#my bones already feel like there is a layer of dish soap on them

[bingsucks]

Even if Trobed isn't romantically canon (and it won't be im 99.9% sure) we can all agree that they've most likely had a conversation between seasons 1-4 where Troy was like "you know, if you were a girl, i would date you" and the only reason i dont include season 5 is because if they had that conversation right before troy left it would be less jokey and more "help me find a reason to stay" and I wouldn't be abls to handle it emotionally. Or physically

[pillage-and-lute]

@thequeeninyellowlace requested “ Geraskier discovering that angry, testy Lambert is actually a big kitten? ❤️❤️”

Warning: some derogatory language, especially anti-sex work slang (although all the witchers are canonically pro-sex work)

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“I can’t believe you brought your bard to the keep,” Lambert groused. It was the same complaint he’d had all week, ever since Geralt arrived with Jaskier in tow.

“He’s my bard, this is my home,” Geralt said. “I wanted to bring him here.”

Lamberts stood, slamming his mug on the dinner table and glaring at Jaskier. “You wanted a whore to warm your bed in the winter.”

“No,” Jaskier said calmly, turning over a page in the book he’d borrowed from the keep’s library. “Geralt wanted a slut to keep his bed warm in the winter. That’s me.”

“I don’t see a difference,” Lambert growled.

“Lambert c’mon,” Eskel groaned. “This is getting old.”

“The difference,” Jaskier said, speaking over the scarred wolf but not looking up from his book. “Is that I love Geralt very much and I fuck him for free.”

Lambert stormed out, presumably to go throw things about in the armory. Geralt pressed a kiss into Jaskier’s hair.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “He’s not good with change.”

“It’s okay, dear heart, I’m sure he’ll warm up to me.”

Eskel stood and began clearing the dinner dishes. “Good luck with that,” he said.

Vesemir smiled across at Geralt and Jaskier, who were sitting so closely entwined. It was good to see his reclusive pup happy, and he had an idea what had gotten under Lambert’s skin. Before he retired to the library, Vesemir paused, resting a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Jaskier smiled in return.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

Some days later the younger wolves were relaxing in the hot springs after training. Vesemir had well and truly put them through their paces and their muscles needed a good, long soak. 

Jaskier appeared, looking almost as beat as they felt. He’d been tending the handful of sheep and two goats that Vesemir kept, mending their fence today. In the cold, with the animals butting in and distrustful, it was hard, slow work. He slid in beside Geralt with a sigh.

Lambert huffed, but, exhausted, wasn’t about to leave the hot springs. Eskel eyed him in amusement.

Geralt, to the shock of everyone but himself and Jaskier, curled himself in and rested his head on Jaskier’s shoulder. Jaskier didn’t even blink and instead reached around and began stroking Geralt’s back and shoulders soothingly. This continued for a few minutes, the other wolves watching a little dumbly. Then Geralt pressed a light kiss to Jaskier’s collar bone and turned around on the ledge, resting his arms out of the bath. Jaskier took this in his stride too and began firmly kneading out the knots between Geralt’s shoulder blades. 

Lambert saw the difference now. Jaskier wasn’t a whore, because even the best paid ones wouldn’t touch so...reverently. They didn’t gentle the tension out of scarred skin and pull the knots from muscles. He shot a glance at Eskel, who was watching with the same half envy half hunger that he felt.

Then Jaskier just got up and walked over to a basket settled next to the wall. He and Geralt had brought that too, it had soaps and oils in it. Jaskier hesitated for a moment, then he picked up the whole basket and brought it to the edge of the hot spring. 

He settled back in, seemingly unaware of the eyes on him, and handed Geralt a bar of soap. It was the usual pale yellow-white color for soap, but Vesemir made all his soap in a big vat and it smelled to high heaven and cleaned by taking a layer of skin off every time it was used. This stuff smelled nice.

“Chamomile,” Eskel said, sniffing. “And bergamot?” 

“Very good,” Jaskier said. “It’s Geralt’s favorite.”

Geralt having a favorite soap was news to his brothers, but they didn’t comment. Jaskier poured a little oil into his hands, but it was mixed with soap or something, because he rubbed it into a bit of a lather and began to work it through Geralt’s hair. 

Geralt reacted like a pampered housecat, arching back into the touch and humming as Jaskier worked. The bard seemed to be doing something of a scalp massage while cleaning and the wolves heard a rumble start up in Geralt’s chest.

It wasn’t purring, not exactly. But all witchers could do it, only when they were truly relaxed of course. It was a whole chest rumble that always seemed to soak into their bones. Lambert scowled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d purred.

Eventually, with Geralt boneless against the side of the pool, Jaskier finished, rinsing the suds from snow white hair and kissing the back of Geralt’s head.

“Alright,” Jaskier said, pulling two more bars of soap from his basket. “Pick one, each of you.”

“What?” Lambert said. 

“I brought five types of soap, Geralt told me about what you all have up here. So I brought his and mine, and one for each of you. Vesemir already picked his.”

“Did he?” Geralt asked.

“Yes dear heart, he gave me the tour the other day, picked that fig and goat’s milk one I brought”

“Hmmm,” Geralt replied, seemingly fast asleep.

Obediently, and somewhat hypnotized, Eskel and Lambert leaned forward to sniff each soap bar. 

The first made Eskel’s nose crinkle, and he quickly moved on to the second one, but Lambert lingered. The first one was nice. 

It was slightly green, which was weird, but it was nice.

They each picked the one they wanted and Jaskier smiled. “Excellent,” he said. “Now let me wash your hair.”

“Geralt,” Lambert said, immediately on edge. “Your bard is trying to fuck us.”

“My bard,” the white wolf answered drowsily, “Is trying to help you. Be nice.”

“You first,” Lambert muttered to Eskel. Eskel just shrugged and let Jaskier work on his back, settling in to a very similar position to the one Geralt had taken. He let out a few grunts as the bard worked skilled fingers into the cords of muscle on either side of his spine, but they certainly didn’t sound pained. Eskel even chatted quietly with Geralt as Jaskier worked. Then, obediently, he let Jaskier wash his hair.

“The soap you picked is oat and lavender,” the bard said. “So I have lavender oil for your hair, but tell me if it’s too strong, we can use something else.”

Eskel sniffed as Jaskier poured some of the faintly purple liquid into his palm. “Smells fine,” he said. Jaskier smiled, humming faintly as he worked it into Eskel’s hair, commenting a few times on how well kept it was. 

“Geralt always let’s his turn into a rat’s nest whenever I’m away.”

That made Eskel and Lambert raise their eyebrows. Geralt had always been meticulous about his hair, more so than was practical for a witcher. Eyebrows raised further when he blushed slightly and avoided their gaze.

The scalp massage continued and, to Lambert’s complete surprise, Eskel began to purr quietly. Jaskier smiled, but not mockingly or cruelly, and continued his work.

Eventually Jaskier finished with Eskel’s hair and then looked towards Lambert questioningly. “I don’t have to wash your hair if you’d rather I didn’t,” he said. “But I like doing it, and I think you’d like it too.”

“Let him, Lamb,” Geralt grunted before Lambert could say anything. 

“I was going to,” he grumbled as he turned around. 

The first press of hands into his back nearly burned. 

Money was scarce on the Path, even with Toss a Coin playing in every tavern. This year had been harsh on many of the villages Lambert passed through too, and they paid him what they could. 

Sometimes he was in the business of returning most or all of the payment, if things were bad.

All that to say, there had been no prostitutes, or bed mates of any kind, all year. Maybe one or two the year before that. Apart from his brothers, who he sparred with and got drunk with, almost no one touched him.

Jaskier touched him like being afraid of him was a foreign concept. Calloused fingers found every knot and point of tension and worked them out. Lambert felt like dough under a rolling pin.

“Where did you learn this?” he wondered aloud. “And why?”

Jaskier chuckled, digging his fingers into Lambert’s neck as he did so in a way that should have set off alarm bells but instead just sent electricity down his spine. “See,” Jaskier said. “I spent my time at university working for a bathhouse to make extra money-well, it was mostly a brothel but it offered baths. I just warmed up towels and sliced soap.”

“Mmmhm,” Lambert said, feeling his mind numb under the onslaught of touch.

“And one of the older women there, Rosie, lovely lady, taught me to make soap and find the right ones. Also taught me about massage, not the happy ending kind, that education I got elsewhere, but good information.”

It must have been, Lambert thought. It felt like Jaskier’s hands were touching his soul through his skin. 

Then Jaskier moved on to his hair. 

Lambert let the feeling wash over him as gentle fingers kneaded into his head, taking away headaches he hadn’t known were there. Manicured fingernails scratched lightly at his scalp. 

It was so good.

It was so nice to be touched when it wasn’t sex or sparring. It felt like a balm on Lambert’s soul and he’d been so jealous. Geralt had brought the bard and gotten all the touch he could want and left Eskel and Lambert without, but he was sharing this. It was like honey inside his brain. To his shame Lambert felt his eyes prickle. 

Witchers could cry. Their eyes didn’t tear up with wind, dust, or pain as much, because that could compromise their eyesight in battle, but emotion could bring tears. 

“It’s okay,” Geralt whispered, although not so low that Jaskier wouldn’t hear. “He won’t judge you.”

“I did too, a little,” Eskel said. Had he? Lambert hadn’t noticed. He let tears fall mixing with the moisture from the steam on his face. Jaskier reached around to get more oil and one landed on his hand, so he brushed a thumb down the tear track on Lambert’s face.

It could have, should have felt either patronizing or romantic. It wasn’t. It was just intimate. Gentle, intimate, platonic touch. Lambert began to cry a little harder. 

Geralt sidled over and leaned against him, pressing their shoulders together. Eskel joined in on the other side so that Lambert was sandwiched between his older brothers. 

They sat like that until Jaskier rinsed out Lambert’s hair.

He’d taken longer on the wash, Lambert noted, even though he had the least hair of the three of them. He was grateful for it. 

Eskel and Lambert watched as Geralt washed Jaskier’s hair, passing Geralt the bottle of oil--mint, to go with the mint and honey soap Jaskier favored--whenever Geralt needed it.

Lambert realised he was purring, and wondered how long he’d been doing it, but he had a pretty good idea.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Fighting Blind, pt 4

Masterlist of all chapters

The meat William had roasted tasted surprisingly good. Perhaps it was just that I hadn't eaten for some hours, but the savoury flavour reminded me of chargrilled chicken and I ate at a pace. William eyed me with some concern as we feasted. Tovar seemed occupied with his meal and didn't speak.

"Where did you say you were from?" The Irishman asked after picking the leg bone clean.

"I didn't. I'm….not from here."

His blue eyes danced with amusement. "That's becoming clear."

Tovar glanced over at us. The flickering flames from the campfire in the centre of the camp kissed the planes of his face. How would he look without that heavy beard? The firelight bathed the left side of his face, illuminating the scar across his eye. I expected most found it fearsome, but to me it gave his face interesting topography.

“And do you plan on finding your way home, princesa?” Tovar drawled.

His mood was really started to irk me. “Why do you call me that?”

He shrugged. “You have soft hands, soft skin. Fine clothes. What are you other than a princess, hmmm?”

“Tovar,” William muttered in warning.

“No, it’s fine,” I snapped. “By all means, don’t hold back, Tovar, if that is your real name. Tell me what you really think.”

Tovar tossed his picked-clean bone into the fire. The flames sizzled a little. “I think perhaps you are a spy, no? Sent by the Chinese to see if we really are on a mission to find the black powder.”

“Black powder?” I echoed, stupidly. Then I thought back to the axe. Gunpowder. Europe wouldn’t have it yet. “If I was a spy, would I really need your help?”

Tovar drank deeply from the water canteen. “Exactly what a spy would say.”

William threw up his hands. “Enough. I’m turning in. Jade, perhaps you’ll keep first watch?”

Ignoring the sneer from our Spanish friend, I nodded. “I’ve been asleep half the day, it’s only fair.”

William took a small pouch from his pocket and headed for the stream, after tossing an identical pouch to Tovar.

I watched with interest as Tovar took out a little linen cloth and a tiny wineskin and followed William. They were cleaning their teeth, I realised. I’d never seen it done before. Of course I hadn’t. Opportunities to see historical figures cleaning their teeth were very few in 2019.

William came back first, drying his face on his sleeve, and offered me the pouch. “I have a clean cloth.”

“Thanks.” I took the dry square of linen - must have been expensive for them - gratefully, crossing his path to tuck behind the scrub.

Tovar knelt by the stream, a little cake of soap in a bone dish by the rushing water. He held a cut-throat razor and studied his reflection in the slow-running, pooling water in this slower part of the stream.

He looked up when I knelt, said nothing, but started to spread a mixture of soap and water over his beard.

I hesitated with the cloth. Should I offer to help? He’d likely bite my head off.

“You don’t have a mirror?” I asked.

He scoffed; shook his head. “I rarely need one, unlike you, princesa.”

“That’s hardly fair. You know nothing about me,” I snapped, staring at the little cloth in my hand and wondering how the hell to use it. I hadn’t read about middle-ages hygiene since I was an undergrad.

“And you know nothing about us,” Tovar replied, his voice low, somehow intimate. He lifted the razor and his eyes went thoughtful.

“Why are you shaving?”

He spared me a glance from those honeyed bourbon eyes. “It’s hot and itchy here.”

I eyed the deadly edge of the razor. If he’d wanted to, he could have slit my throat by now. I’d seen him do it, quick and deadly. “Do you… can I help you?”

I saw him start to recoil. Big bad mercenary accepting help? No way. But there were only the three of us here.

I stood and peeked over the scrub. “William’s already snoring.”

Tovar glared at me and the suspicion in his eyes was almost tangible. “Why would you help me?”

I held out my hand for the razor. “If you slit your stupid throat shaving, I’ll only have William to protect me.”

He hesitated, his scarred hand still gripping the blade tightly. I’d seen his hands before, I realised. In my dreams. I’d felt them on my skin, felt his sword calluses on my most private places. I’d wanted his touch.

“Some might say he is enough,” he muttered, but I could feel his resolve weakening. The smell from his rosemary soap drifted on the air between us.

“Why, are you jealous?” I asked sweetly.

As expected, Tovar slapped the razor into my hand. “At least if you kill me, I will be spared your insanity,” he bit out.

I hadn’t shaved a man before. How hard could it be? “You want to keep any of it?” I asked.

Tovar slid a finger over his top lip.

“Mustache, huh. Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was curious about the shape of his face under the enormous (and probably filthy) beard).

He moved into a sitting position, cross-legged, and I turned his face toward the setting sun, to make the most of the waning light. His beard was very soapy and I dipped the razor into the water, shaking droplets loose before I started to gently scrape the metal across his skin.

Tovar watched me intently as I worked, and I had the feeling I was being weighed and measured. His beard started to fall away piece by piece, and I scraped until only dark heavy stubble remained. His adam’s apple was tricky. I held my breath as I worked, one hand braced on his throat. Touching his skin, feeling his pulse beat, was making me wet. I pushed the feelings away, hoping he didn’t notice.

Finally, I scraped away the first few layers of hair on his top lip, leaving him with a full but not bushy mustache. It suited him, made him look darkly sexy, roguish, especially with the thicker stubble around his jawline. Fuck, he was hot. Just my luck.

Tovar looked at the huge pile of matted beard on the ground. “I suppose I needed that.”

I grinned and lifted the razor. “Let me do your hair, too? I promise not to kill you, unless you annoy me.”

He winged up a brow. How had I not noticed how expressive his face was? My mind flashed to my dream; his hands skating up my naked ribs towards the prize of my breasts. A premonition or just a fevered wish?

“We’ve come this far,” he sighed.

*****

Thankyou @rzrcrst​ for the beta!! Tagging: @badassbaker​ @songsformonkeys​ @a-seeker-of-imagination​ @keeper0fthestars​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @just-the-hiddles​ @agentpike​ @littlemissthistle​ @alldatalost​ @ly--canthrope​ @starlight-starwrites​ @stylelovechild​ @maryan028​ @seawhisperer​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @restingnurseface​ @emesispo​ @havenforafrazzledmind​ @tardisfangurl @holographic-carmen​ @pedropascalito​ @thewaythisis​  @mstgsmy​ @jaime1110​ @10-96dispatcher @talesfromtheguild​ @kindablackenedsuperhero @marydjarin @hdlynn​ ahopelessromanticwritersworld

[ladierayn]

Out-of-State 101: Dorm Shopping

Dorm shopping is the favorite of many incoming freshman, and for good reason. Moving to a dorm is basically moving out and freeing yourself as an adult to make your own decisions about your life and the way you live it. With that said, you'll have to fit basically an entire house in a teeny-tiny living space, maybe even half a bedroom if you're one unfortunately stuck with the smallest dorms in existence. Being an out-of-state student adds another layer to this complexity and ingenuity, as you have to figure out how you'll transport all your new living items from very far away if you're like me. By no means did I get this one perfectly this year, but freshman year is all about learning experiences. This is what I'll do differently next year:

Steal lists. Most of us have no idea where to even start with dorm shopping, but the internet is our best friend. Lists are never scarce on websites like Pinterest, and as you look at many of them you can get a good feel for what you'll really need in college. Additionally, the lists titled something along the lines of "Basics" or "What I REALLY Used in College" will likely be the bare-bones necessities lists, if that's what you're looking for. Check out my own shopping list.

Buy bedding first. The first thing you're going to want to do after you spend more than 20 hours in a moving car is sleep in a real bed. Bedding is also probably going to be the biggest expense, and you want to purchase it early on in the summer if you can to ensure that you'll have it before move-in, especially if you buy on Amazon and have it shipped. My dorm hall has full xl sized mattresses, and bedding for this was even harder to find than twin xl items. Because of this, I bought all queen size bedding, but I also bought clips to hold the fitted sheet to the right size. I did this for two reasons, the first being that my bed at home is a queen size, so I can use the sheets when I'm back at home (which will be twice or three times a year) and because full xl bed sheets with a decent thread count are impossible to find.

Think about what's immediately necessary and what might break on the trip. Personally, I'm not going to stick a brand-new $150 printer in my trunk and pray for the best. Check stores local to your new city and see what kind of small appliances or fragile and expensive items you can wait to purchase when you get there (I also recommend arriving early to do this shopping if at all possible). This goes for things like toilet paper and soap as well. If you know you're going to need it from day one, go ahead and purchase it, but pack it somewhere you know it'll be safe. 

Order online. Most stores that have a website will have a much larger selection of products, colors, etc. than they will in store. If they have free and/or two day shipping, it's definitely worth the gas and time you save going to a physical store and hunting the items down yourself. Amazon has to be by far my favorite online shopping website-- the selection of products from so many sellers and the low prices honestly can't be beaten. 

However, be aware that if you make large purchases online, they will most likely not all come in one delivery of a couple of large boxes. I made this mistake when I ordered most of my items from the Walmart and Amazon websites and ended up having deliveries every day (and even six deliveries in one day). I'm sure the neighbors and the postman have very strong opinions about me.

Chill out on the decorations. If You've only ever visited your campus one time, as in my case, you won't truly have a great feel for how much space is going to be in the dorm. Buy the basics and necessities first, and figure out how to make your room Tumblr-worthy after you know exactly how much space you're working with. 

Keep a ledger of what you're buying and how much you're spending. This is just a helpful tip if, like me, you're working a minimum wage job all summer to afford this stuff and aren't paying for any of it with your parent's money. 

Look at the department store discount sections. There are so many useful things to be discovered here. For example, in the last chance section of Macy's (70-80%) I found a personal coffee pot and a 30 piece Pyrex dish set. 

If you already have it, DO NOT BUY A NEW ONE. This one is pretty self explanatory. If you already have one to take with you, why buy a new one? 

You can also read this on Uloop or watch the video version on YouTube. 

[taehyung-the-baehyung]

clean

◦ pairing: reader x namjoon

◦ rating: m

◦ word count: 1.3k

m a s t e r l i s t

Your hair clung annoyingly to your forehead as your hands scrambled frantically to find something –anything– to hold on to. The cold metal handle of the shower door was the only thing it found amidst your shallow, shaky breaths. His lips were soft, and slick under the running water. Namjoon’s hands stroked up and down your body, swiping bubbled layers of soapy water over you. The bar of soap pressed against your flesh, its subtle scent breathing through the plumes of steam growing in the shower. You could see the faint reflection of yourselves in the mirror through the thick coat of steam on the glass, and it was so fucking hot. His tall body stood behind yours, his long fingers lost in your cunt. He sighed with content and he brushed his thumb lightly over your already sensitive clit. “God, I love you so much,” he grunted, placing a kiss at the nape of your neck.

After spending over a year together, you had learned that the best way to some amazing sex was some highly provocative pictures while he was already sweaty at dance practice and a little audio recording right as he was on his way home. The result was always some exciting and very long-lasting sex trip through the rooms of your house. Needless to say, it never failed.

His lips travelled along your shoulder, leaving soft kisses as his hand grazed up and down your thigh. He was tracing your hip bones softly with the soap before he dropped it suddenly to the hard shower floor and slammed straight into you. “Namjoon, fuck!” You screamed out, the echo reverberating against the white porcelain and glass of the shower. “Shit, yes, yes, yes,” you sobbed, your chest trembling with the glorious sensation of his cock hitting your insides. It wasn’t the first time tonight.

There was not a single hint of gentleness from him, but fuck if you cared at all. He was so big, and hard, filling you perfectly, and there was not a single thing you could complain about. You had teased him plenty for the day and he had every right to make you writhe at his will. You wanted him to. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the silver handle. Namjoon thrust harder into you, his fingers wrapped tight around your waist, shoving you back into him with his every plunge forward.

The sound of your wet skin slapping against each other and the sound of the glass door rattling in its place as your body slammed forward from his force drowned out the breathy moans coming from both of you. Namjoon pushed you up against the glass door, your breasts pressing flat, sending a violent shudder through your spine. He sounded like a broken record of moans now, lathering his deep voice into the softness of your skin as he dug his head into your shoulder, his mouth fixed open. You know how good it felt for him too, just from the way he tried to muffle his sounds with your body. You threw your head violently back as his fingers found your sensitive nub again, the bundle of nerves nearly screaming with pleasure as he flicked back and forth.

The rush of water on your skin fell down at a pressure that made everything unimaginably more lewd. You couldn’t tell anymore whether it was water or cum running down your thigh. You had already released on him so many times in the past three hours: his fingers, his tongue, his hard cock. “Fuck, you can’t stop cumming, can you?” he growled into your ear. Your knees nearly buckled right then, your other hand finding the soap dish that protruded from the walls. Your entire body was spread deliciously against the shower door, Namjoon taking you from behind in the most glorious of angles.

His hands steadied your body, his mouth pressed against your ear, soft grunts leaving the most precious sounds along the ridges of your ear. You attempted to push your ass further along his length, wanting more of him –if that was even possible. The feeling of his chest against your back, his fingers rolling against your clit, his thighs hitting the back of your legs as he rammed deeper into you– it was all driving you insane. Any ounce of sanity you claimed to have was unraveling in the palm of his hand. “God, yes, you make me feel so good,” you mewled, fading off into another fit of whines and whimpers as he seemed to go faster, releasing his tongue over your neck.

“Yes, keep talking like that, baby,” Namjoon sucked hard at the skin of your neck, and you could feel his thigh muscles tense as he pounded harder into you. He loved it when you talked dirty.

The knot in your core grew tighter as the heat raked against the base of your stomach, your entire body writhing in your panted breaths as Namjoon continued to fuck up into you roughly, your body sliding and up and down against the shower door. “You’re so big,” you whined. The thoughts in your brain were completely scrambled as you drowned in the wonderful sensation he was giving you. You couldn’t form a complete sentence, let alone talk dirty to him, but then it again, it hardly took much. “And you always fuck me so, so, well.”

“Oh–” Namjoon hissed as your walls clenched over his cock. You clenched as hard as you could, feeling every inch of his length slide inside you. You felt your cum leak out over his member, sending him into a heavy fit of groans. “Let go for me, baby,” his voice sounded like velvet spilling into your ears, and he didn’t have to ask twice. Whispers of vertigo tugged at your senses, stars erupting behind your eyes. You screwed them shut, feeling the prickly heat through your veins as the warm water flooded over your bodies.

His echoed noises swam through the bathroom, washing over you in heavenly pleasure. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” He panted, his voice scratching in his throat as the raspy groans ripped free from his chest. His pace grew harder and faster and deeper and your hearing started to cut into white noise.

The sensitivity was becoming too much, you walls tightening entirely on their own. You pressed your thighs together slightly, clenching harder over his hard cock. You whined out as he thrust into you erratically. You tried to focus on the mirror, squinting through the steam to find the blurry shapes of your bodies still slamming so hard into each other. His breath shivered as he chased his high. The wet sound of his cock moving in and out of you turned you on so much, despite your entire body weakening against his. “Oh baby…” you mewled. “Cum inside me, baby.”

“Fuck!” Namjoon’s hot seed spilled into you, the sensation making you moan. The heat filled you inside and it felt so damn good.

Your hand left the soap dish to twist around yourself, reaching into Namjoon’s hair, tugging it roughly. “Yes, yes, yes, baby, give me everything,” you moaned, as you tried to let his high last as long as it could. He had been too good to you tonight. When he finally stilled, minutes later, he pulled out of you gently, stepping back with with a long breath of satisfaction. You stumbled backwards, the blissful dizziness pushing you off balance.

“I got you,” Namjoon’s arms were immediately beneath you, holding you softly now. He tugged you gently under the stream of water, his hands stroking over your skin, cleaning you well as you braced yourself on his body for support. You smiled tiredly, watching him focus as he gently brushed your heat with wet fingers. You winced and your breath hitched. He mumbled an apology before stroking your hair back away from your face. He turned the water off and wrapped a towel around you, then pressing your body into his. “Was I too rough?” he whispered, pressing his lips against your temple.

You shook your head with a hummed smile. Your mind was still buzzing, and Namjoon chuckled. “You are perfect.”