerless to repress the urge to console him. She stretched out her free hand to clutch his arm, to caress him.

She ran her thumb back and forth along the silky fabric of his shirt, accidentally dampening it with soapy water.

"Oh, my dear Naruto-kun. I know it must be hard for you at times, taking care of the kids, but you must be patient. You must rely on these..." Hinata reached her body forth to caress his left ear, a gesture that caused Naruto to chuckle.

"And not this." Hinata retorted before giving his forehead a point, indicating his brain. Naruto grunted.

Hinata smiled, "Now that they are a little older, Boruto and Himawari will tell you everything they wish for you to know, you just have to be open to it." She explained, "And when you develop the practice of attending to them, you will naturally anticipate their needs and wishes. The secret, my love, is repetition, trial and error, and patience. I'm confident you'll get it one day."

Hinata's voice was soothing and kind as she gave Naruto helpful counsel, indicating her comprehension of his present predicament and issues, and making him feel much better.

He felt better now that he knew his current situation was normal and that it took a lot of effort, even for Hinata, to be able to handle a child, let alone two.

Children were tough. Learning to care for children takes time; it's definitely not some stroll in the park.

Each one is distinct and necessitates specific care and time to become acquainted with, in order to uncover each of their triggers, strengths, and weaknesses; dislikes and likes; fears and wishes.

It was akin to a difficult mission, but the outcome was significantly more rewarding and meaningful.

Hinata watched as Naruto deeply soaked in her words, his eyes fixated on the bathwater within the tub below.

Her smile grew as she witnessed Naruto's whiskered face suddenly break into a huge grin, his lips expanding widely and illuminating his features.

He shifted his gaze away from its fixed place to draw his attention back to her. He gave her an appreciative smile before lowering his free hand to clasp her own which gripped his arm.

His touch was light and delicate as if he were holding something valuable before moving Hinata's dainty hand into the air just as he lowered his head.

He planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand, pushing his lips against her damp flesh, never once taking his gaze away from her.

Hinata's cheeks completely burned scarlet at the sight and touch of Naruto's extraordinarily romantic gesture. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest, and her breathing had become fairly heavy. Her lavender eyes were slightly expanded but were locked on his blue gaze and lips.

"Thank you, Hinata-chan. Thank you for the advice, baby." She heard him whisper, his hot breath slipping from the cracks of his lips to hit her hand, sending goosebumps through her body.

"I truly hope you're right."

Naruto raised his head as he carefully lowered Hinata's arm back into the bathwater, allowing it to become submerged once more in the soapy liquid.

"And as always, my love, I believe in you," Hinata said, joyously swaying her legs in the water. "I'm confident you'll improve with time. But..."

"But?" Naruto questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Hinata hummed, "I'm still curious as to how you managed to put Boruto and Himawari to bed. It's a puzzle I can't quite solve-"

But before Hinata could finish her remark, Naruto interrupted her, giving her all the information she needed to clear up her uncertainty.

But he found himself uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck once more, "I well... I may or may not have been persuaded to give them milk and cookies-"

"N-Nani! Naruto-kun!"

"A-And I shared a few tales from my prior missions with them. That managed to do the trick; it put them right to sleep."

"Oh, Naruto-kun." Hinata chastised once more.

"S-Sorry, Hinata-chan."

"It's okay, my love. It's okay."

Following their serious discussion, the two decided to spend the next few moments completing their wine within their wine glasses. They swallowed the rest of their contents quietly, savoring the gratification that their bodies felt afterward.

After savoring every last sip of his beverage, Naruto let out a cheer, jumping to his feet.

Hinata laughed at the sight of his joy before her husband gently removed her empty glass from her hands.

"Woohoo! Now that hits the spot! I feel better already."

Hinata laughed once more, but settled for watching as Naruto moved away from her to the sink's countertop in the room, which was present behind him.

He rid himself of the two wine glasses by simply placing them on top of the bathroom appliance for a little while.

But Hinata couldn't stop her gaze from wandering down Naruto's clothed backside. She instantly noticed the way his satin shirt fluttered in the steady wind he created as he walked.

She bit her lip as she drifted down his tall frame further, only to ogle at his ass.

Her arousal immediately peaked.

She tapped the tub's edge with her finger while lightly kicking her feet, back and forth in the water, "Ya know, Naruto-kun, I've been wondering something babe..."

"Yeah, what is it?" Naruto perked up due to the abrupt sound of Hinata's voice, his head twisting around to face her again.

Hinata guided one of her feet out of the bathwater, pointing one big toe at him, and he watched, curious.

She guided her elevated appendage to trace up and down his muscular physique, pointing at his seductive apparel.

"I was wondering if you've chosen to wear that for me?" She asked, keeping her raised toe pointed at his unbuttoned satin shirt and pants.

"Are you trying to arouse me, hm, Naruto-kun?" Hinata inquired as well, with the tilt of her head, her pinned hair following her movements.

"Because it's working."

Hinata's words took on a seductive tone, one that flowed off of her tongue like honey to fill the quiet space around her. Such a tone was merely adopted due to the fact she was currently under the influence of alcohol.

Naruto knew that much.

But he was, nonetheless, fascinated by the way her demeanor shifted. He certainly wasn't able to resist the desire to indulge in more of Hinata's naughty behavior, to see just how far she would go.

His lounge shirt swayed back and forth the entire while as he fully twisted his body to return to her.

He shrugged, pulling his arms out wide, "Perhaps. You know I'm addicted to making that pussy of yours throb. And I knew that..." Naruto draped his hands down to clutch the sides of his satin shirt, showing off more of his chiseled torso, He gave his shirt a tug, "this would do the trick."

Now that was the final straw for Hinata.

She dipped her foot back into the water before pulling up one hand to beckon him over.

"Oh, you naughty boy. I must confess how much I adore your outfit, but..." Hinata bit her lip, "I would enjoy it much more if it were on the floor."

"On the floor?" Naruto's eyes darkened in arousal, "Are you trying to get me naked, babe?"

Hinata hummed, shrugging her shoulders, "Perhaps."

Naruto clicked his tongue before yanking his shirt again, just as he made it back in front of the tub, towering over Hinata. His presence cast a shadow on her, and his blue eyes ogled her as shamelessly as they pleased.

The short-haired blonde tilted his head, "Mmm, who's the naughty one now." He whispered, "But if that is what you want, I am more than obliged to undress for you."

Hinata's entire body blushed as her husband performed an enticing striptease for her hooded gaze, his large hands clutching his unbuttoned shirt and slowly but steadily pulling it off his person.

The smooth material slipped down his broad shoulders like water and down his chiseled backside, landing with a plop on the floor.

Hinata bit her lower lip at the sight of her beloved standing shirtless in front of her, no longer concealing any of his muscles from her gaze.

His tanned muscles bulged at her, flexing in the face of her enthralled stare.

She felt her pussy throb within the bathwater.

"Mmm, tasty." The midnight blue-haired woman whispered seductively which only earned her a chuckle from Naruto.

Slowly, he worked his fingers down his body to grab a hold of the lip of his pants, just where his cock was hidden, lying fully erect and thus pressing against the fabric.

Hinata's eyes shifted downward, and she watched as Naruto wasted no time in removing his pants.

He yanked them down slowly while keeping his eyes on her, "You wanted this right?" He spoke sensually as he yanked his pants off his hips, allowing the fabric to fall down his legs and spill at his feet.

He stepped out of them, leaving his discarded pants on the floor.

He was now only dressed in black boxers that hung loosely off his hips, revealing his defined V-line, the train of blonde hair that sprang from his crotch, and even the outline of his mighty cock, which was currently tucked away but badly longing to be released.

Hinata nodded her head, "Oh yes, Naruto-kun." She rolled her tongue in response to his earlier query, producing a sensual sound that made the blonde male curse under his breath.

The mature woman held the tub's edges even tighter, just to pull herself out of her reclining position and sit erect.

Throughout the process, however, the water surged back and forth, splashing against her body as she moved.

"And those." She whispered.

She sat up to get a better look at Naruto as he stood in front of her in only boxers, exposing his sun-kissed skin and well-defined muscles.

She groaned, pointing to the final item of clothing still attached to his body where her reward was concealed.

"I want your boxers off, Naruto-kun." Hinata opened her mouth briefly, just so her tongue could slip out of it, "I want your cock in my mouth."

Naruto's eyes widened at Hinata's desired instruction and her seductive conduct, as it marked a significant difference from her behavior previously.

But he wasn't complaining.

He simply gave her a nod, and proceeded to give her what she wanted.

He yanked his boxers off in the blink of an eye, stepping out of them to approach the tub, to approach his aroused wife.

Clearly, she was a lightweight, influenced by just one glass of wine, tipsy not only from the alcohol but also from the current ambiance, from the peaceful relaxing aura.

Naruto felt it too.

He was in the mood for intimacy, to have a good time with his wife all night long. He was willing to fuck her right here, right now in the tub, and then take her to the bedroom to complete their session there.

But first...

He stepped forward, taking the necessary steps to stand right in front of her lifted form, his build towering over her like a mountain.

His blue eyes were indistinct, dark, and totally fixed on her as he stood nude, in all his naked splendor.

Hinata found herself quite compelled to observe as his huge cock rocked back and forth in time with his movements. Just the sight caused her pussy to twitch within the bathwater, responding with pleasure to its other half.

The horny woman let out a hum of satisfaction as she took the time to carefully observe her husband's exposed member between his legs with her lavender eyes.

And as she did so, she sat back and watched the show, paying close attention to every little aspect.

No matter how many times Hinata saw it or felt it inside of her, Naruto's cock never failed to surprise her. That was beyond a doubt.

The one and only member she would ever be pleased by, (a dream come true for her), protruded proudly from a patch of curly blonde hair.

Naruto's cock was imposingly large, lengthy, and thick, and its angry mushroom-shaped tip bulged and twitched under her gaze.

Thick, blue veins sprout from underneath his member's thick meat sheath and spread like channels all along his length.

Hinata couldn't help but trace such veiny routes with her eyes, taking in every inch of him.

His cock was extremely excited at the moment, dribbling precum at the tip, which dropped with loud splats on the floor, sullying the ground before him.

Naruto possessed a dick of the gods, one that could satisfy her at any time of day, in any fashion, in any position, and with no difficulty at all.

Hinata's excitement level skyrocketed just by looking at it, prompting her to wriggle like a lunatic in the bathtub.

Naruto let out a low hum as he noticed his wife eyeballing his erect cock, practically drooling at the sight of it before her.

He extended his fingers down to grab the base of it, clamping his hand tightly around the hot flesh.

"Now, my naughty wife, I think it's time we had some fun." In an effort to further tempt Hinata, Naruto purposefully gave his cock a bounce with his hand, causing the pointy flesh to jiggle in front of her face.

The young woman felt her breathing quicken, her heart beat faster, and her womanly hormones began to behave strangely in response to the teasing display.

She experienced a hardening of her nipples that was almost intolerable and an increase in the frequency and intensity of her vaginal twitches.

She was so hungry for Naruto's cock, she couldn't sit still. She couldn't help but praise it, for acknowledging its magnificence and beguiling hold on her.

She tightened her grip on the tub, digging her nails firmly into the material, "Y-Your cock is s-so big. I-I could never..." Her words of awe faded as she noticed Naruto's dick twitch, a quick gesture of lurching up in response to her praise.

"Oh my kami."

Hinata stared in fascination once more, savoring the gift that lie so boldly in front of her.

She was counting herself blessed once more for being graced by the masterpiece of the man in front of her, a work of art that gladly and happily shares his gifts with her whenever she desires.

She swore she felt her heart flip in her chest. Her breath hitched as well.

Chuckling at his dazed wife, Naruto gently reached out to cup her chin, to help direct her attention away from his cock and toward his eyes.

Only then, did he realize how dull and clouded her lavender orbs appeared, a stark contrast to before. The woman he saw now was unquestionably different from the one he initially encountered when he entered the washroom earlier.

The woman before him now looked so hungry—hungry for pleasure, hungry for his attention, hungry for his dick.

The mature, intelligent young lady from before was long gone, replaced by a horny one who was anxious to sate her lewd cravings, fully present in the moment, and with a lack of desire to remain idle.

It was an amusing sight that made Naruto laugh again, his mind undoubtedly storing such a look from Hinata deep within the recesses of his brain.

The whiskered blonde licked his lips, his thumb caressing her supple skin, her chin in his grasp.

"You want my cock, hm? It's what you want, isn't it, Hinata-chan?"

Naruto observed Hinata closely as he proposed his questions and breathed them upon the fiery cheeks of his lover.

He watched as her eyes fluttered and twinkled, her breath hitched, and a gulp slipped down her throat.

But ultimately, her head nodded.

"Y-Y-Yes, I want it so bad, N-Naruto-kun—your big fat cock."

Hinata begged. She begged for his cock in that seductive voice Naruto loved so fucking much.

He was unable to control the shaking in his legs, the shivers that danced up and down his spine, or even the unceasing twitching of his member within his grasp.

"Fuck."

He bit his lip down at Hinata before gently removing his hand away from her chin to instead rest it by his waist.

He gave her a nod down at his erect member, a nod for her to take off, to do as she wished.

"Well then." He taunted, "Come and get it."

Naruto didn't have to tell Hinata twice before she leaped forward, her upper body extending out of the tub in an attempt to grab Naruto's cock.

Naruto let go of his cock, only to be replaced by Hinata's dainty hand, which tightly held the base of his shaft, simply to keep his rod steady and pointed in her direction.

As soon as the spiky-haired blonde felt Hinata insert his cock into her hot mouth, a strong jolt of pleasure hit him square in the gut.

In desperation, her lips ringed his mushroom tip, and only from there, she immediately sought to put those lips to good use.

While holding onto the base of his cock with one hand, Hinata began to continuously bob her head back and forth. Each time she bobbed her head, her mouth seemed to take in more and more of his length.

Her oral muscles joyfully reacted to the presence of his massive, veiny cock in her mouth by rubbing against him, stroking every inch of him that was present.

Naruto completely lost it.

He threw his head back to let out numerous groans, groans of pure satisfaction.

Hinata's mouth was searing hot to his sensitive member, amplifying the pleasure he felt.

Tingles ran through his entire nude body, strong ones that made his toes curl and scratch against the floor, his knees shake, and his abdomen tense. His muscles tightened at moments as he felt Hinata's mouth run over all the sensitive areas along his crotch.

As a result, Hinata's favorite melodies were brought to life.

Naruto's groans and moans of ecstasy.

Continue Reading on Wattpad Or AO3.

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[dazaistabletop]

[izzy-b-hands]

On a random fic related side note, just saw I'm at nearly 80 fics written for our flag, and can only think to myself

'wow bud, you had like. over 100 for the Pacific probably even faster than this. You've really lost steam, huh?'

and like. Brain. could we just enjoy the number go up, even if number go up SLOWLY

[john-barkston]

our hot water is broken so i took a victorian shower with two boiled pots of water. it was amazing LOL i wish bathrooms were more geared towards "sit down in peace and wash yourself as needed" instead of "stand there miserably while the loud water crashes around u and the steam fogs ur lungs and you waste a ton of water that never stays hot anyway"

[thentherewasfury]

I don’t know who needs to hear this but water is NOT a lubricant

[prompt-heaven]

smut prompt list no. 2

1) overwhelmed, but happy crying during sex 

2) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over 

3) depression sex in order to feel something good for once

4) messy drunk sex that is then forgotten the morning after

5) filming it, either for private purposes or because they’re amateur pornstars

6) mutual masturbation

7) spying on/walking in on their partner touching themself 

8) sex in exchange for a favour

9) car sex

10) quiet airplane bathroom sex

11) touching the other while at the movies

12) sex while there is the background noise of a rainstorm outside

13) being snowed in together and fucking in front of the fireplace 

14) pool/hot tub sex

15) stargazing that turns into sex

16) the classic “oh, let me help you put some sunscreen on” but then the little massage turns into something more

17) sex while camping

18) fucking in the bar bathroom and being too drunk to care about being quiet 

19) when the teasing in the dressing room gets a little too hot

20) shower/bath sex

[rememberwren]

Just a Ghoap/military!fem!reader little sex pollen drabble for the anon who requested it ages ago :) dub con, fingering. Reader is carried by Ghost but otherwise featureless and without description.

-

Ghost can take the screams. He can take the cries, the pleas, the begging. He does take it, planting himself outside the singular bedroom door of the safehouse they’re holed up in until the storm passes, his dark eyes watching Johnny pace a hole in the goddamn floor, ready to come between you and the Sergeant should needs must.

But it’s the silence that breaks him.

It’s even caught Johnny’s attention. The man stops his pacing and stands facing the bedroom, his face somber, both of their ears cocked toward the door as they listen for any sign of you on the other side. Maybe the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on your own fingers. Maybe more begging—begging for Ghost or Johnny or both at once to come in and stuff you full with their cocks.

No sound comes.

“Fuck it,” Ghost says, beginning to strip. “I’m going in there.”

“The hell you are,” Johnny says, stepping into Ghost’s space. He points a finger towards your pointed silence. “She’s been compromised; she cannot consent!”

“She’s in there dying, Johnny,” Ghost says, the sound of ripping velcro loud in the quiet of the house. “She needs to get fucked or she’ll die. I’ll take the fucking discharge.”

“She’ll hate you for this.”

“She’ll be alive to do it; that’s good enough for me.”

Johnny grips his bare arm once he’s stripped out of his kit, fingertips digging into scarred skin. “You’re not going in there without me. If one of us has to do it, then the other has to help him keep his head, aye? You’ll do no more than what you have to do to keep her alive.”

Ghost brushes off Johnny’s touch, something which is normally welcome. He’d break Johnny’s wrist for suggesting otherwise if he didn’t think Johnny might need both hands for what’s to come.

When they unlock and open the door to the bedroom the silence is near eerie. You’re not on the bed where they left you, and it takes a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and find you laying on the floor beside the bed, like you had rolled out of it or fallen in your attempts to make it to the door. Your body is still except for the bone-deep shivers that wrack your figure. Ghost goes to your side and rolls you over onto your back, puts a hand to your forehead and withdraws from the way your skin burns with fever.

“Go start the shower. Tepid, Johnny. Not cold,” Ghost instructs him.

“Aye,” says Johnny, rushing into the tiny adjoined bathroom. The sound of water follows.

“Come on,” Ghost mutters to you softly. He tries to work his hand between your legs, but they are clamped shut tightly, the muscles seized up. It reminds him too much of the stiffness of a dead body. Instead he begins the arduous work of stripping you down, unlacing your boots, working your pants down your wide hips and thighs. It’s good enough.

Johnny reappears. “Shower’s ready. How is she?”

“Brain’s turning into a nice golden chip,” Ghost mutters, standing and hauling you up with him. You’re heavier than you look, especially when your body refuses to go limp in his arms. He steps into the bathroom and takes brief stock of it: the small, dirty porcelain tub, the shower faucet that is more of a dribble than a spray. He climbs into the tub with his clothes on and lays with you, both your bodies filling it to the brim as the cool water rains down on your figures.

Johnny kneels at the tubside. “What’s she need?”

“To cum,” Ghost says. He tries to work his hand between your thighs again, but your body actively fights against him, muscles trembling from the strain. At last he can work his fingers between your legs and he finds you sodden, soaked, dripping from the burning heat of your core. All he has to do is brush his fingers over the swollen knot of your clit and your body seizes against him, your jaw unclenching around a shriek as you cum for the first time. You arch against him like a cat, groaning like the frantic touch is the best thing you’ve ever felt. Pure pleasure to your frying synapses.

“Jesus,” Johnny mutters.

“Good girl,” Ghost mutters, unsure if you can even hear him. You’re still fighting against him, but not as much—or perhaps your body is growing tired, weak. He can work his hand between your thighs now, gathering your slick onto his three middlemost fingers and dragging the wetness up over your aching clit, rubbing in soft, rapid circles. This time when you cum, your knees snap open wide, cracking against the sides of the porcelain tub as your hips thrust upwards, chasing his fingers. The sounds that pour from your mouth combined with the way you writhe against him has his cock hardening against your back. Ghost takes even, measured breaths, trying to leave his body behind and focus on your own.

Johnny is fairing no better, shifting on his knees, cock pressed against the side of the porcelain tub. He reaches a hand down and adjusts himself, but lingers too long, until it’s impossible to call it anything but what it is: playing with himself.

A groan rips from your throat, forming syllables, nonsensical. You roll in Ghost’s grasp, your clothes clinging to your wet skin until your clothed breasts are pressed to his chest. Your eyes are open now but so frighteningly empty, glossy with fever and bloodshot. Your gaze doesn’t focus on him as you struggle to grind yourself against the hardening tent in his pants, fingers stiff and useless even as you grab at and cling to him.

“Give her some fingers,” Johnny insists. Your head turns toward the sound, and you scramble out of the tub, flinging water everywhere as you push him backwards off balance, pin him to the ceramic tile floor, and grind your cunt against his cock.

“Fu-uck,” Johnny groans, hands finding your hips. He stills you, the muscles in his arms straining as you put all your strength into defying him. “Lass, you don’t know what you’re doing—!”

Ghost climbs out of the tub, dripping wet. He turns the water off—hopeful that your fever is already beginning to abate now that they are giving in to your body’s needs—and loops an arm around your waist, wrenching you off of Johnny. Some help his Sergeant is. (Ghost had expected him to be about this useless.)

“Sit up,” Ghost barks. Johnny can still follow orders, sitting up and scooting back until his back is braced against the wall. Ghost puts you between his legs, facing away from him. “Hold her open.”

Johnny grips your thighs, fingers dimpling the soft flesh. His face is pained—whether that pain is coming from his cock or from his soft bleeding heart, Ghost doesn’t know. Doesn’t really care. He searches the soaked space between your thighs, finding your entrance and slipping two thick fingers into you.

You howl, body bowing against Johnny’s. Inside, you are like burning silk, soft and molten, squeezing tight around the girth of his fingers. He hooks them softly, aiming for that spongy area behind your pubic bone and works to fuck you with vigor, the wet squelches of your cunt nearly obscene in the enclosed, tiled space.

Your mouth forms words, simple ones: “Yes, yes, yesyesyesyes,” until you are hissing the word, your head thrown back to rest on Johnny’s shoulder and expose your corded throat, shirt sticking to your skin. When you run out of breath, you can’t draw in more, your body frozen in time, trembling with need. When you cum, you fucking squirt, a rush of wetness that follows his fingers when he trails them out of you and skims them over your clit to prolong the orgasm.

“Jesus,” Johnny mutters again, burying his face against your neck.

“No gods here,” Ghost reminds him. He reaches up and taps his wet fingers against Johnny’s cheek, thrills as Johnny turns his head and opens his mouth to take them, to suck them clean, groaning.

“No,” you shriek, wrapping both hands around Ghost’s wrist. You tug with all your strength, his fingers slipping wetly from Johnny’s mouth. “No—back inside, please put them back, please—”

But Ghost knows that these are only temporary fixes to get you off of death’s doorstep. If he wants to truly save your life, he knows the cost. What’s the use in prolonging your pain?

Ghost should pay up.

“I’ve got something better for you,” Ghost promises. To Johnny, he says: “Help me get her to the bed.”

[highvern]

Honey

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: strip tease, kinda public sex?, unprotected sex, creampie, simp mingyu, established relationship, dry humping (in a hot tub), fingering, face fucking/oral (m. receiving), porn with feelings, mingyu has a thing for being called husband, breeding kink

Length: ~2.8k

Note: inspired by the two seconds of mingyu in lalali. sorry @gyuswhore next time dont let your man act like a fool. this is a continuation of Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) but can be read as a stand alone! see below for their master list

Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) [f,s], Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II [f]

Pre-Drunk Goggles (in order): Peaches [f], Bite the Bullet [f, h], Jealousy [a, h]

Post-Drunk Goggles (in order): Silk [s], Aphrodite [f, s], Discovery [s], Lucky Me [f], adamas et aurum [f], Baby Blues [f]

Summary: The best way to recover from the stress of your wedding and celebrate your marriage? Some private time in the hot tub with your new husband.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Twenty four hours.

You’d been married for twenty four hours and can barely keep your eyes open from exhaustion. Not because of your husband and the vigorous but romantic sex he insisted on having on every surface of the cabin your friends chipped in to rent as a wedding present. No, you’ve barely managed to touch each other beyond agonizingly fatigued kisses and sentimental cuddles. 

Last night you both barely managed to make it into the bed before passing out cold. This morning, you found Mingyu nodding off at the stove after insisting on cooking breakfast while you showered. A few lazy gropes during breakfast (Mingyu’s hand barely toeing the line of indecent on your thigh) and a hot kiss before he left the bed was all the action managed in the first day as a newly wed couple. 

It’s still a funny word: husband. For so long husband was hypothetical; a distant idea that someday you’d have one. Maybe. If you found someone you could put up with long enough to start considering them as a long term partner instead of a fling.

And then Mingyu went from an acquaintance to boyfriend in a matter of months and the hypotheticals started shaping into realities with shocking speed.

The amorphous face of your hypothetical-husband slowly started to resemble Mingyu’s day after day. Week after week. And now, after months of planning, hair pulling, and a day full of tears, Mingyu is your husband. 

And he’s waiting for you in the hot tub just outside.

It’s the middle of the day but time ceases to maintain importance on vacation. But after a late breakfast you both agreed the best thing for your aching bodies was an afternoon relaxing in the hot tub until you both pruned like raisins. 

You spot the head of dark hair belonging to your fiance husband through the glass sliding doors leading onto the back porch. Beyond him is a full view of the lake, sparkling under the sun. It’s a deception of warmth but a breathtaking sight nonetheless. 

But nothing compared to Mingyu whipping around at the sound of the door opening with a pleased smile. Until his eyes drop to your bikini. 

“Why are you wearing that?” he asks with a pout. 

Glancing down at the black two piece, you pout back. “I thought you liked this one?”

“I like whatever you wear, but the point of being married is that we can walk around naked as much as we want.”

“We already do that.”

“And it’s one of my favorite traditions,” Mingyu says, resettling across the tub to watch. “Now get that off and get over here. I miss you.”

You reach behind your back, you tug at the string of your top until the knot unravels. As the fabric slackens around your chest, Mingyu’s eyes follow with rapt attention. He’s seen you naked thousands of times but never fails to act like it's the first again. Your nipples peak under his stare, sensitive as the fabric brushes against them as you fling the top to the ground. 

“Now we’re the same,” you say with a coy smile, closing the space to the hot tub in a few short steps.

“Wrong.” He fumbles for a second, hands disappearing under the surface. The water sloshes around as he battles to pull off his shorts and drops them to the deck with a splat. “The only thing I want to see you in are those rings.”

“Mingyu!” you gasp mockingly, ignoring the heat pooling between your legs in favor of dragging out the game. “What if someone sees?”

No one will. The cabins on either side of yours are dark and empty, and most of the houses skirting around the lake are so far away no one could possibly decipher what you two were doing in the shade of the porch awning anyway. 

“Then they’ll see how beautiful my wife is.” 

Blood rings in your ears at the way he says it; fond with a hint of pride. Like he still can’t believe you said yes in the first place. Like it was ever a question if and not when.

Mingyu whines pathetically as you scramble to remove your flimsy bottoms without flourish. It's too cold to stand around and do a full strip tease even if your husband’s eyes burn right through you. They join his swimsuit at the foot of the tub before you slip into the gentle embrace of the water.

Your ass barely meets the seat before Mingyu pulls you into his lap and kisses you. Arms circling around his shoulders, you sink a hand in his hair and tug until he welcomes your tongue. Your thighs straddle across his, bare skin on bare skin only interrupted by the silky feel of water. Even that doesn’t manage to disguise the electricity between your bodies. Or the fact that Mingyu's cock is already hard and waiting for use.

“Mmm. Missed you,” he whispers into the warmth of your cheek before descending across your jaw.

Bones turning to jelly, you melt under his attention like always. Mingyu loves to make you putty with little effort. You tip your chin up to make room for his tongue over the dip between your collarbones. “I was gone for five minutes.”

“Too long.”

He punctuates the complaint with a harsh suck of your nipple. It puckers between his teeth, sensitive and needy for attention. The sting serves as the perfect distraction from his hands sliding lower to palm your ass, fingertips grazing your entrance. 

“Fuck,” you gasp. Your hips search for more pleasure, sinking back until Mingyu stretches you around his knuckles with practice ease. The water washes away any arousal lingering but you won’t give up the prod of thick fingers for a little discomfort.

“Can you say it?”

Even before it became official he loved hearing you say any declaration that he belongs to you: boyfriend, fiance, and now—

“Husband.”

Mingyu groans into your chest as you whisper his new epithet, exploding with renewed vigor across your neglected breast. Indulging in the way his cock twitches against your thigh at the word, you curl your hips into the pressure. It's a difficult choice: Mingyu’s fingers filling you just right or the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit. 

Moving back and forth, the water sloshes over the sides of the tub as you greedily try to keep both. It’s hotter knowing Mingyu gets off on it too; the way you always want more, more of him, his hands, his mouth, his cock. Even rutting across his thigh after he cums until it hurts can make him hard again if you’re enjoying yourself.

Sinking a hand down, you tug at his cock, jerking him off right against your folds. With a tight fist, you crumble Mingyu to pieces with a few short strokes. The effort is rewarded with bites into your bottom lip and a hand at the base of your spine.

“Wait, shit,” he gasps. He’s closer than he wants to be. Clear in the tightness of his shoulders and pinch around his nose. Nothing gets him hotter than the memory of your first time together, when he used you pussy to jerk himself off; coating your panties in his cum. You know he still has a picture from the second time he did it saved on his phone after all these years.

Mingyu’s lips don’t leave yours as he stands, carrying you to the lip of the tub and sitting back down. He doesn’t let you slip to your knees in front of him at first. You’re trapped with lewd kisses and the flex of his fingers into the dip of your waist until he calms. 

“Let,” kiss. “Me,” kiss. “Taste,” teeth. “You.” 

Mingyu bucks into your ass at the offer before letting go. He’s never said no to a blowjob and he won’t start now given how much you like it too. 

But he’s cocky, arms resting on the edge of the tub as he presents the nude visage of his front like a dare. It’s bold given his habit of devolving into a needy mess at the first hint of satisfaction.

Your hand keeps pace while your lips ghost down Mingyu’s neck. His nipples stiffen with quick attention, almost more sensitive than your own but that isn’t your goal right now. Your mouth starts to water when you reach his stomach, tracing the ridges and dips with all the time in the world. 

Just as Mingyu gets the first syllable of protest at the tip of his tongue, you suck him between your lips with cruel enthusiasm.

All the kinks in his armor become the highlights: a coarse lick where he leaks, a tight fist at the base, your other hand cupping lower until he moans loud enough to echo across the lake. For your own sick pleasure, you back away enough to tap him against the flat of your tongue, pink against the tip of his cock, eyes on his until Mingyu is forced to look away or risk painting your face in white far too soon.

“Slow down,” he commands. More of a beg since his head tips back when you take him until the curve of your throat objects. “Fuck–Jesus Christ.”

You arch your spine, ass displayed like a prize. Another one of Mingyu’s weaknesses. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s let you suck him off without reaching over to feel how wet you get from the weight against your tongue. If he chances a look down again (inevitable) you’ve provided a great surprise.

His cock falls from your hold long enough to rasp, “Fuck my mouth.”

At the end of the day, who is Mingyu to deny his wife what she demands for?

Timid with the first thrust like always, Mingyu plants a hand on the back of your head, fingers woven into your hair for his own sanity. You like to surprise him by filling your throat as quickly as possible just to see Mingyu squirm. Nothing makes you blinder to your own limits than his pleasure. But years of taking him make it easy to work around. 

He’s trying. The effort is in the twitch of muscles bracketing your shoulders, the gentle tugs of his fingers, the way Mingyu can barely bite back the flow of curse when you choke around him deep in your throat. Your jaw is already growing sore but no obstacle against the desire to see Mingyu shake.

Then Mingyu does something that shocks you.

Your hand pauses its work under the gentle squeeze of his. Mouth still full, you flash your eyes open to find him staring down in awe. For a second you wonder if it's just because time had been short the past few weeks between wedding planning and traveling. But then he pulls your hand away from his cock and towards your mouth, and you finally realize what caught his attention.

The rings. The plain band that matches the one circling his finger and the special one he spent months trying to keep a secret.

Mingyu kisses across your knuckles, thumb tracing the metal and stone like it’s a wonder. He did the same motion over and over again last night: walking back up the aisle as husband and wife, at the reception as you both greeted guest after guest while glued to each other, in the car ride to the cabin across the center console, before you both fell asleep still fully clothed. 

Without any words, you’re pulled up into his lap for a searing kiss.

“I love you,” he sighs. His tongue slides against yours, slick as he tastes the mess you happily lapped up at his crotch.

“I love you too.”

You feel it. Feel it more than anything in the world. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It shivers down your spine, and blushes across your front. The effect of those three words, simple but so much more, seems almost too much for the daylight just beyond the awning of the porch. 

Out of the water, the cool air prickles along your back, forcing your chest to cave against the cold but Mingyu is there to warm you up with the stretch of his cock. 

You hide the satisfaction in the column of his neck, teeth razing wet across the vein there. He tastes like chlorine and that expensive cologne you jump his bones for. The idea of leaving a bruise like some teenager where everyone can see settles an ache in your core. It’s the first time Mingyu is inside you as your husband and it nearly rips apart the fabric of your being,

In a frenzy, your hips rut before Mingyu can orient himself to the snug feel of your walls. The angle is nothing short of cosmic. Clit rubbing against his pubic bone, cock battering that place inside that makes your joints lock. And the stretch after an unfulfilling glimpse on his fingers only burns you hotter.

The slap of your skin against his is an afterthought, background noise to grunts and groans and pathetic whines that meld between your mouths. In the thick of need, you aren’t even kissing. Just panting into one another’s mouth with narrowed vision. 

Mingyu sinks you lower in his lap with a smooth grind. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Like my husband is trying to get me pregnant.” You go cross eyed from the drag of his thumb against your worn bundle of never. Nothing makes him more desperate to please than the thought of you heavy with his your baby. 

No chance it’ll happen any time soon but the sentiment does wonders.

Another hard thrust threatening to leave you bedridden for the next week.“Fuck—please.”

“You’re mine,” Mingyu groans.

Writhing against his grip, sweat blooms at your brow. You can’t manage to respond with more than a cracked whine. Too focused on the wave rushing across the edges of your senses. 

“There! Fuck! Right there, Gyu.” You come in hot, carried by the rough way Mingyu forces you down his cock again and again. 

Nails biting into his biceps, your insides flutter tight, trying to pull Mingyu deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Full, deep, stretched beyond belief. Eyes cinched, muscles vibrating, you cum on your husband's cock with a broken grunt you’ll remember to be embarrassed about later.

“That's it, take it.” Mingyu coos with an edge. “My pretty fucking girl, my wife. Mine, all mine.”

Your knees hurt and your legs are numb from exertion and a killer orgasm. But you won’t call it until Mingyu gets his fill too.

“Close?” you pant. 

A hand at your throat is the warning, already knowing your plans to goad him to the edge if he isn’t there already. His thumb cocks your chin up so his tongue can lick the words right out of your mouth. 

A few more weak movements spell his ends. Mingyu cums with a grunt. Muscles tense, stomach caved, you scramble for hold under the threat of slipping back into the hot tub from the rushes of his cock to stuff you full with his spend. You’ll be sore tomorrow from the way he forces your thighs wider, until you’re flat against him, taking it deeper.

A sticky mess grows between your legs, warmly welcomed since the last time you felt it weeks ago. A peek between your bodies gets you ready to go again. But you still crave more. Ringed white around the base, Mingyu twitches inside you again when you clench just to tease him. 

“Love you, love you, love you…” Mingyu chants into your mouth until he goes slack with a long huff.

You find rest in his shoulder. Mingyu rubs his cheek against yours, innocent and domestic. He isn’t shy about most things but after you fuck eachother silly he likes to remind the universe its from a place of devotion.

“Marriage looks good on you.” 

“You too.” You smile. “Now take me to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”

“Whatever my wife demands.”

“That's my good husband.” The hand ruffling his hair is quickly snatched away, giving Mingyu the perfect opening to toss you over his shoulder before heading inside.

--

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @bbychocolat

@dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[realcube]

tw // fingering, fem! reader, pet names, alcohol mentions & semi drunk sex

he likes to take care of you when you come home from nights out.

it's cute how your hair is a little messy and make-up is a little smudged. looks like you've had a fun time, and that's what he loves to see. you're still a bit tipsy but even you can tell that reek of alochol and sweat, so you opt to clean up. and of course your caring boyfriends offers his help.

he leads you to the bathroom, while you cling to his shirt and stumble around, causing him to slip a sturdy arm around your waist. he sets you down carefully at the edge of the tub before he starts to run a warm bath. while it fills up, he helps you strip nude, gently tugging off your clothes over your head, laughing together when you get momentarily trapped.

soon, he guides you into the bath and holds both of your hands as he aids you in sitting down. "hot enough?" he asks, and smiles when you nod in confirmation.

picking up a bottle of shower gel, he pours a dollop into his hand and wipes it across your back, rubs it into your shoulders. he continues this process across your front, massaging your tits, then moves to your feet and works his way up to your thighs until you are covered with foamy bubbles.

"my soapy girl." he muses, his hand wnadering from your knees to up between your thighs and he finds himself idly playing with your clit while gazing lovingly into your eyes, enraptured by your peaceful state. how your eyes would drift close but reopen after every loving stroke.

you breath heavily at his lustful touch, melting into it until a sharp gasp is pulled from you when his two fingers slip into your pussy, followed by a quiet yet wanton moan as he slowly begins to move. the water waves and splashes with every soft thrust of his fingers, while he stares at you, fixated on every slight twitch of your features.

"relax, baby, please. i'll take care of you."

suna, akaashi, SUGAWARA, kita, AIZAWA, (pro-hero) kirishima, draken, MITSUYA, kunikida, ranpo, atsushi

[crimsonbubble]

Lathered In Lust

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, kinda pervy yunho, shower sex, size kink, praise, pet play (nicknames), overstimulation *not proofread, just pure horny

[full vers of this 🩷🎀]

It started like any normal shower, but your boyfriend can't seem to leave you alone for longer than two minutes. Now he's got you trapped against his larger frame, his back pressed to your chest as his fingers traced shapes into your hips.

His lips ghosted over your ear, making you turn your head towards him. The heated kiss he sucked your lips into was a mere distraction as he carefully reached for the detachable shower head. Yunho pulled away from your lips with a heavy breath as his eyes looked between your eyes and lips. “Gonna be good for me, pup?”

Yunho knocked your knees apart, rotating through the showerhead's settings. You turned your attention to between your thighs as you watched Yunho angle the rushing water against your clit. Your knees buckled under you, but Yunho was quick enough to pull you tighter against his chest. He let his opposing hand trail between your thighs, lewdly spreading your folds.

The simple action had the rushing water hitting your clit even stronger. You doubled over Yunho’s arm, your clit throbbing as the water pressure abused it. “Aww, feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Yunho chuckled as he tightened his hold on you, pulling you back up to his chest. You can’t get your words out as he brings the showerhead closer to your pulsing cunt, further spreading your folds.

You’re squirming in his hold, pussy clenching desperately around nothing. Stars shoot across your vision as you cum, doubling over again as Yunho circles your clit. “Easy, easy. I’ve got you.” He kisses your temple as he gently moves the showerhead away, letting you lay on the floor of the tub. Yunho moves in front of you, his eyes glued to your spasming cunt.

Yunho spreads your folds again, intrigued by the way your swollen clit twitched and throbbed. Yunho cursed as his cock throbbed between his legs. He takes the showerhead in his hand again, changing the settings before angling it against you. The sudden stimulation was overwhelming but Yunho is truly transfixed on how your pussy clenches around nothing.

His cock sits heavy between his legs and your cute whines aren’t making it any easier. Yunho is dangerously on edge, as he presses the leaking tip of his cock against your swollen pussy. You push back against him, eager to have something, anything fill you up. He pulled your hips down on him with a breathy chuckle, nearly coming then and there as your walls stretched around him. “That’s all you needed, huh, pup?” Yunho moaned lewdly as he watched you pussy suck him in. “You just needed my cock to fill your pretty cunt, hm?”

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mentions of sex , profanity , crying , angst

୨୧˚ an; does anyone even care about this anymore LMDOAOO but for real, i’m sorry for how late this part got out. i am battling severe writers block it is dangling me by the BAWLLSSS,, im thinking that this series is coming to a close soon and i never meant for it to get this deep but here we are 🦝 thank you all for being so patient with me i lob you

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

There was something about thunderstorms that Toji always felt drawn to. They were great; overbearing in a way, rolling through and burying a perfectly fine day under gallons of rainwater and gray skies. Authoritative, condemning humans to take shelter lest they wish to drown in its fruits. Suffering the consequences; soaked-through clothes and sopping hair. He watches the pane of glass at the roof, a skylight barred into the flat of your high rise ceilings. The rain storm had reduced it into nothing but a drab, dusty square, baring the pelts of precipitation like punishment. Toji holds you in your bed. Your weight drapes across his chest like a blanket, your head tucked beneath the cut of his chin.

“Do you like the rain, Toji?”

He felt naked, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. The silken sheets that wrap your mattress were unfamiliar against this flesh, cold and slippery. Regretting the forfeit of pajamas. You two had shared a shower after dinner, of which you held him with all the sentiment in the world. Toji fucking hates when people stand at his back. He doesn’t like it, feeling a presence before seeing them. But he let you stay centimeters behind, working peach and ginger scented shampoo into the roots of his scalp. When he was a boy and his mother had yet to find a place in the Zenin's private graveyard, he vaguely remembers receiving analogous strokes of care from the only family member in his life who didn’t see him as a filthy disgrace. Mom bathed him like this, scrubbing blood and tarnish from his cheeks with a threadbare handkerchief in that tin can he called a tub. All that fucking family money, but a new washcloth or a proper bathtub was never in the cards for him. He remembers mom apologizing often when she washed him.

Toji fucked you in the shower. A difficult means of having sex, sure, but slippery surfaces and soap in the eyes weren’t enough to quell that undying twist of hunger. So he took you against the sleek porcelain wall with his hands shelving beneath the curve of your ass and your legs constricting at his waist. You guided him to a quick orgasm with spouts of hushed praises spoken to his ear; he was certain you didn’t cum, didn’t feel that cute clench you did the first night you two slept together, but you lied and told him you did with a reassuring grin. Why did you lie?

“It’s fine, I guess.” A hand caressed your thigh, the one that was slung over and hiked up onto his stomach. Toji grazed his nails over your flesh, mindless and dejected.

Thunder clapped, then lightning struck, and all Toji could think in the moment was about you and him. Together. Stark nude in bed with limbs entwined. He, the thunder; loud and fierce. Scary, enough to make little children and small animals shake and cower in the corner with fear. You’re more like lightning, he supposes. Elegant and powerful, something so naturally beautiful. 

You will hear thunder and remember me.

More thunder boomed. Toji squeezes your body tighter. “I like that.”

“Like what?” He asks.

You trace wobbly circles against his collar bone, avoiding the slices of silvery skin that raised off the plain of skin. Scars, Toji was doused in gauges. Scraped up head to toe, and he could feel your eyes dart lazily between each and every one of them. “I like the thunder,” comes your reply, followed by a small, bashful shrug. “Ever since I was a kid.”

Toji scoffs. Fuckin’ mind reader. “Liar. Nobody likes thunder.”

“Don’t call me a liar,” you slap his cheek playfully. “I mean it. The quiet can be disturbing sometimes. But to me, thunder is so… human-like? Makes me forget I’m alone.”

This has the man tossing his head back against your feathered pillow. “You’re so full of shit.”

Another stroke of brooding thunder rapped against the window like knock, and if Toji was a believer in the Gods above, he’d curse every last one of them for their shitty comedic timing. You’re giggling into his neck; Toji can feel warm puffs of breath fan over his pulse point. “See?” You ask through a grin. “He came back to yell at you.” He, referring to the crack of thunder. Toji rolls his eyes. Leaves a pinch at your thigh.

“Hey, what did you say before?” Toji walked his fingertips down the curve of your spine, stopping just above your ass. “The fuckin’—the french thing?”

How did it go again? Tu mas something?

It took a moment for you to decipher what he was talking about.

“Tu m'as manqué, Toji?”

Toji bit down on the tip of his tongue, stifling a smile at the grandeur in which you held when speaking the delicate French language. He nods, “what’s it mean?” 

“Means ‘I miss you’.” Is he melting? Liquifying into a disgusting puddle beneath your prying palms, soaking into the bed sheets. You lament over his absence, spitting such pure genuine inflections that Toji is inclined to believe you when you tell him just how much you missed his unlawful presence. Like a stray dog that you offhandedly feed every now and again, praying for its safe and soon return back on your doorstep, digging into the leftover scraps of meat you’ve so kindly plated on the stoop. He’s that washed-up, flea ridden, unabashedly feral mutt that can’t help but crawl back to the idea of home. “I missed you. A lot.”

Toji doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so vulnerable. Not even in the throes of passion when he’d had you spread and wet for him did you sound like this. Small and volatile, yet self-assured all the same. How the fuck do you manage to balance such contrasting notions? A witch, you must be something of the sort. 

There’s a gap of longing silence that fills the room; Toji concludes that you wait for him to return the gesture. So he does, “I did, too.” It’s the cold, hard truth, and he gives it to you on a silver platter. “Thought about you.”

And he’d leave that there. It was a much sweeter sentiment than to admit that he thought about you particularly often in those bloody showers with his hand wrenched around his hard on. Leaves much room for you to wonder. 

You hum. 

More quiet. He is fond of the quiet moments with you. 

“This looks fresh.” Ruined peace. He feels your thumb pad prod ever so gently at the teared flesh of his pec, the same one you used as your own personal pillow. It was inflamed, red and angry unlike the plethora of other battle scars which have now faded into a cooler pinkish tone with time. You were right; it was new. Nothing but a little switchblade slash—one of the men Toji had decimated this past week was armed. It was a careless mistake, one that had no real impact or effect, Hell, he barely felt the paper cut. But it impacted you, he noticed. “Does it hurt?” A fingertip whispers over the wound, and he flinches. 

Not because it’s painful, but because your gingerness made him sick to his stomach. Never more than in this moment did Toji feel so guilty for accepting your tender touches, wishing to holy Hell his conscience would allow him to bite his tongue. To let you keep thinking of him as some down-on-his-luck middle aged man with a shit job and no money to his name. 

“Don’t touch,” it’s quick, the way he snatching your wrist. Sturdy bone crushed under the bruising grip of his shaky fist. He didn’t mean to grab you so roughly. You’re taken aback by the outburst. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a meager apology that doesn’t sound right spilling from your lips. It’s trembly and skittish, and your eyes widen coquettishly to flit between his face and the iron-clad grip that joins you together. “I’m—I should’ve asked you first.”

His breathing pattern was off its axis. Shit, shit what is he doing? Toji let’s go, flinching his hand far from your arm like you burned him. He shakes his head. “Didn’t mean to grab you, I didn’t mean to.” Toji pushes up from the warmth of your bed—from the warmth of you—and scans the floor for his boxers. 

You reluctantly part from him, gathering the blanket up over your chest as a makeshift barrier between bare flesh and the chilled air-conditioned bedroom. “What are you doing, Toji?” You sound sad. He finds his boxers. They’re balled up, discarded on the far end of your too-fucking-gigantic bedroom. “Toji!”

He keeps his back toward you, mechanically stepping into his underwear and dragging them up over his hips. It’s fucking gross, feeling the crunch of dried semen as the fabric contorts, but it’s ultimately ignored. “Thanks for dinner, you’re a fuckin’ A chef.” Toji spots his sweatpants nearby. 

“You got that new cut at work.” You’ve made a power move to ditch the comforter, stepping down into the carpet wearing nothing but your birthday suit. The tone of yours shifts, a steep incline from sweet and patient to demanding and accusatory, and Toji doesn’t like that one fucking bit. His sweatpants on, he tosses you a glance over his shoulder. 

“It was an accident.”

“Is that right?” Your brows furrow, gesturing to his torso. His marred, battered, abused torso. “Just covered in accidents then?”

Now he faces you, looks you in the eyes despite your naked form. “Pretty much.” Each lie tastes acidic, like that soupy bile he spits out before vomiting. “Thanks for dinner.” He makes an attempt to stalk past to the door, foregoing the shirt because he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. Probably lost in a forgotten corner of your room, and with the way his heart raced against his rib cage, Toji wasn’t sure he’d survive long enough in this stuffy room to find it. So he thanks you again with an air of finality, only to be stopped. Your hand is flat against the center of his chest, pressed over the beat of his heart. No doubt about it, he’s sure you can feel that manic tempo. 

Beat, beat, beat. 

“I really thought we were getting somewhere.” You start quietly, voice hovering just above a whisper. His eyes stay fixed on the tiny hand that has glued itself to his sternum. “I thought we… I thought… I don’t fucking know, okay?

I like you. I like you so much, Toji.”

I like you too. “I…” like you I like you I like you. 

“Don’t feel like you have to reciprocate anything. These are complicated feelings, I know that. It’s a lot to spring on a person, but it’s the truth. I’m giving you my truth, and I need you to do the same because I don’t know if I can take another week of you disappearing for however long only to return like… like this!” You gesture to the red gash. “I care about you, and I want to help you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, but you make it so fucking difficult.”

It felt as though every saliva particle had been vacuumed out of his mouth, leaving a dry desert plain for a tongue. He's never been so at a loss for words before, you actually rendered him speechless. Finally, finally, after a minute of gaping like a stupid fish out of water, Toji finds his bearings. 

“You’re a good person, Y/n.” He peels your hand off him. “And I’m not.” Toji moves to disconnect hands, but yours follows him, clamping them back together. He can’t find the strength to let go, knowing good and well that his palm was clammy as shit. 

Your brows pinch, knitting with confusion at the seemingly random proclamation. “I mean, sure you can be kind of a dick sometimes, but I don’t think—”

You don’t understand. So unscathed by the bleakness of this world, your definition of a bad person is someone who’s ’kind of a dick sometimes.’ Toji’s frown deepens, and he shakes his head, bangs bouncing with the movement. Your fancy conditioner made his hair feel soft against his forehead. “That’s surface level shit. You don’t understand what I’ve done.” 

“So tell me—”

“I can’t.” The word cracks in his throat, and he coughs around it. Choking on it like he did your pretty fingers in the kitchen. “Don’t you get that? If it was that easy…”

“Tell me.” Your voice grows calm, yet stern. Aggressive in the gentlest of ways, coaxing the truth to light. Arms crossed over your bosom, you jut a chin in Toji’s direction. “Because I’m really sick and fucking tired of you treating me like I’m incapable of comprehension. I’ll understand.”

You won’t. He knows you won’t. 

Time grows slow and thick like molasses; Toji feels caught in the midst of an unwinnable battle. Either direction he takes—to come clean, to dance around the truth some more, to lie—will only serve to worsen things to an unfortunate degree. He stalls. Scratches at his jagged jaw dusted with faint stubble. Then, he paws over the masculine plates of his abdomen, feeling his own flesh. There isn’t any warmth to him anymore. Every ounce of humanity had leaked from Toji’s soul, leaving him to become this cold, withering husk of a man. 

When his mouth finally peels open, it takes effort. Like his teeth had been welded together by one of those chewy caramel-coated candies Shiu keeps in his glove compartment. 

“I’m a killer.”

A strange sensation splashed over Toji. Maybe it was relieving to finally share that tidbit of himself, to get his shame out in the open and off his chest. His shoulders felt a little lighter, his joints felt a little looser. This high didn’t last forever, though, and soon he was plummeting back down to Earth when your horror-stricken voice shook in his ears. 

“That’s not a funny joke.”

“Wouldn’t joke. Not about that.” He swirls the built-up saliva in his mouth.

Your eyes were wide, never leaving him. “You… you kill people? For money?”

Begrudgingly, “yes.”

You sputter. “How do you expect me to believe something so—so unimaginable?” Your brows sewed themselves, drawn close in absolute bewilderment. Hinging on the cusp between puking and laughing in his stupid face. “This is insane, Toji.”

He scoffs quietly. “Ain’t fuckin’ lying woman.” No saccharine ma’am. “Wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I had to fight to live.” A low blow, but you didn’t seem to take it to heart, far too distracted by your own disturb. 

Toji wasn’t prepared for how much this was going to hurt. The disgusted way you looked at him, something you’d never ever done before, made him barely able to contain his quiver. He deserves every morsel of your animosity, but knowing he deserved it didn’t make it any less painful. Toji felt you scanning, analyzing every scar wedged into his torso. His arms. His neck. His face. He sees you making connections, noticing healed-over bullet wounds and knife attacks for what they were: hideous. He watches you make connections, visualizing a new scenario for each scar; for each life he’s taken and how they desperately fought back against him for mercy. Toji’s body bears the story of hundreds of deaths, and you look sick to your stomach at the realization of what he truly is. 

An ugly monster. 

“Oh my God.” You’re hushed, speaking to yourself. “How many people, Toji?”

He grimaced. “I lost count.”

“Oh my God…” Your hand is pressed to your hairline, and you look exasperated to all Hell. Crazed, maybe. As though he’d just rocked your entire world.

Toji interjects with unnecessary commentary. “I told you. I said you would never understand.”

“No, n-no I understand plenty.” Then, you smile, but it’s not one you’d ever bore to Toji before. It lacks any kindness. It’s empty and unloving. “You’re a murderer.”

He winces. Killer and murderer were synonymous, but for some odd reason being called a murderer was a different type of wrench to the gut. “Yeah.” Toji nods. For the right price, he has slaughtered, fucked, and even sold a few peripheral organs. Because money is everything. Money is food. Money is shelter. Money is life itself. But money isn’t you. 

“Get the fuck out of my home.”

You look terrified of him. Toji is frozen stiff.

“I said go! Fucking leave!” Suddenly, you're rushing to collect your crumpled outfit from the floor, feeding your limbs through the small pair of panties and that oversize bed shirt. Amongst the frenzy to get dressed, you snatch your phone from the bedside table and frantically scrawl over the screen with clumsy fingers. Toji sees tears track down your cheeks, they glint from the light emanating off the cellphone. “Or I’ll call the police.”

And turn in what evidence? He’s too good at what he does, Toji doesn’t leave paper trails behind. But he lets you think you have the power to get him in cuffs. You’re already so frightened, clinging to your phone with trembling hands.

“Go ahead. Call them.” His words are lifeless. Lifeless with a touch of irritation. Spat with malice because you would never understand the life he lives, despite how much you’ve preached to him that you would. You teased him, dangling this idea of a normal life in front of his face. One without lies and secrecy, just you and him and this almighty penthouse. This would more than likely be the last exchange between the both of you, the last time Toji would ever look you in the eyes again, and it angered him. All good things have expiration dates. “You know where I live.”

“Just… Fucking leave.” Christ, you were shaking like a leaf. Was it out of fear? Or anger, maybe? Probably a combination of both. Toji gets a few more seconds of stillness in, spent entirely on gulping down eyefuls of you. Even now, face twisted up and cheeks wet from tears, you look so fucking gorgeous. His savior, the one who showed him how to feel again. 

“Okay.” 

He collects himself, puts on a presence of nonchalant coolness. Like walking out of your bedroom wasn’t the most difficult thing he’s had to do in years. Never-minding the shirt, he walks to the door without sparing a glance back over his shoulder. 

Toji leaves. It’s raining, and he is shirtless and sopping wet. Thunder rumbles. 

You will hear thunder and remember me. 

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[bunnys-kisses]

bear den (2)

bear!john price

cw: hybrid au, bear!price, bunny!reader, pregnancy, smut/pwp, scenting, protective!price, couch sex, mating press, mentions of childbirth

part 1

as the snow melted off the roof, the promise of spring was upon you. price was as cuddly as ever. his large hand on your growing belly and his nose in the nape of your neck.

your bear lover, you'd consider him your husband without all the paperwork. he was a protective lover, he cared for you very deeply. even when he was half asleep as winter started to melt away.

it was morning in march when you got out of bed and scampered over to the shower. as much as you loved price, he was a messy lover. his cum was still stuck in your hair. he said it was in an effort to 'mark' you as if the growing cub wasn't enough proof.

you stood naked by the tub as you waited for the water to warm up. you caught a glimpse of your side profile in the mirror and looked at yourself curiously. it wasn't as if you had never seen yourself in the mirror before, but rather the changes to your body were already settling in. you straightened up a little and rubbed your slowly swelling middle.

your eyes cast down to your bump as you rubbed it gently. sometimes you couldn't believe that there was price's child inside of you. it made you smile to yourself before you got into the shower.

the warm water felt good against your body as you stood under the spray. despite how isolated the cabin was, it was home. price had completely renovated his den, everything still had a charm to it but nothing was falling apart.

you washed yourself, using his soap. you got under your pregnant belly and heard the door to the bathroom open. you peeked through the curtain and saw your mate. you smiled at him, "good morning, honey."

he nodded, he seemed a little more lucid, "let me help." he was naked already, you could see every inch of your lover. from the hair that coated him, to his built body with a bit of softness to it. his broad shoulders and scratchy facial hair.

"i can do it myself, john."

he shook his head as he got into the shower. he made a pleased noise when a bit of the warm water hit him. he stood under the spray of water with both hands on your belly from behind. "you look good." he said as his thumb rubbed the side.

"i'm only going to get more pregnant with time." you replied.

he kissed your wet hair and replied, "good." you felt his cock start to stiffen against your back. he took the bar of soap from you and started to wash your back. while he was cleaning the front of you (that you already cleaned) he got a good squeeze of your breasts.

"john!'

"sorry, love. can't help it." he purred. when he finished washing you, you washed him. you were turned to face him and his hands were on your bump as you ran the bar across his hairy chest.

you loved his body as much as he loved yours. he was so strong but still able to cuddle him. the hair on his chest and stomach, across his arms and down his legs left you feeling tingly all over. this was your husband, your mate, your lover.

he leaned down do you could wash his hair. and he did the same for you, once you were done your shower and out of the tub. he pinned you against the sink counter. his nose dipped into your neck and rubbed his cheek against the skin.

"john!"

"gotta get my scent on you."

you held onto the sink behind you and replied, "you possessive old man."

he replied, "gotta be. little bunnies like you can get into a life of trouble." he kissed your neck all the way to your cheek before he settled on your lips. his calloused, workman's hands touched your torso.

you giggled into the kiss and when he pulled away he gave you a short nod before he dried the both of you off. now that you were clean, it was time to get dirty again.

usually your place for mating was in the bedroom, it reeked of hibernation scent and your love making. you knew it would take a lot of washing of the entire room before it scent wasn't so overwhelming. but instead he made love to you on the old couch in the living room.

you were seated on the soft cushions, price pulled you legs up and closer to your head, exposing your cunt to him. a perfect angle for him to sink his cock into. it was a little odd due to your pregnancy, but when price slipped in with ease. you felt the stars behind your eyes.

"that's it. that's my baby girl." his voice was low and his pace methodical. he knew how much stronger he was compared to you. bears and bunnies often didn't mingle, so john had to be gentle with you.

his bear ears gave a small twitch when he felt his cock throb inside of you. your pussy was a tight heat around him that made him so thankful that you snuck into his cabin. he gave you a home and he into turn made your pussy his home.

he admired your body, he watched those little bunny ears twitch. he smiled down at you, "like that? knowin' how deep i am inside of you. knowin' that i bred and kept ya? soon you'll be chasin' a cub around our little home."

you had your hands on your belly as he thrusted into you. you felt heat bloom in your chest. you admired your lover over you, you watched how his body moved and it made the pleasure seep into your blood.

"i love you."

"i love you too." he replied, his voice full of warmth as he held onto your legs for support. he squished you a little in the press he had you in, but it felt really good.

price loved having you in a good mating press. where he could put his weight onto you, show how strong he was as he bullied his cock into your pussy.

his breathing was heavy as he continued to thrust into you. you could see the rise and fall of his chest as he moved. the air of the living room grew warmer with your love making. you felt like you were on another planet, the pleasure throbbed in your head the more it built.

you held onto the couch under you and your eyes closed for a moment as you tried to catch you breath. the sounds of sex filled the entire cabin as a bunny and her mate made love on the threadbare couch.

this was their home, their slice of paradise. you reached for him and leaned up to kiss him. he met you half way with a curve of his back and pressed a searing kiss onto your lips. his kisses were promises, he would never turn his back on his mate.

you were bound together until the sun engulfed the earth. husband and wife, bear and bunny.

the ache in your pussy felt good, your head swam with pleasure. you held onto your lover as he kissed you deeply. heat set into your gut. your pussy so exposed to him. you gave yourself over to him, as his mate and let him breed you.

when he pulled away he said, "you're my good girl aren't ya." he kissed at your sweaty face, "my good wife. my good mate. the mother to my cubs. perfect woman." he beamed at you.

it didn't take long afterwards for the heat of orgasm to wash over you. you kicked out your little bunny legs and tensed up as you came around his cock. a noise left price's mouth as you clamped down on him. it was guttural, primal in a way. you dug your nails into his shoulders as you climaxed.

your head felt even more full as started to relax. but price kept you in position and continued to batter your pussy. the grip it had on you was amazing. it left him in a state of shock. with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you.

"ah fuck." he grumbled as his pace staggered and slowed down.

you laid there on the couch, your legs were soon back on the hardwood floor. price's cum leaked onto the fabric of the couch. but you were lost in your own wonderland to notice it.

price stared down at you, cock limp between his legs. his breathing was shallow as he tried to cool down. the bear picked up his bunny lover with ease, and placed kisses on your face. you fit so nicely in his strong arms as he carried you back to bed.

after all he needed to make sure that his scent was deep in your skin that no shower could ever get rid of it. he stuck his nose in your wet hair and inhaled deeply.

his mate. his lover. his everything.

-

on august tenth, in the comfort of your cabin. you gave birth to your first child. with a lot of support from your husband, you had your son, oliver. he had two round bear ears and the brown bear tail of his father. it took over ten hours to deliver him.

"i got ya love, keep at it." price assured you as your labour went well into the evening. but the end result was your son.

you spent all spring and summer pregnant with him. and now he was in your arms. you saw how price admired your body post-pregnancy. the softness of your bottom and post partum tummy. he also admired how you were so attentive to his son.

while he did most of the work around the garden and caught (full) animals for meals, your responsibility was to make sure that you healed from the nine months of pregnancy and caring for your newborn son.

while he tended to vegetable patch, he often got distracted by the sight of you in the reclining lawn chair with oliver close to your chest. the baby was wrapped in a thin blanket and pressed against your bare chest. you were still nude more days, but when you dressed it was mostly in price's clothes.

he watched as you gazed at your son. it was so motherly. it was endearing to price was getting a little harder in his coveralls. he had a family, he started on with the bunny who came into his home.

there was one thing he noticed post-pregnancy about you. it wasn't how hungry you were or how your body had changed. it was that his scent lingered, you no longer smelled like the intruder bunny who snuck into his cabin.

you smelt like him through and through.

[headspace-hotel]

because I'm thinking about sustainability, I'm trying to understand why USAmerican houses are so large

I don't just mean McMansions, I also mean why regular houses and especially newer houses are so huge in proportion to the amount of living space they seem to provide. When I look at the square footage of the house it seems like a lot, but when I look inside at what it has to offer, it seems impossible to get rid of any of the individual things inside without impacting quality of life for the residents, and this is puzzling, since I know there are significantly smaller houses that are perfectly fine to live in.

So I have been looking at floor plans for various houses of various sizes and it seems a major problem is that the design of houses is just terrible.

I hate it so much. At first it doesn't look like there's anything wrong with it. But examine how efficiently the space is being used. From this perspective, it's a cursed and evil garbage fire.

So much space is taken up by doors to things that don't need doors. Why do you have a walk-in pantry with a door on it? Why do you have a laundry room 4 times the size of the washer and dryer with a door on it? A simple curtain would look nicer and doesn't need 10sqft extra to allow the door to swing open.

An additional large amount of space is taken up by awkward hallways that wouldn't need to exist if the arrangement of the rooms had been thought out better. There is a short little hallway to reach the garage because the pantry and half-bathroom are in the way, which branches off from a hallway that exists to reach...the laundry room, which is made 2x as big as necessary so the hallway can connect to it where it is wedged in the depths of the house.

The master bathroom has a tub AND a shower AND two sinks which makes it weird to have a half-bathroom right next to the master bedroom. It's hoarding all the bathroom amenities?? There's also a pretty big room that isn't labeled that is only accessible from the master bathroom. Walk-in closet? Sex dungeon?

(Why do walk-in closets exist? It's just an extra room with shelves in it. You can put shelves in a regular room.)

The other two bedrooms are really small and have another weird hallway to reach them, which could have been part of the bedrooms themselves. The closet labeled "linen" opens directly into the hallway and is on the other side of the house from the laundry room.

My dad remodeled houses for a living when I was a kid and this thing looks like it would be pure evil to run plumbing through...

[adragonprinceswhore]

Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory. 

You don’t want to think about him. 

Thinking about him always leads to missing him. 

It leads to longing for him. 

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind. 

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips. 

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. 

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively. 

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you. 

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh. 

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you. 

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same. 

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now. 

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear. 

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh. 

You shiver. 

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction. 

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen. 

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible. 

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting. 

The only way you knew him. 

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much. 

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to. 

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in. 

You were convenient. 

Pliable. 

An easy fuck. 

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away. 

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance. 

Not even a friend. 

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep. 

To him, you were an acquaintance. 

Pathetic. 

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since. 

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend. 

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family. 

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away. 

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch. 

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else. 

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness. 

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere. 

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver. 

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart. 

Aemond never said it. 

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it. 

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you. 

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother. 

Fucking prick. 

Today’s Friday. 

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty. 

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music. 

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks. 

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic. 

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration. 

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here. 

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here. 

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut. 

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to? 

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic. 

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies. 

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him. 

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea. 

Calling you in. 

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him. 

What do you say? 

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes. 

His gaze is cold and stoic. 

Unimpressed. 

He raises an expectant eyebrow. 

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic. 

Pathetic.

Pathetic. 

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you. 

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful. 

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it. 

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.  

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well. 

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know. 

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat. 

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask. 

Any sensible person would get out. 

But you can’t. 

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch. 

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars. 

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before. 

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place. 

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you. 

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” 

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.  

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared. 

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you? 

“What happened to your boyfriend?” 

How does he know about that? 

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right” 

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm. 

The harshness of his stare falters, 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Did you miss me?” 

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it. 

The harshness reappears. 

“Did he fuck you the way you like?” 

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before. 

Your drunk mind works without you operating it, 

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become. 

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion, 

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time? 

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him? 

No. 

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before  harshly cupping your cunt. 

A startled gasp espaces your lips. 

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.  

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet? 

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible. 

“Still a little slut for me”  

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him. 

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher, 

Arousal? 

Fury? 

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again. 

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart. 

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?” 

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer. 

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer. 

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release. 

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you. 

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face, 

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline. 

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out. 

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again. 

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you. 

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it? 

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” 

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip. 

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it. 

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway. 

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you. 

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare. 

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap. 

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all. 

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness. 

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his. 

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move. 

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you. 

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him. 

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him. 

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday. 

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again” 

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before. 

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him, 

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him” 

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff. 

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond. 

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it. 

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about Bakugou who hates when you shower after sex. Because to him it feels like you’re washing the scent of him off your skin, and wasting the copious amounts of spunk that now disappear down the drain. Cleaning your body with that expensive body scrub that has him going insane as he watches you clean away every bit of evidence that he was balls deep inside you barely ten minutes ago. If he had it his way you’d keep his cum buried deep inside you, clinging to your silky walls as a reminder that every inch of you is his. Your body doused in the lingering scent of his cologne, sweat and his quirk to ensure that if anyone dared to get too close they’d know exactly what it meant.

Which is why Bakugou loves when you use his deodorant, shampoo, shower gel or creams because it means you’ll smell like him for the rest of the day. Silently letting everyone know that you belong to him without having to say a word, the scent of him lingering on your skin as a deadly reminder to anyone that you have a man at home.

He’ll never admit to hiding your products, or dousing his own body in a little too much of your fruity body scrub or vanilla cream after a shower. Not that he minds, he loves the scent of you lingering on his skin too— just enough to have his cock half mast as he wraps a palm doused with your fruity shower gel around his length.

Hearing you shout at him from the bedroom when you’ve just waddled into the bathroom after sex that— “it’s so expensive Katsuki, you used all of it!” So now you have no choice but to use his instead. Picking up your deodorant to put it into his gym bag before you notice so you’re forced to spray yourself with his musky scent.

Offering to help cream your soft body when you step out of the shower dressed in nothing but a fluffy towel, perching your foot on his thigh so he can caress his cream into your skin. Peppering apologetic kisses against your skin as he promises to buy you more, while simultaneously breathing in the scent of him mixed with you.

But that doesn’t mean Bakugou is any better— Bakugou loves being surrounded in the scent of you too.

You’ve lost count of the number of times he’s returned home battered and bruised, covered in a thick layer of sweat and grime as he begs you to run him a bath— because somehow your baths are always better than his. Coaxing you into the tub behind him as he surrounds himself in the scent of you.

He’s shameless after sex, refusing to shower as he watches you disappear into the bathroom, wanting to keep the lingering scent of you stuck to his skin for as long as possible. Only joining you in the shower when the thought of you naked, wet and soapy is too much to bear.

He doesn’t even care when he pulls out a bottle of your fruity gels at the agency when he takes a long shower, listening to his friends and sidekicks mocking him for using such ‘girly’ products. Because how could he care when he smells like you.

[another-lost-mc]

Shower Thoughts: Their bathing habits, with and without you.

Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader

NSFW // Content: Domestic fluff and non-explicit smut. Sharing a bath/shower together; sexual and non-sexual touching; mentions of teasing, semi-public sex (showering together in the RAD locker room), penetration (Reader receiving).

A/N: Shaking off the rust. I blame the new Nightmare cards by the way. I wanted to write this for the OCs and figured I should show some of the others some love too. Like always, my fav bias is showing. (Most of Asmo's section is based on things that occur in the bath scene of Desperation.)

LUCIFER

Showering is part of his morning routine - he wants to look and feel his best, his pride won't settle for anything less. (Plus, it helps wake him up for mornings when coffee alone won't do the trick.)

Baths are a rare luxury for him. Ideally, he'll have the house (and your company) all to himself so he can soak in the fragrant bubbles without worrying about what his brothers are getting up to.

(The fact that they're not home and loose in the Devildom is just as worrying, please try to distract him.)

He's not against the idea of shower sex, but it can be cramped and awkward. He would rather tease you with gentle, lingering touches that leave you both a little hot and desperate before leading you to bed where he can enjoy you properly. He's surprisingly unconcerned about getting his bedsheets wet when it means having you naked and willing underneath him as soon as possible.

MAMMON

Mammon usually showers at night. He'd rather have the extra time to sleep in the mornings before class. If he has to work or has a photoshoot, he's definitely showering before bed - he and his bedding are a mess from sticky, gel-caked hair and the eye makeup he didn't remove properly if he doesn't.

He doesn't usually take baths - too boring, too slow - but if you like taking baths...well.

Whether he's in the shower with you or the tub with you, he's open for anything and everything you might want to do. Even an innocent suggestion for a romantic shower or bath together turns dirty quickly when his eyes and hands start to roam across so much exposed, wet skin.

LEVIATHAN

For a self-proclaimed otaku, his showering habits aren't that bad.

Sure, maybe before you came along, he spent less time worrying about his grooming and personal hygiene and more time worrying about his idols' stream schedules and pre-sale ticket dates for the various movies or concerts he wanted to see.

However, you're here now and you're important to him, so whether he wants to admit it or not, that changes things. If he wants you to hang out in his room for hours at a time gaming or binge-watching anime, both him and his room need to be in guest-ready shape.

He showers more often when he's been cooped in his room on the sofa or in his fashionable-but-not-functional gaming chair that makes his back sweat. Even a quick cool-off rinse in the shower is enough to leave him looking and feeling refreshed which is perfect - he hopes he can convince you to cuddle with him in his tub after.

Maybe it's his natural affinity for water, but he enjoys showering or bathing equally. It's tricky when most tubs aren't big enough for him to spread out with his tail out too, but thankfully they're big enough for you to fit in the tub with him which is just as good - better, even!

He's shy with you in the shower or tub. He prefers to stand behind you so he's not tempted to stare at your chest (or lower). No one touches him as gently or with more care as you do. And the way you run your hands along the scales of his tail or his neck...he's going to try and hide his twitching erection from you and hope you don't say anything if you notice it. He can't help how good you make him feel, but he's not always confident enough to return the favour.

If you want him to touch you, you'll probably have to explicitly ask him to - and wouldn't you know it, your hands resting on his while you guide them to move over your body is one of many acts of intimacy he ends up craving from you.

SATAN

He showers in the morning. He's one of the few student council members that wears his uniform properly and I think he wants the rest of him to look and smell good too.

He enjoys a nice bath once in a while. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but they're a semi-regular part of his routine. He can load up the bath tray with a book, even a cup of coffee or snack if he's feeling peckish that night; time passes in a blue as he soaks away some of the stress that burdens him. If you join him for a bath, he'd love to read to you or simply hold you against his chest while music streams from his D.D.D. nearby.

Showers are useful if he's in a rush, or maybe he just wants to rinse off the day's grime (especially if he was at the club or in a fight). Or perhaps he's not in a rush after all, judging by the way he ushers you into the bathroom with him and tugs at your clothing so you can join him under the warm spray.

Whether he simply wants to melt under your fingers as you work suds into his hair and across his body, or if your naked body so close to his is too much temptation to ignore, know that you're probably the only one who gets to see him - all of him - exposed this way.

ASMODEUS

It's no secret that the Avatar of Lust adores his private bathroom, with its high ceiling and numerous cupboards full of fluffy towels and bottles full of the most expensive haircare and body wash and massage oils that Grimm can buy.

His luxurious tub - if you can call it that, considering it's bigger than any hot tub you've ever been in before - is full of fragrant, crystal-clear water that Asmo adds scented oils and skin-softening potions to. No matter how long you bathe together, the water remains clean and warm (there's a handy spell for that).

Asmo loves the intimacy of pampering you and having you do the same for him. It's almost magical, the way he massages you with slow, rhythmic strokes as he washes you with beauty products he personally selects. He considers your preferences above his own so that everything he brings into the bath is scented with your favourite fragrant notes. If you share his bed that night, he can smell you on his pillow and sheets long after you've parted ways.

Naturally, once he's spent his time spoiling you with his tender touches and whispered affection, he's desperate to have your hands on him next.

Bathing doesn't always have to lead to more than soft, teasing touches. He's not against the idea - it wouldn't be the first time his fingers teased between your legs while he nuzzled the back of your neck and nipped at your ear - but this sort of comfort is like divinity to him. It's a sort of worship he offers you that he's offered no one else before, and no matter how much the outside world demands your attention (or his), this is one rare opportunity where you can truly be alone together.

BEELZEBUB

Beel's shower routine is fairly simple. 1. Shower after Fangol practice or games. 2. Shower after eating at a buffet-style restaurant. 3. Shower before bed if nothing else applies.

Of course, Beel learns that there's a certain charm to showering with you too. He used to complain the communal shower he shares with his siblings is a bit too cramped for his liking, and with you it's even worse, but that's simply a convenient excuse to press himself against you while he hardens against your back, or he cages you against the wall while his arms block everything else from view.

(The open showers in the locker room at the Fangol pitch are fun in their own way when post-victory showers with Beel turn frisky from giddy excitement and too much adrenaline to burn.)

Showering is simply a part of his routine, but like most things he does, Beel thinks they're more enjoyable when he can entice you to join him.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie's not necessarily lazy - he just prefers to spend his time and energy doing things that are important to him. It's not his fault if that very short list can be summarized as sleeping and spending time with you.

Sleeping is most comfortable when he's clean from the day's sweat and smells - the last thing he wants to do is ruin the attic's cozy little nest by crawling into bed smelling like anyone else but him and you. That means if he's going to shower before bed, he's dragging you with him if you haven't had one already.

Belphie might not be lazy, but that doesn't mean he won't use every trick in the book to convince you to touch him and pamper him as much as possible. He whines that he's too sleepy to fiddle with all the buttons of his RAD blazer, and he smirks like a satisfied cat while you huff at his ridiculousness and help undress him anyway.

(He knows you indulge him because you like it too - did you think he wouldn't notice the way your eyes roam his bare chest or the way your fingers twitch excitedly when you reach for his belt?)

Shower or bath sex is a bit messy and not as relaxing as he would like - the tiles are hard and cool against your back, it's hard to prep you properly in the tub as water sloshes against the sides and spills over the floor. It's inconvenient and not the sexiest experience in his opinion.

However. The shower is an excellent place to tease you with an innocent pout on his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Lips trail lazily along whatever bare, wet skin they can reach while greedy fingers prepare you for something bigger once you're finally in bed together, moving together lazily in the sheets and putting off cleaning the mess until morning.

(And even if Belphie gets a little carried away in the shower as he stretches you with his fingers or his mouth, or possibly his cock if he's that riled up, the clean-up has never been easier.)

Read more: Obey Me! Masterlist