#the way he’s just passed out in the tub gets me every time

[mcducky1356]

I just watched the 1990 movie for the first time, so now I’m redrawing some scenes with the Rise boys!

[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.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Post!prision!Reid seeing his daughter for the first time after he gets out 🥹 he gets so emotional because he can finally hold his baby again!

OMG OMG OMG!!!! can you imagine how teary he'd be!! post!prison dad!spencer x mom!reader, I hope you enjoy <3

You wish you could’ve been with the team at the prison, see him come out there in person, but you’re still on bedrest with your baby girl. Georgia is only a couple weeks old, but she’s so much Spencer’s twin- the same unruly curls, the same nose and the same want of you. 

You’d written all about her in your letters to Spencer, describing every feature he’s going to see today in so much detail you were sure he would see her clearly in his mind. 

“Honey?” He doesn’t shout lest he wake his daughter as he walks in, his fingers twitching with the need to see both of you. 

“I’m on the sofa baby,” it’s almost as if he was never gone. You lean over the sofa to see him pass through the kitchen, his hands holding a small bag. “I’m sorry I can’t stand to kiss you, Spence.” 

He tuts, leaning down over you, “Nonsense, how’re you feeling?” His eyes flit over to the cot beside you, roving over your daughter before settling back on you. 

“Like I missed you longer than you’ve been gone.” You’re waterlogged immediately and Spencer rounds the sofa to pull you into him. 

“I missed you too,” his lips press into your temple, “God I missed you both so much.” Tears wet your hairline but you can’t seem to care, Spencer’s home and he’s able to see your baby girl together. What more could you want?

“I brought you some snacks, I figured you hadn’t been able to get any of your cravings.” He says gently, opening a bag to show you all the chocolate malt balls, the yoghurt raisins and the nuts you’d just run out of. “I got something for Georgia too.” 

“Spence,” you gasp when you see the orange stuffed octopus that he pulls out, it’s just as big as Georgia is now. He wipes the tears that fall on your cheeks, kissing your nose before opening the tub of nuts for you. “Seventh smartest animal in the world.” you recall softly. 

“Can I hold her?” He asks finally and you nod, watching him stand and hover over the bassinet. 

“Just scoop her up Spence, she’s going to be so happy you’re home.” 

Spencer doesn’t say a word, practically holding his breath as he does as you say- scooping Georgia up in record time and holding her close to his chest. There’s a moment right after she wriggles a bit when she settles and Spencer feels an ungodly wave of emotion crash into him.

Of course, he’d read that men only feel like fathers the moment they hold their babies, and everyone had told him (everyone being Derek and JJ) that you can’t control the way your heart kind of cracks open to make room for this new love, but he still hadn’t expected it to be so immediate and visceral. 

“Hi Georgia,” he whispers, his tears rolling down the bridge of his nose as he strokes her cheek. “Hi sweet girl.” You’re enamoured already, looking at Spencer holding your daughter like she’s made of fine China. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were born, baby. But I promise I’m not missing anything else where you’re concerned.” 

Tears pool in your eyes as your daughter wakes up, no crying or wailing, just small coos and gurgles as she looks at Spencer. 

“It’s your daddy, Georgia.” You murmur, sniffling and wiping your eyes as Spencer hiccups as she reaches for his face, her little fist bumping into his jaw.

Her almond eyes stare up at him, blinking all slow as she takes him in. Then she smiles, as if she's put a face to the man who spoke to her every night, telling her all the facts he'd read and learnt about babies, animals and whatever soothing topic he could find to tell her while she lived in your belly.

“Your mom lied to me, you look just like her.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as Spencer gives you a little glare. “Those eyes are all her, Peach. Maybe you won’t get your daddy’s brain either- it’s no fun being smart and getting beat up.” You throw a cashew at Spencer then, making him chuckle and come sit beside you. 

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You whisper, stroking Georgia’s cheek as you press yours into Spencer’s bicep. 

“I’m happy to be back, angel.” his eyes remain transfixed to Georgia all day, holding her and touching her foot when he can’t because you have to feed her. Spencer thinks to himself that he’d live through prison a thousand times over if every time he gets out, he can come back to this moment, to the peace and serenity in your home with you and your little girl and the life you’d made together colouring every wall of the house.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

trust me, kiddo

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, dddne (tagging just in case), drowning, head dunking, suffocation, noncon/dubcon, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mention of fingering, use of kid/kiddo/slut/whore/bitch, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare

your hands try to get some sort of grasp on the smooth marble counter, eyes glossed over as you look in the mirror over your shoulder.

rafe smirks when he sees your eyes on him, forcing his hips even faster as you grip the edge of the sink, fingers digging into the porcelain so hard you're worried it'll break.

“p-please.” you manage to force out, body shaking every time rafe pushes his cock all the way inside you, so deep at this angle.

“please what kid?” rafe questions, his voice deep and hoarse from fucking you, having walked in on you naked in the bathroom, bathtub filled with warm water, ready for you to soak in. “please stop? please keep going?” 

“i… i don't know.” you admit. rafe pumping his cock into you certainly feels good, but at the same time you're so overwhelmed with pleasure, sure that your legs are soon to give out, even with rafes hands on your hips, helping you stay standing.

“already dumb on my cock baby?” rafe laughs. “but i just started fucking you!”

it's somewhat true, rafe has only been inside you for a few minutes now, but he's been teasing you all day, fingering you just to stop right before your orgasm, letting you ride his thigh only to push you off before you could reach your high.

“i can't.” you whine, feeling your knees wobble. 

“you better, bitch.” rafe grunts, cock digging so deep inside of you that you swear he's bruising your cervix with every thrust.

you try, holding it together only for a few more seconds before your legs crumple, sending you to the ground, rafes cock slipping out of your wet hole. you land on your hands and knees on the cold white tile.

“baby.” rafe groans, his tone anything but sweet, the bite of anger in his voice.

“im sorry.” you whine. “it was too much.”

rafe grabs your waist, dragging you across the floor until you can put your hands on the side of the tub. you try to push yourself up to standing, but your tired legs don't get your knees off the floor.

“jesus, kid.” rafe grabs a towel so he doesn't bruise his knees and drops it onto the floor, having to kneel behind you to continue. “who knew edging you would make you this fucking weak.”

“im sorry.” you call out again, hoping rafe won't punish you.

“yeah, shut up princess.” rafe groans, hands coming to grip your ass, pulling on your plump skin to get a good view of your cunt, already turning a shade of red from his abuse, dripping with wetness.

rafe plunges his cock inside, immediately using the same harsh pace like your body never just gave up. 

“so nice and tight for me.” rafe groans, one hand sliding up to the back of your head, the other staying firmly on your ass. “let's see if you can get even tighter.”

you're confused for a moment, about to ask what he means when the hand on your head pushes down, your face plunging into the water before you can take a breath.

you immediately thrash at the sudden loss of oxygen, body working on autopilot as you try to push against rafes hand, but he's too strong, holding you in the water until you swear you're seconds from passing out, when he finally lets you back up.

you take a deep breath before coughing, hair now dripping wet as his cock continues to pound into you. 

“felt so good to have you squeezing around me like that.” rafe groans, bending over your body as his hand turns your head, bearing your cheek for him to press a kiss to.

“rafe.” you whine, tears falling down your cheeks along with the water from the bath.

“shh, couple more times baby. yeah? you'll do that for me? ill make sure you won't pass out.” rafe coos. you're not sure how he will be able to tell when it's too long, but you know his reaction to being told no isn't worth it, so you simply nod your head and turn your head back down, body now racking with sobs.

you take a deep breath this time before rafe shoves your head back under the water, cunt tightening around his cock when you lose your breath, still thrusting into you rapidly while you struggle to not take an instinctive gulp of the air.

rafe pulls on your hair, hovering your face back over the water as you gasp and sputter, but he doesn't give you much time to regain your breath before shoving your head back under the water.

you thrash again, legs wobbling as water seeps into your mouth, uncontrollably clenching around rafes cock, wishing you didn't so he couldn't get the pleasure he so sickly wanted, but you couldn't help it.

“good girl, shh.” rafe pulls your head up as you cry loudly, pussy still dripping despite rafe cutting off your air.

“one more, okay kiddo? make me cum.” rafe waits a few moments, giving you time to prepare before shoving your head under the water again, your hands gripping at the edge of the tub as you quake, cunt pulsating around rafes swelling cock, signaling just how close he is.

you can hear rafes loud moans from under the water as he gives a few more final punishing thrusts before pressing his hips into your ass, cumming lodged as deep within you as he can, keeping your head under while your cunt milks him.

you're seconds from blacking out, spots overtaking your vision as he finishes with a slap on your ass.

rafe pulls your head out and tugs on your hair so you aren't hovering over the tub. you collapse on the floor, hacking coughs and spitting out water.

“told you that you wouldn't pass out.” rafe smirks down at you from his kneeled position.

“i almost did.” you whine.

“but you didn't. you gotta trust me kid.” rafe leans down, scooping you into his arms before moving to place your body gently in the tub. you sink into the warm water, sighing as your body relaxes.

“want daddy to finger you?” rafe asks. you're surprised, he doesn't usually offer to get you off if you didn't cum, probably his way of partly apologizing for almost drowning you, even if he isn't actually sorry.

“no, will you get in with me though?” your pussy is sore and tired, but you do need rafes love and attention after the intense session.

“aw, does my baby need some aftercare?” rafe coos, but when you scooch forward in the tub, he steps in so you can cuddle up to his chest, his hands stroking over your body gently.

“was it really that good?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

“yeah, you got so tight and to see you all vulnerable for me,” rafe nods. “real hot.”

“maybe…” your voice is quiet as you drag your finger over rafes thigh. “maybe you could try choking me sometime.”

“yeah, you would like that wouldn't you dirty slut?” rafe chuckles.

“stoppp.” you whine, turning around to pout at rafe, who pulls you in even closer.

“oh shush, you like it when i talk to you this way.” rafe presses his lips against yours, taking your mouth in a kiss. “my little whore.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[skiiyoomin]

Hey I just saw that your requests are open and the haikyuu brainrot is hitting me once more. Could I request some content energetic bbs Noya, Bokuto, and Hinata (separate) and the reader taking care of them when all that energy finally runs out and they crash? I'm in desperate need of fluff lmao

ღTaking care of them when they run out of energy

ʚContent: gn! reader, fluff

⤑Back to navigation

a/n yes ma´am 🫡 some fluffy energetic bbys brainrot coming right up. am i procrastinating my exams to do this? yes, yes i am

Nishinoya Yuu

Noya is like a literal babyyy. He loves loves lovesss when you pamper him and baby him. Especially during those moments where all he needs is a little silence and your comfort cause he doesn´t have one single ounce of energy left. He loves crashing down on the sofa, his head on your lap and your fingers through his ginger hair.

"Long day?"

Your soft honey like voice drifts to his ears, and all he can manage to respond is a small low hum.

He feels like he absolutely won in life when you not only move away to prepare a warm bath for him, but you also slip inside the tub behind him and wrap your arms around his torso. He melts like puddy when your soft hands begin to massage his scalp while you make sure the shampoo reaches his roots, and in his mind, he questions if that was what heaven felt like.

You had to coax him into getting out of the tub after a long while passed, your skin pruned and the bath no longer as warm. Though honestly, Noya could´ve stayed like that forever, however, the image of you cuddled up under the safety and warmth of the bedsheets sounded far more tempting. So, with groggy movements, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist.

He may be small, but he was not light, and in his dazed like state, he didn´t seem to remember as he all but plops down right on top of you. Were it any other day, you would´ve shoved him off, but the way his eyelids fluttered close and his lips seemed to be in a permanent pout were too cute. So, adjusting your position so you could at least breathe, you run your hand up and down his back, your other playing with his soft locks. And just like that, he was out like a light.

Bokuto Koutarou

You knew the second you started dating Bokuto, that you´d be in for a rollercoaster of emotions. You had become accostumed to his wide range of emtions that seemed to appear at the most sudden times. Nevertheless, there were days where his energy seemed to be on a constant low. He moved in slow sluggish motions and not a single thought seemed to pass through his mind.

You found out that one of his favorite things that you do at times like this is giving him a looong massage. His body would be flopped face down on the comfort of your bed while you oiled up his bare back. He´d expressed to you many times that he was convinced your hands were made by the very gods, because when they slowly massaged the tense muscled of his back, he felt like he was on cloud 9.

You´d make your way up until you reached his broad shoulders and neck. Small muffled groans would be heard from him every once in a while, but he´d mostly remain uncharacteristically quiet.

If he didn´t pass out from your massage, because trust me, he has passed out many times before, then you´d watch a random movie while he nuzzled into your warm body. His soft breaths tickled the sensitive skin of your neck and his buff arms wrapped around your body, like a bear engulfing you in a hug.

Every once in a while you´d press your soft lips to his forehead, or you´d run your fingers through his bicolored strands. And I can assure you that with a couple more sweet kisses, he´d be out like a light, his soft snores filling the silence of the room.

"I love you"

You whisper, pressing one last kiss to the crown of his head before you too, fall into deep slumber with your big baby in your arms.

Hinata Shoyo

If there´s one thing Shoyo loves more than anything in this world, it´s your cooking. And there´s nothing like your homemade food on a day where he can´t give his fullest.

He had spent the entire day jumping around, his energy at it´s peak. But the more it had dragged on the more he wished he could speed off back home and rest in your loving arms.

He was sprawled across the couch, his tired half lidded eyes boring into whatever was playing on the TV, he couldn´t even process anything. He feels the couch dip beside him, and when he turns his head, he finds you with a bowl of your homemade ramen in your hands. The steam wafted into the air and to his nostrils. He could already taste it in his toungue, making his stomach rumble.

However, he´s slightly surprised when you move the bowl away when he tries to reach out for it.

"Let me take care of you"

Is all you mutter. That´s how he finds himself curled up on the couch while you feed him the ramen, making sure to blow on the food each time you picked up a portion of it.

His heart fluttered when you pampered him this way. Or when you put away the bowl after he eats it all up and when you pepper slow kisses around his entire face. They werent rushed or overwhelming like they normally were. No, these were precise, like you were deliberately making sure to kiss every inch of his skin.

During these times, he absolutely needs to be the little spoon. He likes the feeling of being taken care of. The way your arms would wrap around his torso, your warm breath tickling the nape of his neck and making his spine shudder ever so slightly.

It´s in these moments where, as he´s drifting off to sleep with, he really feels an overwhelming sense of love and adoration for you

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Two - Empty drawing rooms

♡♡♡

Your mother does not keep her thoughts to herself about what dancing with Benedict Bridgerton may have done for you. All evening, even after you are home, she continues on and on about the thought of having callers come morning.

You sleep easy that night. You do not think one dance with a man, you will be unlikely ever to cross paths again with, will affect your prospects all that much.

You're woken by the violent pulling of your curtains. Light floods into your room and cascades across your bed. You sigh softly as you force your eyes open and push yourself up into a sitting position.

"Get up! We must get you dressed and ready!" Your mother eagerly exclaims.

You're forced from your bed and urged into the tub. You're scrubbed raw from head to toe. Your hair is brushed surely a hundred times. You dress, and your mother chooses a necklace to compliment your gown.

Before you know it, you're sitting in the drawing room with her. Your mother has tea and biscuits made.

The drawing room is quiet.

Occasionally, a carriage is heard passing the house. Sometimes you hear the footsteps of staff coming and going outside the door. Not a single sound of knocking is heard.

Your mother becomes restless as the hours pass. "I was certain Mr Bridgerton dancing with you would garner some attention."

"Mother, it was one dance. Anyway, people had their eyes on his sister. No one was looking at us. He barely spoke to me." You tell her, picking up a book you had placed on the table earlier that morning.

"Still, that family is well known and wealthy too. People should always be watching those lf well breeding." She sighs.

You dare not comment further and focus on your book. You've read two chapters before your mother calls it quits and leaves. You close the book and sigh again.

♡♡♡

Daphne Bridgerton had received no callers. The fault did not lie with her for she was perfect in every way. The fault lay with her eldest brother.

Anthony had a habit of scaring everyone off. He had every excuse under the sun as to why no one was suitable for his sister. While his mother wished love for her children I their marriages, Anthony saw more as finding someone merely suitable.

Daphne was disappointed at her lack of visitors. Each day that passed without a caller, her spirit began to dwindle.

She received only one caller. Lord Berbrooke. He was the last person she had hoped to see.

While Violet had been quite busy keeping her daughter company during the passing days, she still found time to corner Benedict.

Colin was paying a visit to the Featherington family to call upon Miss Thompson. Benedict was not calling upon anyone, and Violet hoped the young lady he had danced with could have been an option.

"Benedict."

The second eldest son jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of his mother in the doorway.

"Mother."

Benedict had spent most of the day sketching in his book. He loved drawing, painting, and doodling. Art was his passion. He hoped one day to be good enough to have his work up in galleries.

"Have you paid any visits yet?" Violet asks, pretending to be interested in the decor of the room as she comes closer to where her son lounges.

Benedict stills his hand and glances up at her. "I have not."

Violet looks disappointed. "What about that lovely young lady you danced with?"

"Hm? Oh. I don't even remember her name."

That was a lie. He did remember your name. He just didn't want give his mother false hope. Benedict had no intention of seeking out a wife right now.

"Benedict," she sighs. "I do wish you would try."

"How is Daphne doing?" He asks, immediately shooting down any chance of his mother's interrogation.

"Not so well. Anthony is riding with her in the park. Your brother is... making things quite difficult." Violet feels for her daughter. She juat wants Daphne to be happy. She wants all her children to be happy.

"Yes. Anthony can be overbearing." Benedict resumes his sketch.

Violet knew she would get nothing else out of her son and left quietly. Benedict stopped sketching when she left the room and glanced at the door. He sighs softly to himself.

One day, yes, he'll find a wife. Just not yet.

♡♡♡

Lady Whistledown had made several comments about Daphne Bridgerton's lack of callers. You could only wonder how she was feeling at this time.

Every morning, your mother brought you into the drawing room, and you would wait several hours, but no one came to see you.

While your mother moaned about how the gentlemen lf the ton didn't have an eye at all, she particularly felt disappointed about the fact Benedict Bridgerton himself didn't even come to call. You had told her many times over the last week that the dance wasn't really anything.

He simply used you as an opportunity to avoid his mother, and you knew it.

Deciding to push every Bridgerton from your mind, you decided to focus on yourself. Another ball would mean another chance. There would be plenty of people to dance with there. You shall make sure to introduce yourself, unlike last time.

The opera. That came first. You were attending with your mother. As you were making your way toward your seats, you caught sight of Violet Bridgerton with her daughter Daphne. You didn't have to look far to spot Anthony and Benedict.

Your mind shifts slightly to the moment when you had bumped into the eldest son. The weight of his body colliding with yours, almost sending to the ground. However, his warm hands were quick to steady you.

You shake him from your mind as you find your seat.

Benedict had been speaking his brother when he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you sitting down. He turns his attention back to his brother.

If his mother caught him, he would never hear the end of it. Even if there was nothing to discuss. You were a perfect stranger to him.

You spend the whole show with your eyes on the stage. When it's over, you rise with your mother and exit into the lobby. Your mother gets caught up in conversation with some of the other mama's, and you find yourself waiting by the door alone. Your eyes scan the crowds of people heading home for the evening.

Benedict is walking with his brother when he spots you by the door. He can't help thinking you look a little cold standing there. The door was open to allow people to leave with ease.

"Hello again." He finds himself stopping I front of you. Anthony either doesn't notice or doesn't care that he is no longer being followed by his brother.

You turn your head and find yourself staring at the second Bridgerton.

"Hello."

Silence settles between you as he stands there and looks at you. You're once again faced with a slightly awkward pause as you have no idea what to say to him. Last time, he was distracted by keeping his mother at bay. This time, it seems he simply has no idea what to say to you either.

"Are you well?" He asks.

You are almost startled by the sound of his voice, half expecting him to just leave after a while.

"Yes. Quite well, thank you."

Benedict takes note of how you pull your shawl around you tighter. The breeze from the door is clearly bothering you.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.

"My Mama. She is busy gossiping, I assume." You move your gaze over to where she stands, talking to a little group of other mothers.

Benedict glances that way and chuckles slightly. "Ah. Why don't you wait over on that bench? You'll be warmer there." He gestures to the velvet cushioned seat behind you. You find yourself drifting that way with him.

"I believe your brother has departed." You say, sitting down. Benedict takes a seat too.

"Yes. Though Mother and Daphne are still here, I shall return with them." He looks over to where his mother speaks with Lady Danbury.

Soon enough, his attention is back on you, though. "Did you enjoy the ball the other night?" He asks.

You look at him. "It was alright. The first one is always strange."

"Yes. I suppose it can be. Lots of new faces."

You understood that he was possibly referring to the fact that neither of you had seen each other before, despite your knowing of his family.

"Yes."

"How many names did you get on your card?"

"Just one," you confess. It was true that his name was the only one. You danced with no other that night, for no one spared you a glance. Not that you planned on telling him that.

"I was the only one?"

You turn toward the lobby to avoid his gaze. Benedict understands enough. He is surprised by this information.

"I do not recall you being there the day the debutantes were presented to the Queen." He tries changing the topic. He wants to know you a bit better.

"I wasn't in London. I arrived the day after."

He looks at you quietly for a moment. There is something so calming about your presence.

"How is your sister doing?" You ask, spotting Daphne trying to avoid a certain lord.

"She has only had one caller so far." Benedict points out.

"Oh. Surprising. I was sure she would be swarmed with suitors." You glance back toward her. She looks a little down.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure." Benedict turns back to you. "I'm sorry about the ball. I wasn't a very good partner. Too distracted."

You return your attention back to him. "Yes. I was aware."

"Perhaps I can make it up to you at the next one?" He asks.

"It's alright. You don't need to." You offer him a smile.

"Nonsense. I'm a gentleman." He smiles back.

Before either of you can say any more, Violet comes over with Daphne in tow. You both look up to see the Dowager Viscountess smiling at you both.

"Benedict, we are leaving." She speaks softly.

Benedict glances at you and then stands slowly. He offers you his hand. You take it and stand with him.

"Mother. Daphne." He nods.

"Who is this?" Violet asks, looking at you. She gives off a warm and calming aura. Yet, she looks quite excitable right about now.

Benedict speaks your name. "I was keeping the young lady company while she waited for her mother."

Violet hadn't once taken her eyes off of you. Daphne looked up at her brother, who just shook his head at her. He knew what they were thinking. He was going to hear about this all night now.

"You must come to dinner," Violet insists.

You all look at her.

"Mofher." Benedict sighs.

Daphne smiles and steps forward. "Really, you must."

You look at Daphne and feel comfort. Perhaps she is looking for a friend too.

"Name the day," you say, turning to Violet.

Benedict looks at his mother with faux disdain. He knows what game she is playing. His mother was not subtle in her matchmaking attempts.

"Splended. I shall send an invite very soon."

Much to the ignorance of her children, she had already made plans with Lady Danbury to invite the Duke for dinner so he may get to know Daphne. They would make a handsome couple, she thinks. Why not offer the same opportunity to her son and his new friend?

Violet was so looking forward to this.

Benedict bids you goodnight and offers Daphne his arm. She takes it and bids you farewell too. Violet smiles at you and takes her leave, following her children outside.

Only then does your mother come over. "What was that just now?" She asks. The same light in her eyes had been in Violet's.

"Nothing, Mama."

She doesn't believe you. She traps your arm with hers and guides you out to the carriages.

"That Bridgerton boy, he was the one who danced with you at the ball, yes?" She smiles.

"Benedict Bridgerton. Yes."

"Perhaps you have an admirer!" She says with glee.

"Not st all, mother. He was merely being polite."

She brushes off your words and continues to go down a spiral of why he is taken with you and will wish to court you soon. You sense no such feelings from the man. There is no reason one cannot become acquainted with others without feelings being involved.

You would accept the dinner invitation purely out of curious interest of his family. The Bridgerton's certainly seem like interesting people to know.

♡♡♡

Benedict is sketching in his room when his mother comes in. They had been home merely an hour after the opera. She clutches a letter in her hand as she comes over to him.

"How does this sound?" She holds out the letter to him. Benedict sighs and takes it, skimming the words.

Its addressed to you.

'You are invited to our home this Friday evening for dinner. Be here for 6 and stay as long as you like.

Lady V.Bridgerton.'

"Sounds fine." He hands the letter back. Benedict returns to his sketch.

Violet looks at him. "She's a find lady."

"Hm." Benedict pays her little mind.

Violet looks defeated. It would seem Benedict really has no interest in you. Still, she would welcome you into her home for the evening.

When she leaves, Benedict looks up again. He stares at the door.

He simply has no interest in courting. Not yet.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertons - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived -

[yuyusboyfriend]

Cookies & Cream

pairing: nerd!seonghwa x reader

wordcount: 2,7k

content: your tutor helps himself to the cookies in your bag despite you telling him countless times no, without knowing what they really are.

warnings: nsfw, aphrodisiacs, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest or other gendered terms) dom!reader, sub!seonghwa, use of pet names (baby, love), unprotected sex (wrap it ☝️) mentions of food, mentions of sex toys, blow job, cunnilingus (pussy ATE 🗣), edging, some body worship, lmk if there's anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You had told Seonghwa that on the way to his dorm for a study session, you'd be picking up snacks to get you through the next few dreaded hours. Not that you dreaded spending time with seonghwa, the boy was a pleasure to look at, big brown eyes smiling at you every time you grasped a concept thanks to his help; the warmth of his body engulfing yours when he leant over you to help with a question.

Okay, that wasn't so much helpful as it was distracting, but you liked it nonetheless. You wondered if Seonghwa had any relationship experience, because of the way he was oblivious to almost every move anyone made on him, and would turn fire engine-red when he heard you talk about anything slightly sexual. From your observations, you had concluded that this man has probably never felt the touch of a lover. Still he was a lovely boy, sweet and innocent,,, it kind of did something for you.

“Did you get me turtle chips?” Seonghwa questioned through the front door.

“No 'hello y/n! You made it! Nice to see you'? What did you do with my sweet seonghwa?” you sighed at him, knowing you bought him both the originals, and the churro version. Pretending to not notice the blush on his cheeks, likely caused by the 'my sweet seonghwa' comment, you strolled passed him till you reached your regular spot on the sofa. You pulled the snacks out one by one, watching the joy on Seonghwa's face as you brought all of his favourites to last him until the next session.

“What's in the tub?” seonghwa eyed the plastic tub you had put bag into your bag after pulling the rest of the drinks out.

“Cookies I made, and before you ask, no you can't have any.” you warn.

Seonghwa pouts like his life depends on it, devastated as he adores home-baked goods, especially the ones you make for him. "Why? Who are they for?? Are you seeing someone after me?” he blurts out a little too desperately.

“Why? You jealous, Hwa?” you smirk at him, watching him turn red once again at your words.

“I'm not jealous! I was… just worried because it'll be late by the time you leave, I don't want you wandering around at night…” he gets quieter with each word.

Ah shit, you feel kind of guilty now. You stood up to walk over to the table where always study together, ruffling his hair as you go. “Oh, Hwa, I'm going straight back home after this, don't worry your sweet little head,” you reassure his worrying.

You hadn't realised your tutor had cared so much about you, before this you didn't even know if he considered you friends. Your stomach fluttered at the idea, knowing that seonghwa didn't have many people he considered friends, you could count them all in one hand.

He huffed and pulled out his chair, handing you the test papers you had filled last session, with red pen markings on it showing you where to improve.

“You did really well, if you keep this up you'll be passing with flying colours. I added a couple suggestions on where you can expand on points, but otherwise, you did an amazing job y/n.” He smiles softly at you, proud that your hard work has been paying off.

After an hour of going over some new material from your classes with him, you decide to take a break to stretch and eat the food you brought. Although, you both had already cleared a bag of turtle chips and a bowl of M&Ms in that time, as well as a bottle of your favourite drink.

“Hwa I'm going to the bathroom, ill be back in a minute” you announced to your friend as you walked down the hallway to his spotless bathroom; you always admired how clean seonghwa was, sometimes he'd even help you with yours when you held study sessions there.

Honestly, seonghwa was still hung up on why you didn't let him eat the cookies in your bag, the clear container told him there was way more than you could eat on your own,,,

Surely—you wouldn't notice if one was missing…right?

The boy looked over to the hallway, listening to the sound of you—fighting the shower curtain? He couldn't tell, but you sounded busy. He turned his head back to your bag and reached in, opening the tub and taking one…must've okay three cookies, stuffing them in his mouth and chewing them as fast as he could. They tasted like heaven, he could tell they were a little different from your regular ones, you must've tried a new recipe? Maybe that's why you were so adamant about him not having any? Whatever it was, it was hardly noticeable, the crispy marshmallows taking over his taste buds. He quite literally moaned at the taste, almost annoyed that he nearly missed out on this.

He washed them down with the strawberry milk he kept stocked and put everything back where it was, just as you walked out of the bathroom.

“Alright, what have we got left?” you looked at the boy standing by his chair.

“Uh, we”, Seonghwa went to answer your question but his brain completely blanked. “We were…” he looked at the table to remember where you had left off, but you had already his noticed is off demeanour.

“Hwa, you good?” you tilted your head at the boy, watching him push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“I'm great y/n! Lets, uh, get back to the work?” he avoided looking in your direction, his body feeling funny - fuck, what did you put in those cookies? He thought.

“Hwa. What did you just say? Did you—Did you eat the cookies I told you not to!?” You started raising your voice at him, more worried about him than anything.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd notice if a few were gone…” he says under his breath, feeling overwhelmingly heavy. His emotions feeling all too strong to the point where he feels a tear rolling down his cheek before he could stop it. His core felt like hot coals, and his skin more painfully tender than he had ever experienced in his life.

"Sit down, I'm gonna get you some water… I know this is a weird question, but are you seeing anybody currently that I can call?" you already knew the answer, but you didn't want to risk it.

"Wh-what? No, I'm not seeing anybody y/n, why would you need to-" He huffed out a groan as his sweatpants grew tighter and rubbed against his swelling hard on.

"Okay, those cookies you just ate? They're aphrodisiac cookies, I hadn't even had a chance to test them out, I was going to when I got home…" you reluctantly looked at Seonghwa's horrified expression, mixed with sweat forming on his brow. You watched as he fidgeted and pulled at his irritating clothing, his hips rutting and bucking subtly against nothing.

"Hwa you wouldn't happen to have any… sex toys, would you? I can go to the pharmacy and pick some up, It's not far." you already start grabbing his spare set of keys and your jacket to leave, if you went now it would only take 8 minutes-

"In the bottom drawer of my desk, can you help me get to my room?" Oh. So he wasn't as innocent as you thought. He reached out for you, barely able to stand by himself now, his legs feeling like they would crumble under his weight. As you wrapped Seonghwa's arm over your shoulder, pulling him up, he pressed his body against yours, resting his head on your shoulder. God, the scent of you was making him harder, barely restraining himself from biting your neck while you walked him to his bedroom.

He slumped into his bed, not waiting any longer to take his shirt off. He wanted to burn the damn thing now, the material felt torturous on his sensitive nipples. You looked at him in awe, his blushing body making your mouth dry and your hands ache to feel him under them.

"Well, I'm gonna go-"

"No."

You looked at him in confusion, seeing his darkened eyes filled with desire, "What do you mean, no?"

"The least you could do is help me...please?"

That's all you needed to jump into his lap and connect your lips. The kiss was filled with desperation, teeth bumping and tongues swirling together, fighting for dominance in your mouths. You grind against his aching cock, dragging a whine from his sweet voice.

"Sweatpants off, now Hwa" need dripping from each word, you didn't have to tell seonghwa twice. He lifted his hips up on the bed, and he pulled them off with your help. You took a moment to take in his figure. He was gorgeous, I mean, you already knew that, but lying here looking so desperate for your touch gave you goosebumps. You wanted to devour him; and you would do just that. You leant down between his legs to his stiff cock, kitten licking his soaked tip.

"Oh fuck," He squirmed under your tongue, hips trying to buck into your mouth for more. You held his hips down as you took him fully to the back of your throat. He cried out sweet whimpers at the feeling of your mouth around his cock, taken away all too quickly as you came back up for air. He didn't have to suffer for too long, though, as you formed a steady rhythm with your hand.

"I'm gonna cum y/n it feels too good," tears rolled down his reddened cheeks.

You took his cock out of your mouth with a pop, "love, we just started, I can't have you cumming that quickly now, can I?" untying the string of your own sweats, pulling them down with your underwear, exposing your bottom half to seonghwa. His member twitching and leaking at just the sight of you.

"You're my tutor, shouldn't you be helping me, hm? Why don't you let me sit on your face, and you can show me how to make someone cum, baby?"

Hwa had a habit of swiping his tongue against his lip when he was thinking, or doing anything and fuck, he was so sexy about it. It fuelled so many wet dreams and solo sessions, you couldn't wait to feel it in action.

God, he did not disappoint. He swiped his tongue across your soaking cunt, swirling around your swollen clit. You cried out at the sensations of him ravaging you as you stimulated your clit on the tip of his nose, while he fucked your starving hole with his long tongue. It didn't take long for the pressure in the pit of your stomach to build, you barely had time to warn seonghwa before you came on his tongue. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and rocked your hips against his face as you rode out your high.

You admired his fucked out face, your arousal still across his mouth and nose, and leaned over to kiss him again. “Okay, it's only fair you have your turn Hwa, ready baby?”

He could only whine out your name and beg for you to fuck him, he was so ethereal in this state. You couldn't wait to see him cum. As you sank down on his cock, he sat up and gripped your hips so hard it would leave marks he wanted to worship after. Once you bottomed out, you stayed there, letting seonghwa adjust to the feeling. He pulled your shirt over your head and kissed your skin, scattering hickeys across your chest.

"Fuck you're so tight y/n, please move," he keeps his hands on you trying to roll your hips against him.

"And you're such a needy boy, should've listened to me when I told you not to eat those cookies, hm?" you cooed at the boy looking into glossy eyes, before lifting yourself up and slamming back down, ripping the loudest moan yet out of seonghwa. You kept a slow, steady pace, teasing and punishing seonghwa for this very avoidable situation, more so because you worried that this would be the last time on his cock. Fuck he was perfect, he filled you so much better than your exes', hitting all the spots you never knew you needed.

But, He couldn't take much more of the pace and took it into his own hands, flipping you on your back and lifting your legs over his shoulders to put you in a mating press. Once he had you like that you knew you were done for. His hips slammed into your cunt, making your jaw drop, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way he pounded you deliciously had you seeing stars, Your groans just short of screams; not so much because you didn't need to but for his neighbours' sake, although you were already expecting to hear about a complaint in the morning anyway.

"fuck, fuck y/n you feel so good," He huffed out a series of thank-yous and sweet nothings into your skin, worshipping your pussy like he was willing to die for it.

He picked up his pace, thrusting just as deep, and you knew you wouldn't be able to last much longer, by the looks on his face he was right there with you. You cried out again when he moved his hand to your clit, circling with his thumb at the same pace as he was dipping into your cunt, your orgasm just on the edge.

"Y/n I'm gonna cum I can't-" was all he could get out before you clenched tightly around his cock, your own orgasm beating his. He pressed his hips down into your cunt, his cum filling you, leaking out from your hole. He rocked in and out once more before finally, and reluctantly, pulling out, watching his cum leak out of you.

Once he had helped you clean up and changed the bedsheets, you started looking for your scattered clothes to go home, you didn't know how to face seonghwa, guilt rushing back through your veins.

"Where you going?" seonghwa looked at you from the bed with sad eyes.

"well you know, I thought- I thought I should…." you mumbled.

"Come back, I'm not done yet…and I'm cold…" seonghwa smiled sweetly, pulling the blanket back for you to get in with him. With a sigh of relief, you picked up one of his hoodies he had left on the back of his desk chair and pulled it over your head before climbing into bed with seonghwa. As soon as you were under the covers his arms wrapped tightly around you, slipping his hands under the hoodie.

"Are you okay with this? I mean, is it okay that I like you as more than a tutee? Seonghwa softly admitted into your neck as he held you closer, rubbing circles into the small of your back. His breathing against your neck gave you goosebumps, you wouldn't ever want to leave his arms if it was an option.

"You like me? Wow Hwa, you're trying to take advantage of your student" you teased, but not for long when he looked at you pouting. Instead of answering with your words, you pressed your lips to his once again, taking your time to enjoy feeling his soft lips and the way that you fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle. You fiddled with the hair that reached his nape pulling a satisfied hum from seonghwa.

You pulled away to look into his pretty eyes, "So, tell me more about the toys in the draw?"

AHHH this took ages ,,,,, I deleted like 1000 words and started over bc I wasn't happy with it but now! It is done!!!!!!!! Who next......

also not proof read so sorry for any mistakes !

[httpiastri]

snowy mountains & hot baths – op81

you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.

genre: very short smut 😶

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!

author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors do not interact!

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a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.

"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.

he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.

goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.

taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.

"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.

the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.

"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.

"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.

"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."

your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.

"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."

oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.

you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.

oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.

"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.

but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."

he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.

he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.

your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.

"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.

the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.

"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."

you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.

his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.

his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."

his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"

his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.

"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."

"oscar!"

[hoseoksluna]

STORY | knj

pairing: soft dom!namjoon x reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.8k

summary: yours and namjoon’s story is a bit more perverted than traditional.

warnings: serious big dick namjoon, rough touches, hair pulling, use of pet names and titles, dom/sub dynamics, horny namjoon can't help but palm himself:(, desperation, masturbation, spanking, praising, tit slapping, nipple play, teasing, oc and namjoon not being comfortable with certain practices, playful orgasm denial, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming && ass play :3, cum eating yum yum, tit fucking, orgasm countdown fuck

note: smut is so fucking difficult to write but i loved every second of it. i love writing about namjoon, he just makes me feel so safe. this is purely my fantasy with him and i'll probably dream about this for a long, long time. please, take your time reading this as it's pretty long. i hope you enjoy it and that it makes you dream like it made me dream. as always, let me know what you think in the comments, like the post and if you want to—reblog, but i won't pressure you angels <3. love you guys so much, thank you for all the love. kisses!

side note: i miss namjoon and i wish he were here. all i can do is watch his lives and pretend he never left for the military.

Namjoon makes himself comfortable on the wooden chair before you.

The scene is set. Like a mermaid bathing in the sun, you rest your elbows on the cold rim of the ivory bathtub. Small surges of violet-tinted water, perfumed with your scent, blanket your body in a thin layer of glittery sheen. They kiss the tiger stripes along the curve of your bottom as it rolls over, passing by the dip in the small of your waist, breathing in your patchouli fragrance in greeting. The bath bomb, cornered by your knees, sizzles and spins, the width of the tub allowing your form to float like a little fish in the open sea as copiously as you please.

A gift from your loving boyfriend. Both the clawfoot, and the bath bomb.

The scene expands. Your Eric slouches in his seat, balancing his greatest and most stellar possession on top of his lap with one hand while he runs the other through his silver mane. He fits perfectly in the picturesqueness of the background. Soft orange and chocolate tiles zig zag behind his back, transposing him momentarily into a sunlit illustration, where he rests in the shade of a palm tree on a faraway beach. Reads the book to pass the time as he waits for you to emerge from the waters. Sets it down on his lap as soon as his gaze catches yours. Periwinkle clams for a bra, panties thin and translucent from the oncoming waves, you rest your front on the sand. He smiles down at you and you know for a fact you won’t be able to get on your feet. Might have to learn how to walk, too.

You keep this picture in your heart. Mentally, you rip out the page. Fold it and tuck it somewhere within you to keep it safe.

Legs outstretched by the sides of the tub, clad in slacks in the muted color of a persimmon, it’s almost as though you’re propped on his lap. Sporting a simple white button-down, sleeves rolled, you’re close enough to touch the material if you so much as wished so. From his angle, Namjoon sees nothing but the roundness of your eyes through the brownish rims of his glasses, hair unkempt in their dampness as the short paper thin layers frame your flushed face in such a celestial way. If he were to lean over, it’d be a different kind of book.

The one in the clasp of his hand isn’t a tale as old as time.

It’s one of your favorites. An existential story that ridicules the traditional. A transfusion of liveness to a certain forgotten room of your heart. The unlit one while the others brim with sunlight, with the golden sepia projection of the contents of the fairytales you love so much made into stop motion. A coloring book of some sort, hues fitting into the lines by your helping hand—the attention of your eyes. 

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. The book that sweeps away all those cobwebs in that chamber. Makes it less lonely.

It’s all you had talked about on your dates when you and Namjoon first started dating, having been reading it at the time. You had confided in him that the writer was the only person who understood you without ever learning your name, without familiarizing himself with the subtleties of your calamitous life.

No one has ever shared something so vulnerable with him, especially not on the first date. Not that he’d gone on many, but the few that fell into his grasp were hell to get through. Insufferable, to say the least. Absolutely superficial.

He went home in the rain thinking of you. Not for boyish reasons. But for reasons of literary character, of melancholy nature that squeezed his long-unexpressed heart in perpetuating intervals too consistent for his liking. Filled it with a nectar bubbling with a newly blooming love for books, with a sudden longing to be found within the words. His body decided for him that it was yours. Yours to teach again how to read between the lines.

The scene breaks out of the margins on the page.

“Is the water warm enough?”

The idea constructed by his own geniality, it’s by his will that you’re basking in your bare femininity before his eyes. Idleness lingered in the living room between the pair of you, the flimsy curtain by your balcony lifting and falling in a little dance as the cold air perfused the place with the drowsiness of winter. Pulling his eyes away from the TV to sink a soft kiss into your hair, Namjoon muttered into your ear: “How about I draw you a bath and read to you for a little bit?”

You said nothing. The click of your phone turning off and your hasty movements to untangle yourself from the warmth of his limbs answered him for you. Leaving your clothes as a trail for him to follow, you gave him a glimpse of your ass, arched and pointed in the draft before you ran away. Before he scolded you with his index finger like a father, raising to his feet to close the balcony door.

In two seconds he joined you in the bathroom. Leaned against the doorframe as you circled a pink roll-on lip oil you’ve been obsessed with lately around the perimeters of your lips. The one that makes them look bigger, juicier. That makes them more fun to kiss and toy with. The one that leaves his length sticky once playtime is over. You seem to cast aside little trinkets of yourself for him to collect everywhere you go.

Tits pushed towards each other while you slightly bent over the vanity sink, tapping the excess into the fullness of your mouth, Namjoon palmed himself. The tiredness from work earlier weakened his self-control to the point of unrestrained indulgence. And the plumpness of your ass just encouraged it.

You fluffed your hair and Namjoon ran the bath. Disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the purple bath bomb from the plastic bag on the counter, one that he got from the convenience store for you. Dragon fruit and hibiscus. Thought of the twinkle that would sparkle beneath your lashes upon seeing it. Wasn’t disappointed when you exceeded his expectations.

Having seen it in the mirror, almost microscopic and round in his big palm, you turned on your heel and burst into giddiness as he took off the plastic packaging with his teeth. You pouted in gratefulness when he showed it to you. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

You hugged him, locking your hands behind the nape of his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and he told you so. A bit hoarsely, though.

Namjoon struggled not to moan. Groaned a little when he felt the curvature of your belly against his hardness and the pointed nubs of your tits beneath his pecs. Managed to conceal it, thankfully, by clearing his throat and by allowing an authentic grin to bloom on his dimpled face at your joy. Thanked the heavens for all the bath bombs in the world.

He placed it in your much smaller palm for you to plop it into the increasing water. Watched your eyes widen at the gilded glitter spreading around. Spurred you to get in. Held your hand as you lifted one limb, then the other. Knelt by you as you engulfed yourself in the violet tinge, your hair swirling around you, silky and ethereal, coming to a stop at the top of your head to fix a splendid crown for such a princess like yourself.

Namjoon turned off the tap while you rested your back against the curved wall of the tub. You swooshed your hands around, gathering the glitter into the fine lines of your palms. Looked up at him in elation, the twinkle doing its thing in the glossiness of your eyes, and smiled. Namjoon smiled back at you. His hand reached out to your chest in a fervent need to touch you. The glitter adorned your chest with its perfect speckles and they resurfaced when you arched your back in response. Clung to his palm in the middle of your tits, held on tighter as he took a detour to your chin by brushing across your sensitive nipple to hear your little mewls because if he made a sound, then you must, too. Because if he was horny, he must get you on the same page as well. Fairness is very important to Namjoon.

He squeezed your breast hard. Pinched your nipple between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in broken intervals, similar to little dashed lines of Morse code. You imagined he was telling you something through that secret language as you closed your eyes during an intense wave of pleasure coursing down your body, and perhaps he truly did because he pulled your legs apart harshly when you pressed them together. Punished you by lightly slapping your tit—the same one he abused with those firm touches—the force splashing you in the face with violet pearls. All as if you disobeyed the command he transmitted wordlessly.

The command possibly being: Only I will give you the release you need when I decide it’s time.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the neediness erupting in you. Namjoon wrapped his hand around your throat and you dragged his rolled sleeve further up his arm, so it wouldn’t have gotten soaked in the water. He smeared your lip oil just because he wanted—just because he could, scattering the rosy tint around your mouth messily. He took advantage of the aftermath of his punishment and collected those tender beads, now translucent upon your carmine skin. Not with the thumb as you expected him to, but using the pillows of his lips, he kissed the round bulb on your cheek. It melted on the puffy surface when he withdrew. He looked you in the eye for a mere beat of time before he lowered to your other cheek to collect another trinket. None of the corners of your mouth were overlooked, not even the button of your nose. He peppered those kisses to erase the harshness of his selfishness, supporting your lifted chin with his long thumb beneath it, still sticky from the consistency of the lip oil, apologizing, smoothing down his sternness until you giggled.

Once he cleaned you, Namjoon returned the digit to your smudged mouth, delicious in his sight due to the essence of sloppiness that gets his length even harder in his pants. He presses the pad against it, already craving your tongue. You kissed it, a thank you for his softness, before you granted him the access. Tongue toying with the tip, you said hello in the mother language of the love stored in your bodies for each other. Wrapped both of your hands around his wrist. Didn’t break eye contact. Smiled, teeth showing happily, when he bit his lip, but soon got distracted by a small movement on his groin area out of your view.

You peeled your back off of the tub to curiously take a peek, but Namjoon pushed you back to your place. All while his thumb remained sucked by your mouth. You frowned at him, dismayed by his recurring roughness that you weren’t used to.

Namjoon tapped your cheek twice with his fingers to let you know it was enough and rose to his feet.

“Joon, what’s going on? Why are you so rough with me?” you asked, voice tender, the question shooting arrows into the wideness of his back.

Stopping in the doorway, he hung his head, fingers coming to intertwine with the short hair above his neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Let me get the book.”

A moment later, he returned with the stellar possession in one hand and a wooden chair in the other. He slumped against it, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

You swam forward as if to the shore, propping your elbows on the rim to be closer to him.

“Is the water warm enough?”

You nod, your teeth picking at the excess skin on your lips. Namjoon notices and, as if registering the reason why you put on the lip oil in the first place, he leans towards you and rubs away the smudginess he caused. As if the walk into your dining room sobered him enough from the dark wine of his lust that he now regretted his actions.

“You really scared me when you were rough,” you said calmly, unafraid to uncover your feelings, knowing you’ll be caught now that you’ve jumped head-first into the hungry sea of honesty.

He apologizes again. Repeats it in the aphonic form of a deep chaste kiss.

“Won’t do it again,” he promises. “Unless you ask me to.”

Your lips form a smile, but it quivers into a straight line just as quickly as it appeared. The yet unknown cause behind his untypical behavior troubles you.

“Did something happen today at work?”

Namjoon sighs. “No, I’m just tired.”

“Just tired or tired of your job?” you try, tilting your head to the side, remembering this isn’t the first time quiet broodiness clutched his figure when the clock struck five.

“Both.” He kneads the heel of his palm against his eye. 

Not expecting his honesty, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It propels you to investigate further. Gives you the green light. Namjoon usually keeps to himself when it comes to work-related storms, holding respect that reaches the bottom of his heart for those above him and for his peers as well.

“Did someone make you upset?” you ask, paving your way in this inquiry to the realm of understanding so you can help him. At least in a small way.

He drops his hand, gazes up the ceiling to stare at a fixed point. Perhaps he’s looking for words, perhaps he’s avoiding the question altogether. The regret of your prying swallows you. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped a boundary. 

You reach out your arm, wrapping wet fingers around his wrist on his lap. The gesture says, ‘you don’t have to tell me but I’m here,’ and you squeeze the limb to emphasize that. As if he heard you, he looks down at you. His eyes that are usually narrowed into slits now round in tenderness. The swallowing lets go, the lump that threatened to obstruct your throat disappears.

“It’s Friday, Joonie, and you can forget about your job for a little while. It’ll get better,” you say, caressing his soft skin.

To your another surprise, Namjoon nods. Slips his fingers into the hollowness between yours, squeezing back, saying, ‘I hear you.’ Your heart jumps with gladness that you haven’t made a mistake, that instead your reassurement made a difference.

To lighten up the atmosphere, you begin to joke around.

“Should I beat them up?” You raise your brow in mischief, a goofy smile coating your face in lightheartedness.

A grin cracks on his face. “Don’t get your hands dirty for me, baby.”

You scoff, half-seriously and half-unseriously shaking your head at his eagerness to please but never letting himself be pleased. “But I want to. I’ll do it for you.”

Namjoon shakes his head as well. Leans over to you. Cradles your head in his hands and kisses you. Picks the hair plastered on your face and puts it away. You forget all of your jokes for a moment, breathless. Your neediness nudges you in your sensitive parts, reminding you of its lingering presence. 

“Come on, Joonie,” you coo, prolonging the vowels, the best you could come up with considering his allure, “I’ll fight them,” you start to construct your imaginary plan, the dimples adorning his face making it a bit harder for you to get the words out, “then, they’ll be scared of me and they won’t bother you again. Because if they do, I’ll smash their fucking teeth in. And then… then, you’ll get your peace for good. Easy.”

Namjoon listens with his features bathed in enamoredness, seemingly lost in a deep thought. A twinkle, a twin to yours, glistens in his eyes. Dimples out provoking you, he softly smiles at you. Coyly. He’s unaccustomed to being the one fought for. He’s always been the one who fights. The one who settles, resolves, makes things right. He’s never been the person these things are done for by another person. It makes his heart pulsate in a strange new rhythm. 

He stretches out his hands and runs his fingers through your hair. Begins to plait an intricate braid down your back, keeping you caged in the confines of his arms. Safe. Protected. His warrior princess.

“There’s something else you can do for me,” he mumbles, finished with your braid. Now your hair is away from your face, just like he needs it for what he’s about to do.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow in question, your smirk growing on the side of your face. “Like what?”

“I’m so hard for you, baby,” he whispers into your ear, shoulders hunched, lips tracing the edge of your earlobe. A secret just between the two of you. “My body’s confused. I need a release.”

Even though you saw it coming, even though you saw it a hundred times before, you can’t help but gasp at his desperation, bare and open before you. It’s a new experience each time. Thrilling and titillating, the vividness and ferocity of his sexuality. It causes a flock of playful butterflies to buzz you with electricity in your tummy and a shiver to run down your spine. You feel your own neediness making itself known again and you squeeze your thighs together. 

This is the Namjoon you know. Strong in his softness. Mellow. Intense. The Namjoon who showed you plain roughness was a stranger to you, one you could take the time to get to know, because now you understand that the incentive to act like he did was his frustration from work. You can’t really blame the natural inclination of his body—his body that is yours to love in all shapes or forms.

You perceive he needs to let out some steam—he said so himself. Proud of him for voicing it out, a decision to be his helper already makes a way to your heart. You no longer feel slivers of consternation slithering in your veins. Knowing the cause, knowing it’s still your Namjoon helps you submit to the call of his needs. If a dab of roughness is what entails the sand-speckled footpath to the seaside of his well-being, you’ll take it. Welcome it, even. Within the realm of your established boundaries, that is. 

“Can I see?”

The book falls to the floor with a thud. Namjoon stands up. 

Ever so eager. Responding to his body language out of pure instinct, you hum and lift yourself to your knees. The outline of his engorged length, tight in his pants, greets you and you will your brain not to tell your fingers to rub your swollen clit. To busy your hands, you grip the rim until white brushes along your knuckles.

Emerging from the water, it left you smothered in a luster of wet silkiness. Namjoon’s eyes rake over your bare femininity. Heavenly, pure, seraphic. Groans a little loud. Doesn’t know whether to touch you first or his painfully hard and heavy member. You move your body to the side wall of the tub and he follows you, hand opting for his girth to relieve himself a little bit. 

You sit prettily on your folded legs and lean over, pulling his wrist away. You plant a dewy kiss to the middle of his clothed length and look up at him, just at the right time to catch him whimpering. Your clit pulses again and you feel like crying, needing release as much as he does. He doesn’t make it easy for you, making sounds like that.

“What does my baby girl need me to do?” you ask, stroking his member while stifling your giggles at the title that fits him so well. 

“Baby girl?” He frowns down at you. 

It’s usually what he calls you, hence why his confusion. And you call him by an entirely different title, too.

A giggle does escape your mouth after all. You squeeze at his tip, drawing those delicious whimpers out of him again.

“Only needy little baby girls make sounds like that. You are needy, aren’t you?” You lick that sensitive part, palming his balls. 

Namjoon whines. 

The shift of dynamics, the change of titles ever so dizzying to the mind. He doesn’t even have the strength to correct you. 

He grips the back of your head and moves you away from his cock. Then the realization he’s being rough again wafts over him and he softens his hold, fallen stray hairs coming to rest at your temples. Namjoon tucks them behind your ear. Taps you on the cheek once.

“Get to sucking off your baby girl,” he rasps. 

You smile. Find it immensely attractive that he’s embracing the pet name while still being dominant. A masculinity in its true form.

“You can be rough with me if you want to,” you say, wanting to make that clear. “I think I can handle it.”

Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his thumb, pondering.

“Just don’t hit me, okay?” 

He says your name sternly, as if you offended him. “I would never deliberately hurt you. How can you think that?” 

“No, I meant—” You lick your lips. “Don’t slap my boobs or anything. You can spank me, I like that. But don’t be as rough with me as you were. Can we take it slow? Is that okay?”

He stares at you for a moment.  

“Do you trust me?”

You nod, turning your head to press a kiss into his palm. “Yes, I trust you.”

“I’ll teach you, then. We’ll take it slow,” he says, fingers stroking the side of your cheek, where a small amount of fluff creates a path for him to lay down his silent love on. “It was a mistake on my part for not preparing you for it, and for that I’m sorry. But I’ll teach you. Show you how good it is.” He pauses. “Until you beg me for it.”

Your throat dries up. The pulsing in your cunt unbearable. 

“Fuck, Namjoon. Save the talk or I’ll come on the spot.” 

“The talk is important,” he reprimands you. “Whether you come or not without my permission is your problem.” 

“Shit,” you whimper, gripping his hand on your cheek. You tighten your hold as if to brattily change his mind on having this kind of control over your orgasm because you need to come as soon as possible. And not just once. You’re sure your dewiness is leaking into the water. 

“No bad words or I’ll fuck your filthy mouth.” 

You gasp. So unused to this side of him. But it turns you on, now that you feel safe. Turns you unstable.

“Say you’re sorry.”

You’re tumbling out the words before he’s even finished with his sentence. “I’m so sorry.”

He beams at your immediate submission, purring at the quintessence of your compliance. Wants more. “Who are you apologizing to?” 

You pause. His usual title almost slips off of your tongue. But since this is new and you’re both experiencing a new dynamic that causes you to feel so playful, that guides you ever so gently and carefully into the kingdom of subspace, you opt for the pet name that suits him well. “To my baby girl,” you say, laughing softly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” 

He laughs as well, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. You’re giddy that you’re allowed to be wild, your inner child healing and quivering within you. You overflow with the desire to kiss him.

“What for?”

He wants you to say the full sentence. You take a deep breath. 

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry for having a filthy mouth and saying bad words.”

“Hm, do you regret it?” 

You almost curse again. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being bad.”

“Good. Get to work, then,” he says. “Make that mouth useful.”

Fuck.

“Kiss me first, please. Make it better,” you beg, fluttering your eyelashes at him. 

Namjoon moans and you bite your lip. Bends and sucks it between his, deepening the kiss as he opens your jaw and slips his tongue inside. Massages the muscle against yours. Makes those sounds again. Palms his cock. Withdraws with a pop. 

You mewl in satisfaction. That kiss alone ruined you. 

“Good girls get kisses.” Hand under your chin, he squishes your cheeks. “You’ve been exceptionally good. I’m gonna destroy you.” 

He kisses you again with the same intensity but briefly, inhaling your skin. No tongue this time. 

Cheeks awash with rosiness, you hastily unbuckle his belt. Not to cut time and get to his promise faster—on the contrary, you’re dying to pleasure him. He doesn’t help you like he normally does; he merely watches you as you pull down the cotton material of his slacks along with his boxers down his muscular thighs. Only when you wrap your lips around his cock from the side does he throw his head back. Thrusts his hips. 

He’s rock hard. The weight of him makes you absolutely fucked out.

Namjoon likes you there so he keeps you still—there in the middle of his girth. You moan, producing as much saliva as you can to gratify him while he uses your mouth, alternating between keeping those pillows firm and soft. When he gets you to his tip, he expects you to swallow him, but you merely move your head from side to side rapidly, flicking your tongue. Namjoon groans lowly, a string of curse words spilling from his throat. His precum drops onto your chin and you suck in a breath, horny beyond your mind.

You swipe your index finger to collect it. Check if he’s watching before you plunge the digit into your mouth. Roll your eyes back as the tanginess overwhelms your senses. Namjoon hisses. Grabs your braid as if it were a ponytail. Kisses you, aching to be one with you. You feel the vibrations of his fervid mania in unity with him like this and it echoes down your body once he pulls away. 

“Take it in your mouth.” 

Namjoon holds it at the base for you and you find the long vein that you favor so much. Pepper kisses along the length of it, feeling it throb in tandem with your clit. Straightening your spine, you bite your lip. Give him an utter look of adoration before you swipe your tongue along the slit. Humming in delight, you slip him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and you begin to bob your head, fingers following your movement, bumping into his fist. Tears pool in your eyes when you dare to inch closer to his hand and even though you gag, you try your hardest to keep him nice and tucked in your warm throat. You sputter and cough, swallowing around him, because you deem he deserves it, knowing how much he loves it when your flesh contracts around him like that, and Namjoon groans deeply. It fills you with a dose of satisfaction almost akin to an orgasm, the lack of oxygen in your brain heightening the experience so much that your head spins. 

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”

He slips out of your mouth. Pats you on your head before he sinks his fingers into your hair, gripping at the roots. Ascertains you pay attention to him. 

“Don’t do that again,” he says, softly. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath with me.”

You’re still on your knees and he’s merely looking down at you. You fold your hands on your lap. Your mind is so empty that you’re not sure how you feel right now, having been entirely focused on his pleasure. 

Namjoon inhales deeply with his nose and you do the same.

Inhale, exhale. 

Fondly, he caresses you on your cheek.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you explain yourself, thinking that you should.

“I know, baby, and you did. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” He smiles at you. “You hear me? I’m not mad at you.”

You nod your head yes. Pout. 

“You feeling okay? Take a deep breath for me again.” 

You do as he says, your senses returning to you like a warm spring wind. 

“Better now?”

You nod again.

“Words.”

You wet your lips with your tongue. “Yes, I feel better now.”

“Good. Do you still wanna continue?”

“Yes, Namjoon. I wanna make you come.” 

Almost like you flipped a switch, his eyes darken. 

“Hands behind your back,” he rasps. 

You oblige, crisscrossing your wrists below the dimples on your lower back.

“‘Atta girl. Back to work, come on.” 

It’s much harder to do so without your hands, especially in the position you’re in. You hesitate.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admit. 

He tuts in pity. “Should I use you then?”

You roll your eyes back, the idea intoxicating your body. You feel woozy. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Focus on your breathing, okay?” 

“Yes, Namjoon.”

Humming, Namjoon grabs your hair gently and sinks your mouth down on his cock, moves you up and down slowly. You focus on not just sucking in your cheeks but also on breathing through your nose like he told you, although you can’t help but moan around him. It turns you on how he manhandles you to his liking so delicately. You swirl your tongue around his tip once he wants you there and you let out a series of whines and whimpers. He keeps you there for a little longer, moaning after you, the sounds creating a paradisiacal symphony. You twist your head in half circles as you continue sucking him, slobbering all over him, using your tongue to flick beneath the mushroom. 

“So good, baby. Yes, fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re gonna make me come.” 

You pull away, but a string of saliva still connects you to him. 

He blinks at you. “You want a spanking?” 

You run the tip of your tongue along the top of your lip, giving him the eyes. Cock your eyebrow at him. Namjoon draws a sharp breath in. 

He leans over. One hand tugs at your braid firmly to arch your back over the edge of the tub. The other smacks you sharply on your ass cheek, smoothing over the sting. You moan, nipples rubbing over the cold surface, curse words dying on your tongue. Namjoon grips the flesh, spanks you again. Skims his fingers over your exposed heat. Repeats it on the other cheek, twice in a row. You wiggle your hips, needing to feel more, needing him to touch you right there between your legs. You cry out into his ear.

Letting go of your braid, Namjoon kisses you beneath your jaw. Slides his tongue along the sensitive spot, sucking it between his lips. A secret message that he hears you, that he’ll fuck your needy cunt soon.

“Think you’ll be a good girl for now?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nod a few times. Not a single rational thought passes through your brain. 

Namjoon straightens. Pulls down his foreskin for you. “Spit on it.” 

You watch as your liquid love trickles down and lands on his tip. He hums and surprises you by wrapping your hands around his girth, spreading down the lubrication with you. You feel the ridges and the thick vein in a new, vehement way and even though you’re not the one pleasured, you moan. The simple up and down movement grows in rapidness that your body follows, emulating the effort, making it seem like you’re bouncing on a dick. Your ass splashes the water around, creating tender waves full of love, inherited from your still leaking dewiness. 

His hands are so warm enclasped around yours, pressed tight. Not once unclenching.

You start blabbering. 

“You’re so big. I can’t even wrap my hand around you.” You make sure to look him in the eyes as you say it. “So big in my mouth, too. Could barely fit you.” 

Your words set those twilit embers in his eyes on fire. His breathing quickens. He’s close again and you’re stunned, once more, by the vividness of his sexuality. Your hands go limp in his grasp.

“Nuh-uh, keep up the pace,” he husks. “Thought I was your little baby girl?” 

You shake your head, willing your hands to gain strength again, but it has no source to draw from. “Not anymore.”

Namjoon chuckles, darkly. Notices your movements fluctuating, arms shaking. “Tired?”

You nod and he unclasps his hands. You twist your wrists in circles to alleviate them from a cramp. 

Then, you get an idea.

Sitting back on your heels, you arch your back. Tip your chin down and spit on your chest, the essence flowing down the pathway between your breasts. You do it again, though this time you spread it on your skin. 

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon mumbles. Unbuttons his shirt. You squeeze your nipples with both hands as your eyes flick to his, then down to his exposed chest. “How are you gonna address me, huh? What’s my name?”

He forcefully tugs the fabric off of his arms, tossing it on the floor. His body—with its vulgar beauty, broadness and definition—takes your breath away. You don’t let it show, or perhaps you pretend that you don’t because you allow your hand to travel down your stomach. Namjoon imitates you, running his fingers down the chiseled muscles that make you drool. He stops at the hair adorning his pelvis. You don’t.

You rub circles on your clit instead.

“Daddy,” you cry out in pleasure, announcing his title—his rightful, most fitting title. Face contorting at the brisk, blooming flashes of sensuality rising up your form.

His body tenses. It’s like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you, pulling you out of the bathtub and spanking you until your bottom resembles the water. Or tugging at his length until he paints you white with his cum. 

You make it easy for him. 

Lifting your body, you step over the edge of the bathtub. Kneel at his feet on the fluffy black mat. Far enough for him to see purple liquid pearls make their way down to your cunt. Far enough for him to see how you resume those circles on your bundle of nerves, fingers reaching to your hole for lubrication. You roll your hips into your hand, arm propped behind you.

“What’s this show?” Namjoon rasps, his cock twitching. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself. You wanna end up with zero orgasms?”

You pause. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “I believe you have unfinished work to do.” 

You smile mischievously. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 

Namjoon nods. Holds out his hand. “Come to Daddy.”

Exuberantly, you leap into his arms. Namjoon throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and walks into your shared bedroom. Sets you down on your bed, spreading your legs, and he crouches between them, reaching into his bedside table for the tool that he wants. 

The aroma of strawberries lovingly boops you on the nose. Namjoon squirts a good amount of lubrication on your chest, paying special attention to the pathway in the middle of your breasts. He massages it in, incorporates your sensitive nipples in the preparation, coaxing whimper after whimper out of you by squeezing them and rolling them between his long fingers.

“I’m gonna make a mess,” you say, grinding your hips against nothing.

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “Already?” 

Your dewiness oozes out of you onto the bedding. To prove your point, you lean back on your elbows and lift your knees, revealing your dripping hole and the shine of your soaked folds. Namjoon stares at your cunt but doesn’t touch, doesn’t blink. He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes to yours. 

He kisses the middle of your tummy. Moves over to your heat. Licks a tiny stripe on your clit.

You cry out.

“Namjoon!”

Hands on either side of your waist, crawling up to you, he growls. “Good girls are patient, aren’t they?” 

He doesn’t wait for your response. 

“They take what is given to them and they finish what they started,” he continues. “Don’t they?”

You nod.

“And you are a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl.” 

“Then thank your Daddy for what he gave you.” 

Your walls squeeze around nothing when you hear him utter his title. It refreshes your body with energy. 

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile. 

Namjoon kisses you, rewarding you.

“Sit up.”

Changing the layout, it’s Namjoon who reclines halfway on the bed while you sit perched on your knees between his legs, cock in your face. He spurts the lube on his length and jerks himself off, his skin shining in the abrupt spillage of burnt-orange sunlight from the window. Watches your eyes round in astonishment similarly to the way they did earlier when you had gazed upon the glitter swarming around you. 

He nods at you, giving you the green light, and you sheathe his girth into the tightness of your squished tits. You may start a face pace from the get go, fucking him into oblivion, but all Namjoon sees is the whites of your eyes, the glimmer, the pure enjoyment of what you’re doing while the rest of you is immersed in subdued late afternoon shadows. Sweat glistens on the planes of his face, dribbling down to the strained column of his neck.

It’s intense. So intense that he can’t vocally react. 

Precum appears once more on his mushroom, displaying his arousal, and you slurp it up, the braid coming undone—your hair falling around you like a curtain. 

It’s brutal. It’s wet. 

Namjoon gathers your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail and leans over to be closer to you. Needs you like this. Feels his relief catching up to him the more effort you put in, the more you stick out your tongue to flick at that sensitive part of him whenever you can. 

“Want your come. So bad. Want it all over me,” you whisper, and that’s it for him. 

“Say please,” he murmurs, and it’s barely a sound, but you hear him. 

“Please, Daddy, come for me.” 

Pulling your hands away, Namjoon takes charge. Fucks your tits in frenzy, your hair, now half dry, tickling your skin. With his thumbs, he stimulates your nipples to coax those little sounds of yours and—

“Play with your pussy,” he commands. “But don’t come. Tease yourself like you teased Daddy.”

The relief on your face inches him closer to his. He hears the wetness as you dip a finger in, your walls sucking it in. He hears your breath get stuck in your throat. The slow crescendo of your moans. Suddenly, he hears himself too. 

Whiny, desperate, so unlike himself.

It’s a fortress of safety, his forehead on top of yours. His nose bumping against yours. Open mouth ghosting over the sounds of your well-deserved pleasure. It’s a safe place for him to come in.  

And he does. 

Ropes upon ropes of come color you ivory white, color you clean. The reversal of a coloring book—changing the lines, changing the scheme, changing your life. 

You milk him dry, your pussy long forgotten. Milk him until he pushes you away, chest heaving, unable to catch his breath. You just watch him, his seed hot on your chest. Glittery. And not just there. On your neck, on your chin, in the wavy strands of your hair. 

You’re in awe of him. You can see the pressure leaving him like a ghost slinking out of the window. 

Namjoon takes off his glasses. With two fingers, he collects as much of his essence as he can and plunges them into your mouth. The other hand rests on the crook of your neck, thumb protectively over your throat. “Swallow.”

Not for long. Namjoon throws you on the bed. Doesn’t waste time.

He laps up your pussy, clit to hole, sucking your labia into his mouth. He does it again, but this time he travels a bit further. Clit, hole, ass. Tongue flat. Your screams are muffled by the rumpled bedsheet you grip.

Going back to your leaking hole, he circles the flesh before he dips the tongue in. Wraps his arms around your ass to control your squirming, feeling the dip of your spine as the sunlight kisses it. Dust particles spiral in the air—Namjoon sees it. The dark grey curtain keeping half of the world shrouded in dimness while the other illuminated, a picture cut in a heart shape due to the deliciousness of your ass. 

Fuck, Namjoon longs to play with it again. 

He spits on it, rubbing the saliva around it before he slides his tongue back into your wet hole. Says hello to it—long time no see—teases it, before he dips his thumb in. You arch your back even more, welcoming the intrusion, and Namjoon kisses your pussy lips as a thank you. He quivers with the craving to fuck you right there in your ass, but knows better than to do it. You’re not ready for it. 

Spreading you more open, while keeping his thumb there in that sweet place, he begins to focus on your poor little clit. Swirls his tongue around it firmly, sucking it until your back trembles—goes up and down like a seesaw. The kisses he leaves there are obscene, loud, full of thankfulness that he gets to play with you. Full of love for you that he burns bright with—that propels him to flick his tongue harder. And full of joy that his stress is gone. Joy that you’ve been the helper unscrewing the steel body of heaviness off of his because, as of now, his bones feel lighter.

“You’re so good for me.” He smacks his lips against your cunt. “Fucking Daddy like that when he needed you.” 

Vigorously, he rubs his face against you, shaking his head from side to side. You stretch your fingers behind you and helplessly grip the back of your thighs. Namjoon catches one of your hands, holds it with his free four fingers, sucking your clit. 

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, withdrawing to pay attention to your other hole, missing it. Abuses it once he spits on it, eating it, dipping his tongue in with ease since he stretched you. Fucks you there in the only way he can. 

“Wanna come?” he asks and as he waits for your answer, he goes lower to drink your freshness, not letting a drop go to waste. 

You’ve lost your voice screaming. “Yes, Daddy, please. I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, let me come,” you croak. 

Namjoon makes a sound of appreciation, proud of you for holding out for so long without saying anything.

“I think you can,” he says. Stuffs a finger into your dripping hole and lets you adjust for a moment. Adds another. “I think you can hold it while I count to ten.” 

His digits pump into you slowly. Kneeling by your side, he turns your head so you can see him, twisting your body into the position he wants. The curve of your back is so beautiful in his sight that he can’t help but run his free hand over the route that your spine has become. The route he wants to plant kisses on like flowers of various colors, adding to the coloring book, erasing the old. 

And he does. Begins at the nape of your neck. Picks up the speed.

“One.” 

You cry out. First before your tears rush out, pooling in your waterline. You clench your whole body in naive hope it would stall the orgasm, but it quickens it, squeezing his fingers in, so you relax your muscles. 

“Two.” 

A kiss to the first round protrusion of your spine. Shifting your weight to your shoulder, you take his cock into your hand. 

“Three.”

The middle of your shoulder blades. You hear your wetness oozing out of you, the relief prowling closer. You whine and Namjoon understands.

“Hold it or I’ll stop,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers. Relax.” 

You match your pace with his. Namjoon begins to pant. You feel his hot, heavy breath beneath your shoulder blades. 

“Six.” 

Ass shaking from the force, he jackhammers into you. Pulls out for a moment to spank you, a merciful gesture, before he’s back in. Leaves a wet fingerprint on your skin.

“Eight.”

The last protrusion of your spine. You silence your moans by pressing your hand against your mouth because they bring you closer to your orgasm, however Namjoon yanks your arm away. 

“Make those pretty sounds for me, come on,” he huffs, kissing both of those dimples on your back. “Ten. Come. Come for Daddy. Come all over his hand.”

And you do.

It’s a paradise, the heat closing in on you. The loss of hearing, the muted ringing, resembling the flap of a bird’s wing. The loss of surroundings as you’re momentarily transported somewhere entirely else. A gilded illustration, perhaps a lively projection. Something, somewhere, where all is good. The orgasm rips through you and the repetitive echo of his name leaving your mouth is what brings you back. Away from the storybook into a brand new coloring book.

Namjoon strokes your hair. 

He holds you in his arms, but something sticks you uncomfortably together. You peel yourself off of him and cringe. Strings upon strings of his come, gleaming with speckles of glitter, do not want you to leave. You sit on his thighs, resting your palms on his chest. 

He kisses you. “Are you okay?”

You nod with droopy eyelids. 

He carries you into the shower and makes a way for all colors of the rainbow to perfuse your body. To create a new storyline for the day, for the week, for the month. Reds and pinks show their faces first in the steam, and even though Namjoon is glad to see them, he looks forward to meeting the rest. To learning their objectives so he can fulfill them. 

Grabbing the yellow book on the way back to the bedroom, Namjoon makes himself comfortable beside you. Is careful not to touch your face out of habit because you have a face mask on; careful not to bump into you either because you have a plate of mozzarella and sliced tomatoes on your lap. He kisses your hair, though. Doesn’t have the strength to fight internally—grabs your jawline and ever so slowly and heedfully, he kisses you, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly. 

“When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous cockroach in his bed.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[eyebagshawty]

Did you get a request? It's Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor. Thanks!

Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav (Part 2)

A/N: Every picture is from Pinterest (y’all are artists I swear!), as well as the ones in part one. If you recognize one that is yours, please let me know and I will credit you.

Characters: Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor

Part 1

Dammon

• You and Dammon had been flirty ever since meeting in the grove

• At Last Light, you finally get the courage to offer washing up with him in hopes you might become something more than good friends

• When you ask, he genuinely thinks you’re pranking him

• Like genuinely

• “Very funny, Tav. Now did you need something??”

• “Dammon, I’m serious. You’re telling me a little massage wouldn’t be a great gift for repairing Karlach’s heart?” You motion your fingers in the shape of a heart with a cheeky grin plastered on your face

• When he realizes you aren’t kidding, the wine he’s been sipping spews onto the ground

• His blush is furious, his eyes are like saucers, and his mouth is clamped shut

• “That would…. That would be nice,” he mumbles shyly, “Just tell me when and where and I’ll meet you.” His fingers brush against yours and he’s SO SHY as he walks back to the bar

You draw a bath in the massive tub in the private room Jaheira let you stay in. You hear a curt knock at the door, and tighten your robe. “Astarion I swear if you want food after so clearly declining earlier I swea-“. As you open the door ready to give the vampire spawn a piece of your mind, you’re met face to face with Dammon, who is sporting a very bewildered expression. Your face goes beet red and your mouth promptly closes.

He gives a light chuckle at the embarrassment on your face. “Just finished up work for the day, who knew so many harpers break their weapons so often?” You step to the side and to let him in, and he looks at your surroundings; your laid out armor and evening clothes, your journal that sits on the bedside table, and the long sword he’d gifted you (he really was down bad, he thought to himself) after you’d defeated the goblin camp.

When he looks back over to you, you’re already submerged in the hot water, looking shyly his way. Without a word passing through both of your lips, but an entire conversation being passed through eyes, he slowly undresses as you watch. The tension could be cut with a knife. He slides into the tub, and you take his hand in yours. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, Dammon… ever since this tadpole debacle started.”

His tail involuntarily flicks to wrap around your waist, his eyes widening as he tightens his grip on your hand. “I feel the same, I never thought my time in Avernus would lead me to you,” he whispers as he leans closer to you, his lips hovering over yours. Just when they’re about to meet, you smile teasingly and move away, grabbing the provided soap and tenderly scrubbing around his horns. He moans softly as he brings you closer to him, his hands wrapping around your waist. “Darling… is this okay? With you?” His voice is breathy as you continue to wash and work out soap in his hair.

“Of course it is,” you whisper back, and you press a soft peck to his lips. He instantly melts as you continue to scrub soap into his shoulders and back, kissing your arms, your chest, anywhere he can reach.

Rolan

• You and Rolan had already been together at the tiefling party, so his face morphs into a smug smirk when you offer to wash up with him at Last Light

• “Well, future hero of Baldur’s Gate, back for more?” His tail wraps around your calf and you shoot him a playful glare as your cheeks burn and your heart flutters

• Karlach and Shadowheart are just grinning smugly from across the room, and you try to ignore it but his tail yanks your leg a bit, and you stumble into his arms

• “Trip over something, hero?”

• You swat at his chest, “Wouldn’t you like to know wizard boy, go find an orb to ponder,” you huff out

• He squeezes your cheeks together and chuckles, “Give me ten minutes, darling. I’ll be there.” And with that you promptly run away to Shadowheart and Karlach who bombard you with questions

As you wait in your room, the bath filled with hot water and the scent of rose oil lingering in the air, you think about the time you’d spent with Rolan over the course of your journey. Complimenting him on his apprenticeship after convincing him to stay in the grove, having sex at the celebration after defeating the goblins, and how he’d insulted you when Cal and Lia went missing. You’d say your relationship with him was complicated — you didn’t even know if he liked you really.

With a sharp knock on your door you bolted up and answered. “Hello princess, the most talented wizard of this generation is hence at your service.” You chuckled at his cockiness.

“Hello to you too Rolan, come in, please.” As you stepped aside to let him in, he placed his hand on your hip to move by, his lips surprisingly close to yours as his tail swished back and forth. He looked down to your lips, back to your eyes, and kept walking. He immediately stripped down his robes, only to laugh at your beet red face.

“What’s the matter hero? You’ve seen me before,” he laughed. However, you could see an inkling of softness in his eyes and a small blush darkening his cheeks. You roll your eyes and begin to remove your medium armor. Rolan sees you struggling a bit and comes up behind you, pressing your back against him as he undoes the clasps. The room is quiet, but boy oh boy if your heart isn’t SINGING. You both sink into the tub, and you begin to lather soap into his horns. He moans softly as you continue scrubbing into the base of his horns, gathering water into a pitcher and washing soap away. “I’m sorry about everything I said when you first got here, darling.”

Your motions pause but a moment in surprise, but you continue with the performance of nonchalance, rubbing soap across his shoulders and chest. “Oh yeah?” As you reach to scrub at his back, his hand grabs your wrist and he kisses it.

“Yes. I was out of line out of fear and you didn’t deserve it. I… care about you.” You give him a beaming smile and throw your arms around him, the water sloshing around and onto the floor. He kisses the crown of your head, rubbing his hands across your back. “That’s a mess I am not cleaning up, by the way.”

Zevlor

• You offer to wash up with him at the celebration after defeating the goblin camp, and like Dammon, he also thinks you’re messing with him

• “You’re drunk, little one. You did wonderfully and I’m so proud, but you definitely need your rest.” He places his hand on your lower back to steady you, looking anywhere but into your eyes

• You put your hand on his chest and giggle, “Sorry I just… wanted to get to know you better,” you keep drunkenly laughing and like,,, the man thinks he might combust when he realizes you’re dead serious

• Your eyes widen when his tail unconsciously wraps around your thigh, squeezing lightly in eager affection

• IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE THIS MAN HAS FELT WANTED PLEAAASSEEE

• He leans down and whispers softly into your ear, “Meet me at the river once the party has died down, my dear.” And with one last squeeze his tail pulls away and he walks back into the crowd flustered as all hells

When the campfire is snuffed out and most people are off in their own bedrolls or having huddled conversations, you make your way to the shore. You dig your feet into the soft sand and remove your evening clothes, letting your hair fall free from its practical braid. You make your way into the water, submerging your head and sighing with relief. When you look back to the shore you see Zevlor, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging in awe.

You give him a warm smile and beckon him towards you. He grins shyly in return, his tail flicking wildly behind him in excitement that he tries to suppress. He removes his armor and strides into the water towards you. He gathers you so that you’re floating in his lap, and ohmygod he’s nervous. You kiss his cheeks and get to work on his horns and his hair, his tail involuntarily wrapping affectionately and protectively around your waist.

“I can’t tell you how thankful I am darling… not many people are willing to help us infernal creatures,” he whispers, but he spits out the word infernal bitterly. You stroke his cheek tenderly with your thumb.

“Don’t say stuff like that. You deserved our help through and through, and I wanted to help you. Whatever my companions thought be damned,” you whisper back, “How hard is it for you to see that I care for you?” You kiss his temple and hover so that your lips are ghosting over his. He lets out a quiet sob, tears streaming down his face at your kindness. He eagerly presses his lips to yours, his hands grabbing anywhere they can touch. You kneed your fingers into his hair and moan softly. When you pull away he whines, his tail squeezing around your waist.

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheeks once more and continue rubbing soap into his warm skin, brushing away each of his tears as you work.

[pink3princess]

john wick x reader hc/ramble

cw/tw: um..a little silly, a little goofy, a little fluff, age gap ( reader is 20+, John is in his 40’s), mentions of tattoos, gn!reader

an: I’m in my keanu reeves era; also this gif makes me dizzy🥴😵; anyways enjoy whores

masterlist

first of all heS GENTLE I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS HES MY POOKIE BEAR CUDDLE MUFFIN

oh my god his hugs :(

i just need to lay down on his chest and for him to rub his hand up and down my back reassuringly after a long day >:(

he loves when you scratch his beard like a dog(is this weird lol) he finds it so domestic and intimate

ok so...he’s old, so let’s imagine he stayed out of the crime world… he has such old guy hobbies its so cute (he's beekeeping age yk)

he’s into gardening, he's in a band (bassist duh), he fixes up cars and motorcycles

the first time you noticed his back tattoo was when you two went swimming for the first time together

you didn't want to be a creep, but you had to stop yourself from drooling over it the rest of the day

you actually had to stop yourself from licking him head to toe like a popsicle but

speaking of tattoos, he LOOOOVES when you trace his back tattoo; if he can't sleep and you start to trace the pattern, he just melts

and if you have tattoos, he loves to do the same to you

he'll kind of lull you to sleep like that, taking his time with light kisses in between

on another note...i bet he does the 'dad on a vacation snoring so loud he has shaken then entire room awake' snore

and when you get woken up by said snore you're a little annoyed, but whenever this happens you just move to the guest room

after moving to the guest room and getting settled down, you get woken up ....again, only to see this BIG SCARY 6 FOOT ASSASSIN curled up next to you under the covers, hugging your waist as if you were a stuffed animal he couldn't sleep without :(

and you're like "...i actually came in here to remove myself from you-"

he's creeps around the house very quietly, almost like a ghost (unintentionally)

you could be doing laundry, folding the clothes and when you turn around to put them away, he's just there in the doorway like 🧍‍♂️ scaring the life out of you

once you two move in together, he'll gift you a dog :( like you're own little family :(

assuming that reader is in their 20's and john is in is 40's, how could you possibly pass up any opportunity to make old man jokes about him <3

" you know, in a couple of years i get to put you in the old folks home..."

"yeah right🙄, i'd like to see you try honey"

he takes care of you in every way; he makes sure you take your meds, and that you eat at least three meals a day; small everyday things like that :(

if you fail a big test or have a bad day at work he's waiting for you at home with a tub of icecream and ready to spoil you with affection

even tho he's a man of very little words, he'll know exactly what to say to make you feel better with words of praise and affection :(

[starboye]

Addicted

pairing: bryce mckenzie x male reader

warnings: smut, somnophilia, spanking, aftercare, overestimation, crying from pleasure, cursing

summary: from this

"bryce please i need a break" you brokenly beg as bryce pounds into you at an unrelenting pace "i cant stop when i have such a nice hole around me" bryce grunts gripping you hips tighter with each moan you let out "we've been going for hours" you whine "which means you could go for one more" bryce cheerily says smiling wide "how are you not tired" you ask huskily "because this keeps me going" he says stopping his movement momentarily to admire the mess he's made in your hole.

"yeah but we've been going for hours" you say as a small tear drops down your face from pleasure "just think of it as an early honey moon" bryce says "i wont be alive to see it if you keep fucking me" you yell before letting out a moan to the feeling of bryce cumming for the 7th or 8th time, you couldn't really tell anymore because all of them just blended together in your mind.

"you always were a little dramatic" bryce chuckles "finally we're done" you huff moving to get off the bed "ah ah where do you think your going" bryce tuts as he grabs you weak leg "bryce please no im tired" you whine "c'mon just one more time" bryce pleas "you said that an hour ago" you huff "please" bryce begs with puppy dog eyes before kissing you deeply.

you never could resist when bryce gave you those kind of kisses its like your brain just shuts down and you'd do whatever he tells you too "fine" is all you manage to get out before bryce is pushing you back onto the bed and thrusting into you again with a slew of curses falling from his mouth "i promise this is the last time babe" bryce said admiring the way your face scrunched up with every movement.

"you there y/n" bryce chuckles as he slaps your ass harshly "ngh" you whine gripping bryces wrist "someones sensitive" he smirks groping you ass "im so tired" you moan as more tears fall from your eyes "well if you do fall asleep can i keep going" bryce asks slowing his pace for a moment, all you can do is nod as you slowly pass out.

"damn your still squeezing even after passing out, you're one hell of a slut" bryce says holding your ass "you just needed a good fucking huh" bryce asks tilting his head slightly, he feels up and down you body as you lay there mouth agape and looking as beautiful as ever.

as bryces thrusts into you deeply he notices how your belly bulges with every move upward in you, he grabs your hand and lays it over the bulging spot "you feel that baby, thats me deep in you" bryce whispers as a grin creeps across his face.

you writher in your sleep as bryce quickens his pace and the thrust become deeper and harder "i know baby im almost done" bryce apologizes "nghhh bryce" you moan in your sleep "that's right y/n its just me" bryce reassures interlocking his fingers with yours.

with a couple more thrusts bryce cums in you as he huffs loudly and you calm down before going back to sleep, he pulls out of your hole after hours of fucking his dick twitching lightly "you really know how to make a guy feels special" bryce pants kissing your head lightly.

"now lets get you cleaned" bryce grunts picking you up and taking you the bathroom, he holds you in his arms as he waits for the water to heat up, when the water heats up he puts you in before sliding in behind you, you now resting on his sweaty sticky chest.

"br-bryce" you softly say waking up "im right here dont worry" he sweetly reassures wiping the cum off you body with a rag "thanks for this babe" you say nuzzling into his chest "you're welcome" bryce whispers kissing the top of your head before dozing back to sleep.

"such a cutie" he chcukles washing the soap off your body "now lets get you to bed", bryce picks you up out the tub and dries you off before dressing you up in one of his shirts and your shorts, he lays you in bed and pulls you into his chest as he wraps you both in a blanket.

"goodnight bryce" you softly speak before finally going to sleep "goodnight y/n" bryce say tightly hugging you.

[irisintheafterglow]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers. 

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being. 

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile. 

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter. 

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back. 

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon. 

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello. 

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake. 

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper. 

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime 

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you. 

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.” 

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine. 

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.” 

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.” 

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.” 

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[carlmipololo]

Warm

Carl Grimes x Fem!reader

Fluff, blood, cramps (like, very, VERY bad cramps), comfort and loads of sweetness from Carl. (Most prolly ooc)

It was that time of the month you feared again, your period was one of the things you hated the most in the world, bleeding wasn't even that bad, the cramps were.

You had found out you were on your period that morning when you woke up in pain, your lower belly felt like it was being constantly stabbed, ripped apart by something sharp from the inside, and lucky for you, you had stirred your boyfriend awake too.

"What's wrong?" His voice was raspy and groggy, still laced with sleep as he rubbed his eye, looking at the way you remained sat in bed while holding your pelvic area, his eyebrows quickly furrowing in concern. "Is it that time of the month? Are the cramps bad?"

You can't help but nod at his questions, too preoccupied with your pain to actually want to try and mouth a reply for him, and he understands it, if you hated your period cramps he hated them ten times more, he couldn't stand seeing you suffer, and even less when it was a pain he couldn't really help with taking away.

Carl sits up and gently reaches forward for you, his touch soft on your skin as he makes you lay down again, switching places in bed as he checks for any kind of leakage you may have had in your sleep, he notices the stain and is quick to lift you up from the bed. "C'mon we gotta get you clean, alright? I'll change the bedsheets too."

He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet, taking off the flannel he had used to sleep and placing it around your lower belly to provide some warmth to ease your cramps a bit as he starts the water to run you a bath, "just wait for a little, alright love?" he kisses your forehead tenderly before disappearing into the room for a couple of minutes, changing the bedsheets. Returning just in time to turn the water off, checking the temperature before helping you out of your pajamas, being mindful of your comfort as he tries not to stare too much or do anything you wouldn't want him to. "I can get inside myself."

He shakes his head, clearly not accepting that. "Nope, I don't want you passing out on me or something because you tried to tough it off, let me take care of you right now, please." You sigh and reluctantly accept, being carried and carefully set down inside the tub, the hot water soothing your swollen pelvic area.

Carl bathed you gently, his touch caring and sweet as he washed you, and now he had taken the mission of dressing you comfortably, a pair of new underwear along with a pad, his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. "Where did you get a pad?" He smiles sheepishly, looking up at you "I asked Michonne for one for you, she gave me a couple more too."

You muster up a smile through the pain, Carl was always so sweet, so caring, when it came to you. "Thanks."

As Carl eases you back into bed and tucks you in you try and relax a little, but the pain is overwhelming even if you were already kinda used to it, and Carl knows that, so he's quick to pepper kisses on your face before leaving to go downstairs to the kitchen, returning shortly after with a plate of pancakes that were probably cooked by Michonne, a bag of hot water and a chocolate bar he was saving up in the freezer.

"Alright baby, let me take care of you." His hands are gentle as he places the bag of water over your lower belly, taking a seat beside you on the bed and feeding you patiently, helping to try and ease your pain through every painful cramp with kisses and sweet words.

[...]

"I can't take it, I hate this." You say softly and start sobbing, it had been hours and your pain only seemed to be getting worse, and Carl couldn't help but feel his heart ache for you. "It's alright, pretty girl, it's alright baby, let me get you a cup of tea and make you warm, that will help."

It doesn't take more than five minutes for Carl to be back with a hot cup of tea for you, which he places between your hands to let you drink at your own pace, he had also gotten you a couple pills of painkillers of his own that he had been given after his eye got shot off, it wouldn't take all the pain away, but he hoped to make it better.

As you finish drinking the tea and swallow the pills you ease back onto the mattress, hiccuping slightly from crying before as Carl envelopes his arms around you, warmth, that's what he provided, and you loved feeling warm with his love and care.

"I love you, Carl" you whisper as you let your head rest on his shoulder, your arms around his neck as he cups your lower back, gently massaging it. "I love you too, baby."

You drift off into a peaceful slumber, and so does he when he senses you're better now, and how to not be? If he kept you so warm and comforted, you felt like even the greatest pain eased between his arms.

What the fuck did I do help. Anyways, I'm bouta die from my own cramps, so this is for all the cramping girlies.

Also, deadass wanted to make Carl play-punch reader in the lower belly to say some corny ahh shit like "evil cramps, leave my princess alone" 💀

Tags: @carlslvr @crxssbowcarl @aurasplanet @lunarnightt @herrera2k @hiro--aoki @twds-things @carlsangel @smollbean42905 @girlthatsinsane

[anananass]

Genshin men reacting to seeing you come out of the shower exposed

warning: really suggestive, actually NSFW leaning but with a touch of love

featuring: Neuvilette, Zhongli, Wriothesley

note: I’m def not feeling some way

Neuvilette

He finally finds some spare time on his hands, so… how else should he enjoy this little bit of free time if not by paying you a small visit? Too many hours have passed since he last got to delight himself with your presence, a time in which despite having his mind occupied with documents, you were at the back of it.

The Iudex knows you must be at your place because he remembers quite well what your plans are for the day, so as to be expected, he wastes no time in getting there as soon as possible.

He learned with time that you like surprises, and often times, his unannounced appearance before your eyes counted as one too. He doesn’t understand why suddenly seeing him makes you so happy, but for some reason, those glimmering eyes you always give him, have his heart pounding with warmth. It’s an odd feeling he’s slowly grasping.

There is one thing to take in consideration, you’re completely unaware of his intention to pay you a surprise visit but… the problem is that you have just finished taking a bath. Of course, you didn’t mention that too him. It’s an ordinary thing to do, so what would be the point of it?

Well, it’s not really a problem. In fact, as soon as you get out of the tub and walk out of the bathroom, the sudden appearance of his rigid frame takes you by surprise. Your eyes widen at his unexpected arrival, yet you don’t worry about being so exposed in front of him. Instead, you feel a surge of excitement course through your veins and you’re almost ready to embrace him in a tight hug.

Neuvillette on the other hand, reacts a lot differently. Despite finding himself to have walked up on you at a rather, inappropriate moment, he mutters an “excuse me.” and pauses shortly after observing the lack of embarrassment accompanied by the enthusiasm in your eyes. It’s soothing to see you so comfortable around him, though, his eyes do linger around your body. He can’t help but look your form up and down, consuming the sight of your gracious body.

His gaze eventually lowers to your breasts, paying close attention to every minute detail of your bare skin. It seems that he can’t resist it, although this isn’t his first time seeing you exposed like that. The weight of his stare is filled with adoration, one that grows with each second spent like that.

He’s so distracted and says nothing, but still manages to offer you a soft smile. That helps you figure that he must feel intrigued because yeah, he almost always behaves like this when you show off a little. It’s both cute and arousing.

“Don’t worry about it. What are you doing here anyway? Weren’t you extremely busy today?” You ask with a broad smile growing on your face which snatches his attention. You can see his expression twisting into a loving one, but before he says anything in response, you wrap your arms around him.

“I have some spare time-“The words leave his mouth right as you are hugging him, and his gentle tone turns a little guttural once he senses the pressure of your body against his. It feels… divine, so divine that there’s a tint of baby pink slowly building across his face, accompanied by a pleased hum. “I wanted to use it to see you.” That sparks an idea inside your head.

“So… does that mean you have plenty of time to spend with me?” You ask, with a yearning look in your eyes.

He notes that and quickly responds with rising desire rushing through his words. “It does.” Is he getting the right message? That you’re suggesting something?

“Then why don’t we go and sit down, hmm?” you lean in closer to place soft kisses along the smooth line of his chiseled chin. “Wouldn’t that be better?” your eyes narrow as to signal your intentions, followed by an innocent smug smile enlarging by the second. Your intentions are to spend some quality time, nothing more for sure.

Your boldness never ceases to surprise him. Neuvillette finds himself in a spot where he can’t do anything but submit to your words. It mesmerizes him how you can say such casual things that hold hidden intentions behind them. He can’t understand how you’re so good at this, there has to be an explanation. You too must hold a power of your own behind those eyes and those motions, and honestly, he’d like to see more of that.

“It would,” he murmurs weakly and allows himself to be led by you.

Zhongli

As soon as you inform him that you are about to take a shower, Zhongli nods approvingly.

“Sure. I do have to go outside to handle some errands, but I should have returned by the time you are done.” he says in a gentle tone that seems normal, but his voice is so sweet that you can’t leave just yet.

“Take all the time you need,” you utter and spend a little longer eyeing the warming smile that begins rising on his radiant face, but there is something off about his expression. It’s as if he is far more pleased than he should be. Like he isn’t going out just to take care of his business, but you brush it off. He’s probably planning to bring you a small trinket, proof of his long-lasting devotion and adoration for you. Just what he usually does whenever he finds the chance to.

You eventually leave to take that shower you desired all day and he’s equally quick to leave on the journey to explore today’s market. He wants to find anything that reminds him remotely of you, that and to finish his errands, of course. They’re still important, though not as important as you.

As such, during his time spent outside, he manages to find something. It’s a rather small gem, petite-sized, but its vibrant colors resemble your eyes so much that he cannot resist but indulge himself in buying it. That is the first of his businesses that he finished, the rest being swiftly taken care of soon after he finds a few more things worth offering to you.

It truly doesn’t take him much to be done with everything, so when he returns to his place he is more than surprised to observe you are still busy with yourself. That’s alright though, it’s not as if time is running out. However, much to his wonder, right when he takes a seat, he hears you sliding the door. Words cannot express just how content he is to hear that.

“I have returned.” his words are calm yet filled with faint eagerness. Despite that, he remains seated because you usually leave your clothes by the entrance so they don’t get soaked.

“Already?” you reply back but shortly after, continue speaking from afar. “How was it?” you’re well aware of what his answer will be but still feel the need to ask. This need kind of puts a halt to you getting dressed, only because you’re certain he really did more than run some errands.

“As usual, though I did something additional.” you can feel that he brought a gift through the softness in his voice. Not the first time and surely not the last.

“Oh? Is that so?” you decide to play it as if you’re clueless, but only because it adds up to your building curiosity. Hell, you’re so intrigued by what he possibly brought that you can’t wait any longer and straight up leave the bathroom to see it with your own eyes. He has seen you naked so many times that at this point, you just don’t mind it.

“Indeed.” Zhongli drones and prepares himself to shower you with affection and recognition because you could be stepping in at any moment, but when his eyes find themselves traversing your bare body, his blood boils with faint intrigue.

The sight of your freshly showered body is something to think of for eternity. You look so stunning that he swears you just keep getting even more gracious and tempting by the day.

“Let me see it!” you urge in a hurry and take a seat right next to him, with an expression of pure curiosity and excitement smeared across your face.

Zhongli chuckles, eyes glinting in adoration and maybe a little bit of amusement. “Gladly, but aren’t you getting cold?” he replies with a tint of worry and wonder in his voice, and maybe a bit of desire as well. He even nudges you with his arm to reinforce his curiousness, but also to feel your freshly sensitive skin.

It’s a bit incredible how he seems so composed but deep inside boils with a growing longing to feel you like that for a little longer.

His question causes you to raise an eyebrow toward his need to ensure you’re not freezing, but in reality, yes, it is getting a little cold for you. Maybe postponing getting clothed wasn’t such a good idea.

“Only a little.” you agree and almost start rubbing your arms for some warmth, but you don’t even get the chance to.

Zhongli rushes to place an arm around you, running it up and down in an attempt to bring a little bit of heat. He firmly pulls you closer to his chest and doesn’t seem to let go any time soon. He knows what he’s doing, and honestly, the suddenness of his gesture makes you feel a bit tingly.

Simultaneously, he senses his appetite growing, but he can’t proceed without a single signal from you. damn, that only makes things worse for him but that’s fine, he’s holding strong.

“Allow me to take care of it.” his words leave in a hoarse yet calming tone, and fingers are lowered to your waist. He makes sure to caress your bare skin with pressed yet soft touches, applying close pressure around every inch of your upper body. There must not be a single place left untouched.

How else can you reply to all these other than by humming in pure bliss? It feels so good to be embraced… and handled like that. The diligence of his motions accompanied by the vibrations of his voice sure makes you feel some way. It has such a big effect that when he accidentally digs his fingers in your flesh, you bury your head in his chest and whimper. You want him to go a little lower, to feel his digits trail your curves. At this point, you just want him to do more, to go ahead and spoil you with an intimate touch, but you aren’t able to voice that wish with how good you’re beginning to feel.

Furthermore, you sense your folds begin to pulse with a sudden need for more and he can tell that just by the way your gaze lifts to lock eyes with him. The twisting of your expression into one of need sends shivers down his spine.

“Could you go a little lower? I feel really cold down there,” you beg at last and he’s quick to comply without any hesitation. Maybe his gifts can wait a little longer.

“Sure. Anything for you.”

Wriothesley

When you tell him you want to take a shower, Wrio’s lips curl into a suggestive smile. He seems to be looking forward to that, though you can’t quite grasp the reasons as to why he’s so intrigued by something so mundane.

“Is that so?” you feel that mysterious chuckle of his surge all the way down your spine and shudder with wonder. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and brew some tea for you to enjoy after.” the Duke offers and leaves while flashing a playful wink that only drives you to question what all these are about.

You don’t even get to say anything to him that poof, he’s already gone. But you know what that wink means, it’s his way of telling you he’s planning something. The tea is just a cover for his true motives that remain uncovered, but as much as you stretch your head to solve this puzzle, you can’t lie to yourself. That mischievous grin got you feeling really hot, so at this point, you just want to finish that shower faster.

Despite that, you end up taking your time with that shower to prepare yourself for his grace, should he really be hinting at something naughty. You layer yourself in his favorite scent in a small attempt to lure him in once you’re next to him. And when you finally finish, you dry yourself and shortly after reach for your clothes. Yet, you hold yourself back for a moment as the thought of his possible reaction to you walking out naked runs inside your head.

Just how would that make him feel? Does he think he’s the only one who can play and tease and all that? Nuh-uh, this game can be played in two.

Thus, you confidently step out of the bathroom, convinced he is already waiting for you by the entrance of the door yet when you can’t seem to find him, you stare around in bewilderment. Your eyes analyze the space around you, ultimately leading you to conclude that he really might be making some tea. That only means you have an advantage, there is no way you won’t use that.

With silent steps, you pace your way to where he holds his tea collection, and there he is, brewing some tea. You can see his back toward you, so obviously you take the opportunity to sneak up on him. As soon as the narrowing gap between you two turns to nothing, you hug him from behind and slowly press yourself against his rigid body.

Wriothesley takes notice of your presence as soon as he feels the touch of your body slowly brushing against his. He shudders a little and lets out a surprised gasp.

You sense his body tense slightly and relax almost immediately, after which a guttural chuckle slips his throat.

“Already done? I was hoping to surprise you.” his murmur comes out with a soft sigh as he remains in that position to finish the job first. After all, he promised you tea and it’s almost done, so spending a little more time to finish it wouldn't be that bad.

“That’s alright. I can wait.” his lack of notice is more than amusing. However, the growing tension causes your chest to tighten in anticipation. You can’t resist but loosen your embrace around him to which Wriothesley reacts immediately by letting out a yearning hum.

“Is that so? Then I promise it won’t take longer than a few more seconds.” He makes the promise as he always does, so you decide to give his ears the blessing of a playful chuckle.

But despite your patience that’s running out by the second, he finishes the preparation sooner than you expected him to. You slowly retract your limbs and wait, but when the Duke swiftly turns his body and looks your way, the sight isn't what he imagined.

Upon seeing you in all your splendor, he freezes in place. Icy eyes spare no time to look at all his favorite spots on your body, paying close attention to the lower under your stomach. The look of surprise is slowly taken away by one of anticipation his eyebrows furrow and a slight smirk evolves from his partly open lips.

At this point, this silence that settles in makes you feel a little flustered. Won’t he say anything at all? You like just how much you’re distracting him but… come on, say something. Don’t just stay like that.

All these thoughts cause a rosy flush to appear on your face, followed by a need to take a sharp breath to loosen yourself.

Wriothesley sees that his silent behavior seems to affect you, but instead of saying anything to lighten the atmosphere, he lets out another chuckle. Cold gaze fixes on your reddened face to draw out any gram of your attention, and once it's done, you feel his digits creep against your hips. It forces you to let out a faint gasp, the result pleasing him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of receiving a gift like this?” He asks as if to tempt you into telling him you just feel like a naughty trickster, one that thinks is in charge for a brief moment. Though, truthfully, your little scene did give his heart a throb, one he can hardly shake off. “I didn’t even finish the tea in time.” His playful tone is making things a lot harder for you, so much so that you find yourself in a tough spot. In the end, you can't really play this game, not with the circumstances that ultimately betrayed you.

Still, you manage to let out a huff that tentatively masks your flustered nature, only tentatively. “You did not but…” you pause, and in a faint attempt to keep your cool, you wrap your hands around his broad shoulders to balance yourself. “I do not need a reason to be comfortable around you.” an honest answer, one that signals just how secure you feel around him while being so exposed.

Wriothesley stares at you in shock, the adoration and affection slowly rooting in his warm eyes. He looks at you for a few seconds and does nothing but pull you closer. His gaze is so deep into yours that you can tell you kind of hit a weak spot by telling him that, which you did anyway. That answer you just gave him… how do you always do this? How do you always end up turning such simple things into reasons for his heart to clench?

A few more seconds pass by and he still can’t seem to cease his prolonged eye contact whose longing tint of love only seems to grow wider. Maybe it's just the fact he can’t find a good comeback that’d melt you, or maybe it's just him falling for you more than usual. Actually, it's a mix of them both.

You just don't grasp the weight of your words, do you? You can't just come to surprise him, be naked, and say this lovey-dovey shit, it’s not fair. These actions do have consequences… you know?? You shouldn't be allowed to just walk away without having to deal with them, but that can be postponed for a little longer.

Speaking of consequences, this whole stunt you just pulled caused a bigger trouble to arise. One you can handle, right? But don’t worry, he has his ways to ensure you are able to bear his means of actions.

“You know your way with words better than I do, don't you?” his grace asks in a hoarse voice as he leans in to press his lips against yours. His digits slowly trail upward to your waist, drawing soft rubs against your skin as he begins working his way. “I didn't know we switched places for a moment.”

[mosaickiwi]

Nails, TV, Moving

Rendacted paints your nails and 'asks' you to move in. 1.3k words, GN reader c:

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~

"Unfortunately for our contestant—" the host’s words get cut off as you press a button on the remote.

"Booooo," you jeered at the TV from your spot on the floor and changed the channel. 

Ren hummed softly at your voice, but didn't look up. Despite the dark bangs that obscure their eyes, you can tell they’re focused. He was happily painting your nails—the same shade of black as his own—at your request. He insisted you sit as close as possible on the blanket he laid down, instead of across the coffee table. He'd only ever painted his own nails after all, so the angle was very important to keep him from messing up. You were certain he just said that because he wanted the closeness.

The screen barely flashes a few frames before you're changing it again. A football game, a cartoon, a drama, and then—you finally stop. There's a couple wandering through a cabin, with a disembodied voice narrating all it had to offer. One of the many house hunting shows that came on every so often.

"Oh, this one's pretty." You put down the remote to watch. The couple head upstairs where the master bedroom is and your excitement quickly dies. "Maybe not. The bathroom is a huge let down."

Ren casts a glance up at the TV as the camera pans over the room once more. He took in the slanted ceiling, with the tub stationed on the lower end, lit up by an angled skylight. He didn't really see whatever problem you had. "What's wrong with it?" he asked.

"The ceiling is already so low. You'd have to fold yourself in half to get in that tub, tall as you are. And you'd probably hit your head every time you got out. We couldn't live there," you grumbled and rested your chin on your free hand, eyes never straying from the screen. "No way I'd put you through that."

You didn't notice how he perked up when your concerns involved him—you even said ‘we.’ A miniscule drop of polish fell on the paper towel under your hand. He wasn't sure if you were being considerate, or if your perfectly normal relationship was at the point of buying a home together. He hoped it was the latter. Either way, including them already planted ideas in their mind. "So then, what's our—your ideal home have?"

"My ideal home…" You’d only really thought about things you didn’t want, thanks to your current apartment. "I can't say I'm very picky. No holes in the walls, enough room to breathe, no rats," you paused for a bit—now they were in a rather awkwardly shaped second bedroom. "When I was little I wanted to live in a bounce house. Or have a freezer dedicated to ice cream."

Ren smiled while he carefully painted the nail of your pinky. "One of those is doable."

"True, but I'd rather not blow up my house every day," you joked and continued pondering. "The location is probably the most important, right?" He silently nodded in agreement as you went on. "Corland Bay's nice and all—having everything so close together makes things easy. Except sometimes I wanna fall asleep without hearing cars pass by or Violet playing games. It's much quieter here. Plus your bed is comfy."

"You're more than welcome to live here, Angel," he innocently offered. “Although maybe you’d enjoy somewhere more secluded.”

“Like just out of town? Not too far from civilization. I'd still wanna be near the beach." You watched the couple fuss about the kitchen in another house before you really processed what he just said. You turned to look at him for the first time since the show caught your interest. "Are you asking me to move in with you?" 

"Oh, is that what it sounded like?" His tone was full of shock, but you could see the way his snake bites pulled up in a faint grin. He examined your nails and lifted your hand once he deemed it finished. "I do have all this space, though. The library’s close by. Beach is a short walk away, too. No neighbors, no noise. I've never had a rat problem. I guess it hits all the marks f’you, doesn’t it, Angel?"

"Ren…" You rolled your eyes at his antics. 

"If you really want to move in that badly, I'm not opposed," he said teasingly. "Other hand."

You didn't respond just yet, merely giving them a playful side eye and placing your hand flat on the table. Gently, you blew air on your wet nails while he went to work. The noise of the TV faded into the background as you thought about his offer.

It was a big step to take. You already spent a fair amount of your time at his place. The ever-dwindling amount of laundry you did at home served as proof. Cohabitating with them wouldn't be much different from now. Ren always gave you space when you asked, even with his clingy personality. He was tidy, quiet, and never made a fuss—the perfect roommate on paper. The real issue was money. A place like this would cost way more than a librarian’s salary could pay.

"As much as I want to, I have to consider rent first," you thought aloud, causing him to stop and look up.

"Angel, you don't need to pay anything." His answer was almost immediate and it surprised you how firm he sounded about it.

You shook your head. "I know I probably can't do half, but I’d like to do my fair share. How much is your rent each month?"

"Well, actually," he stalled and idly rolled the nail brush in his fingers before putting it back in the bottle. The rent was one thing he couldn’t be bothered to keep track of. "...I have no idea?"

"How—what?"

"It's an automatic payment so I never think about it," he admitted, explaining further at your incredulous expression. "I mean I definitely saw it when I found the listing—and when I signed the lease. But I can't remember it off the top of my head."

You had a hard time believing what you were hearing. You knew your own rent by heart—it mocked you every time it took a chunk out of your bank account. A question about how he budgeted weighed in your mind, although the rather calm way Ren spoke clearly answered it: he didn't. It seemed obvious now; he'd been a frivolous spender from the beginning.

The blank look on your face made him a little worried. "Honestly, Angel, it’s not an issue. I’ve been paying it on my own just fine," he insisted. "You don’t have t’worry about any cost if you stay here, I promise.” He’d be happy as a clam to pay triple whatever he already was if it meant you'd move in. Hell, he’d even pay for you to live in one of the empty units next door.

"Fine then," you sighed in defeat, glancing towards the TV screen for a moment. The show was already ending. "If I tried to give you money you'd just find a way to give it back anyways.”

Ren let out a faint breath as if he was holding back laughter, but didn’t disagree. "So, how about it? Gonna move in?” he asked with a sincere smile.

You couldn’t help but smile the same in return. “Yeah, why not? I’d be crazy to say no. I can talk to my landlord and be out in a few weeks, probably.”

His excitement only seemed to grow at your words. He was radiating silent joy, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as he uncapped the bottle of polish once more. You could almost imagine a tail wagging behind him as he tried to make steady brushstrokes over your nail.

“Are you really that happy?” you laughed and he nodded. “Maybe I should just move in tomorrow.” His hand barely slipped, leaving the tiniest streak of polish on the side of your ring finger.

“Oops,” he muttered.