#House Bunny GIF

[actressplaygroundxxx]

Anna Faris (32) in House Bunny (2008)

[imnotavamp1r3]

☆🎀 Playboy Easter! 🎀☆

That's it, byeeeee! ˚｡⋆୨୧˚♡

[televisionquoteseverywhere]

The House Bunny (2008)

Natalie Sander & Colby Emmett

[judahmaccabees]

[saltpepperbeard]

I'll take care of you, take care of you. That's true.

[bakerolivia]

THE HOUSE BUNNY ( 2008 ) dir. Fred Wolf

[bob-belcher]

THE HOUSE BUNNY (2008) dir. Fred Wolf

[rabbit-reveries]

—𝑺weet Sister

Synopsis: Aemond fears his youngest sister might fall prey to Aegon's infamous appetite. So, as a dutiful brother, he decides to claim her before he can.

Warnings: Smut, canon-typical incest, innocence kink, slight degradation, pet names, praise, way too many "good girl"s, p in v sex, unprotected sex.

Word count: 5124

He watches his sister with one violet eye, trying to hide in his face the anger bubbling deep in his chest at the sound of her girlish laughter. She doesn't even realize, does she? No, of course she doesn't. Aeressa, innocent as spring's first bloom, gazes at Aegon with wonder, unaware of the web of lies he weaves to ensnare her attention. Watching is so hard— No, he can't risk letting his guard down. A second is all his brother needs. To protect her honor, he must continue to keep watch. In amazement, the girl turns to him and takes his hands in hers.

"Isn't it incredible, Aemond?" squeals her. Incredible indeed. The youngest of the five siblings and Daeron's twin, Aeressa has no way of remembering the event Aegon retells, but the second-born prince surely has, and it was nothing like in the words of the heir. Doesn’t his tongue burn from all this nonsense? Ever since the princess’ first signs of coming of age, he’d been pulling all sorts of stunts to try and capture her gaze, no doubt in hopes of deceiving their poor sister into buying his fake affection and giving herself to him. Aemond watched the same happen with Helaena years before. The fact that he still cares for Aeressa soothes his heart, a clear giveaway that his older brother has yet to succeed in his devious plans. Sweet, sweet Aeressa… Too precious for her own good. He holds her hand over his. If he could, he’d keep her locked to himself, safe from the dangers of the world and its men. 

She laughs again, the glorious sound filling the dining table. The prince watches Aeressa blush as Aegon leans in to whisper something in her ear, clenched jaw and hand protectively over hers. Her expression is soft and betrays no alarm, but she turns away to rest her head on Aemond’s shoulder. He relaxes the tiniest bit. So she hasn't fallen. There is still time. Aegon seems to notice it as well, all the hidden messages in such a small act, and it is clear on his face. He’s been growing impatient, and Aemond pretends not to notice. Pretends it doesn’t frighten him. He knows his brother’s only been playing nice because the subject of the matter is their sister, but that he has no qualms over taking what he deems his. The servant girls are all so very terrified of him. 

In what can only be a desperate measure, Aegon takes the hand that used to sit under Aemond’s and kisses it, leaning once more to whisper in Aeressa’s ear. Aemond turns to Helaena, hoping now would be the time for a jealous fit, but it is only a feeble expectancy knowing her. Characteristically, she picks at her food, seemingly unaware of her brother-husband's antics. It is only by the slight furrow of her brow that he knows the princess isn’t deaf and blind to the scene displayed in front of her. Alicent is sitting at the head of the table and watches her children with a look of worry. If she didn’t have the same look every time she gazed at them, Aemond might have considered it some small victory. Gods, don’t they see this indecency? Is he alone on Earth? Is he the only one who might be able to protect this girl?

When supper is over and all are dismissed, he notices how Aegon corners their younger sister before retiring. Aegon has never been one for subtlety, thank the Seven Heavens. Aemond runs after her, afraid to leave her alone in the empty hallway leading to her chambers. 

“Sister!” he calls, glad to see her grin when she turns and notices it is him.

“Brother.” she exhales, one hand over her heart. “You startled me.”

“Why? Did you think it was Aegon?”

She bites her lip, and it’s all the answer he gets.

“Has he been bothering you?”

Aeressa half laughs. “No, not BOTHERING… He’s just… a bit pushy.”

Aemond walks to her, stopping when he stands by her side. She tries to avert his gaze, but he picks her chin between his thumb and index to force the girl to look him in the eye. “Be truthful, Aeressa. What has he been pushing you to?” 

“Gods, Aemond…” says her, eyes big as the moon set on his “He’s not a bad person, you know?” She places one of her dainty hands over his arm, perhaps trying to appeal to his emotions, but all Aemond can think is how close she is, how his breathing fans over her delicate face. She is so beautiful he almost forgives her for defending their brother. Such a precious gem.

“You don’t understand, Aeressa. You never do.” he shakes his head. “You only ever see the good in people.”

She frowns. “And you only ever see the bad.”

He wants to say more, scold her for her trustful nature, warn her of Aegon’s malice, but no words leave his mouth when the hand that wasn’t holding his arm reaches to cup his cheek. As if by instinct, he covers her hand with his. She is so close. So close. He can smell the oils she bathes in, and see the world of wonders living in the space between her parted lips. She is so close. He could close the distance, taste her if so he pleased. 

Aemond forces himself awake from the fantasies, reminding himself of his place as her older brother. 

“He whispered in your ears during supper. What did he say?”

His inquiry breaks the moment and Aeressa pulls away, repelled by the shock of reality. “I don’t know, he said so many things…” she says, almost musing, and begins to walk down the corridor again.

“Aeressa.” Aemond pulls her by the arm. “I’m not playing with you. What did Aegon say?”

She opens a grin, and at that moment he can’t read her in the least. His grip on her arm tightens. “What did Aegon say?” he repeats, more forcefully this time.

“He wants me to come to his chambers at night. He says we’ll play this fun game. Why is it so important?”

It is universally known how taken with his sister Aemond is. She’d been his little pet from a very young age, always following her older brother like a shadow, her twin by her side. When Daeron was sent away to fight, her attention had been solely Aemond’s, and he’d grown to cherish her company. Now, however, hearing those words coming from her mouth with a smile… He’d never been this compelled to hit her. Stupid girl. His grip on her arm tightens again, this time enough to earn a whimper from Aeressa. 

“You’re hurting me, Aemond! What is going on?” she squeals, trying to free herself. She is so confused. 

Of course, she is. She doesn’t understand the ways of men, she’s just a girl. She has no idea what kind of game Aegon plays - or plans on playing with her. Aemond lets go of her at last.

“You will not visit him tonight, do you hear me?”

“Why not? What if the game is fun?”

He grits his teeth, looking back at his sister’s bewildered expression. How can he explain the world to her? How can he keep her safe? He takes one hand to his hair, mind making work of his questions like a big machine with confusing and missing pieces. Aegon will not stop, even if Aemond himself keeps watch on her door. He’ll find a way, a secret passage, a time of the day when no one will be able to come aid. If there’s one thing he knows about his brother is how stubborn he can get when denied things he wants. And if there is another thing he knows about his brother is how great his appetite is, especially for maidens.

Aemond turns back to his sister, who watches him wearing the same confusion. 

“So you want to play a game?”

“Embroidery gets very boring sometimes…” Aeressa tries to explain herself, gazing low on the ground, cradling the arm he squeezed. 

Gods, she’s afraid of him… What now? 

He sighs.

“Let us go to your chambers, I will play with you.”

She looks back up, childish delight mixed in with a slight distrust. “Will you?”

“Yes.”

She takes his hand and begins leading the way. The girl gets through the door and motions for him to follow, but he tells her to wait for a minute so he can tip the guard with enough gold to buy silence and one night in his sister’s bed.

It is the first time he’s entered Aeressa’s chambers in what seems like forever. It is covered in fresh flowers, the sweet scent filling the space between the four walls. The bed is grand as his own but wrapped in pink quilts and blankets. She sits on the edge of the mattress, swinging her legs a little.

“What game is it, brother?”

Aemond steps closer until he’s standing in front of her, looking down at her smiling face. If there is a time to stop, it is now. But if he stops… He knows Aegon won’t. Taking a deep breath, he cups her cheek much as she did to him in the hallway, face as stone. He loves her, he does, and because he loves her, there is no going back. This is his duty as a devoted brother. She can’t stay this naive forever.

“Have you ever played house?”

“Yes, of course! It was my favorite game with Daeron.” she says, innocent as ever.

“Do you want to play house with me?”

Aeressa laughs, that feminine, childish sound. “I think I’m a bit too old now… I haven’t played in ages.”

“Make an exception for today. I promise it’ll be fun.”

She looks away for a second but soon looks back at him with a smile. “If you promise.”

The prince takes another deep breath, trying to set it straight in his brain how this will go.

“This is the game: I am your husband, you are my wife, and this is our wedding night. Do you know what you are supposed to do?”

She hesitates for an instant. “Serve you…?” 

“Yes. And how will you do that?”

“With a kiss?”

He feels himself smile at that, caressing the cheek he cups. “Very well. Have you ever been kissed before, Aeressa?”

“Only by Daeron when we played house last.”

Aemond has to hold back a flush of jealousy. All this time worrying about Aegon, it seems Daeron had gotten a headstart before leaving for the military. His caresses stop and he holds her face with both hands. He thinks of saying something, but now that he has Aeressa looking up at him with big lavender eyes, there are no words left. All he wants is to claim her rosy lips, and that’s what he does. 

It is obvious she has little to no idea of what she's doing, which brings satisfaction to him. He tries to start chaste but soon finds himself tugging at her bottom lip, trying to get Aeressa to open her mouth for him to enter. When she finally gets the tip, his tongue slides in, and her hand flies to the arm that cradles her face, alarmed by the new sensation. It only amuses him more. 

Startled by the intrusion, she opens her eyes wide and pulls back.

“Your tongue, it’s-”

He can’t help but chuckle. “Yes. That is what a real kiss is like. Do you not like it?" 

A slight blood rush colors her cheeks. “It feels odd, but… It isn’t unpleasant.”

His thumb caresses her bottom lip, a starved look on his face. “Good. Try to match my pace, hm?”

Aeressa tries to pull back when he leans in, but she’s no match to the iron grip of the hands on her face. The prince kisses her again, this time stripping away all of the niceties he paid her at first, going straight for what he wants. His tongue laps at the inside of her mouth like fire licking at tapestries, spreading some weird warmth through her body. It might be the lack of oxygen, but she feels lightheaded, suddenly clinging to her brother like he, the arsonist, might save her from being burned alive.

She pulls away, struggling to breathe. The room is full of smoke. With her eyes now open, she can see the way Aemond gazes at her, and a tremble rushes through her body. His one eye is dark, veiled by a haze of something she doesn’t quite get. Desire? His hands pull her back for another kiss, searing, hot, all-consuming, and this time they don’t stay put on her face. Aeressa notices with confusion he is laying her down on the bed. Aemond can hardly hold back now, pulling her skirts up to grab at her legs. 

“Aemond!” she yelps, sitting up. “You can’t lift a lady’s skirt!”

Yes, maybe he got a bit carried away… This is his sister, his beautiful, sweet, innocent sister. She must be so shaken by his actions. He stops and looks back at the youngest princess and her red cheeks. “Dear wife, it’s all part of the game.” he says, trying to sound confident and not as eager, his hands running up and down her thighs. “As your husband, I’m allowed to see you bare, understand?”

He descends from the bed to kneel on the ground, takes off her shoes and kisses her feet, then starts a trail of caresses that, when close to her thighs, are open-mouthed and fervent. His fingers grip her skin hard enough to leave marks - she doesn’t know it, but this is Aemond struggling to keep his composure. The room is filled with the smell of flowers and Aeressa’s labored breath. Without realizing it, her hands fly to his hair, and she’s pulling him back up for another kiss. 

“Greedy, aren't you?” Aemond chuckles. He can’t help but give her what she wants, though, relishing in her grabby hands trying to pull him closer, impossibly closer. He kisses her ardently, kisses her, and kisses her, his own hands trying to pull her to him. How many nights did he spend awake, fisting his cock, fantasizing about her touch, her heaving breath, her tongue on his, on him… And now she is pulling at his hair, kissing him back as if her very life depends on it.

He pulls back, earning a frustrated sigh from Aeressa as she searches for his mouth again, but he holds her chin and makes her throw back her head. He begins another trail, this time from her lips to her cheek to her ear, where he nibbles at the lobe. “I’m going to make you mine tonight. Mine, no one else’s.” he growls, and, close as they are, he can feel the chill running through her back. “Am I clear?”

“Yes.” she breathes.

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He only wanted to hear her say his name, but the title might be even better. Grinning, he begins following south, down to her neck. “Little princess Aeressa seems to be quite sensitive...”, he thinks, drinking in the heavy breaths she takes when he kisses her neck. Against his better judgment, Aemond sucks in a hickey or two and leaves a bite that makes him want to leave a hundred, hearing the whimper she lets out at the first. He is hypnotized by how her chest rises with each breath, barely contained by the bodice of her dress. 

With greedy hands, he tugs at the strings that hold her gown together. Impatient to have his attention solely on her again, Aeressa helps, and soon the fabric is loose around her. “Are you… Are you sure this is right?” asks her, holding the front of her bodice to not let her breasts spill. She wanted him back on her, but now that it is time to be seen naked, she is too timid to let go of the gown. 

“Yes, this is right. I have never been so sure.” is what he thinks, wanting nothing more than to free her of this godforsaken dress and feel her skin on his. As to not startle her, though, he forces himself to hide the feverishness and smile calmly. “Do you feel wrong, my sweet?”

“...No.”

“Then how could it be anything but right?”

Hesitantly, she lets go of the bodice, letting it fall on her lap, her round breasts now on display for only him to gaze at. Aemond thinks they’re just the perfect size, custom-made to fit inside the palm of his calloused hands. “Good girl.” he praises and kisses her again. Aeressa arches her back in his embrace, entranced by his words, drinking them in. “Good girl.” he repeats. His hands travel along her torso, feeling her up, squeezing, pinching, and scratching. He lays her down again and tentatively pushes up the fabric of her dress, half expecting his sister to stop him again, but this time all she does is lace her arms through his neck to keep him closer, pressing her chest to his.

With her beneath him, whimpering so softly, Aemond feels like he might be in one of the Seven Heavens, or perhaps all seven at once. His hand snakes down between her thighs, and he can’t stop a groan from escaping feeling how slick she is. He wants nothing but to fuck her hard, have her scream his name so loud Aegon won’t be able to miss it… But she is his sister, not some common whore, and he owes her love and respect. This is all for her, after all. His finger circles the entrance of her cunt, the heel of his palm pressing down on her clit

The feeling bubbling down at the pit of Aeressa’s stomach is so foreign, strong enough to make her tremble inside her prince’s embrace. Her mouth is on his like he is the air she breathes, only pulling away at the feeling of intrusion when he inserts a finger inside her. 

“Are you enjoying this?” he asks, hovering above her, his long white hair falling over her face. His finger pumps in and out of her with ease. As if to punctuate his question, he rubs the heel of his hand on her pearl, earning a sharp mewl from the girl.

She grabs at his shoulders, trying to still herself, eyes shut tight as if not being able to see her brother’s expression will somehow stop him from staring this intently at her. At this point, the princess is a blushing mess, her chest and neck covered in hickeys and bites, hair falling disheveled around her like a fallen angel’s halo. 

“Well?” he presses on, now making hither motions that squeeze more sounds out of her. “I’ll stop if you can’t answer.”

Aeressa is often told she is too kind for her own good, always ready to see the good over the bad. At this moment, however, she is sure her brother must be some kind of demon, the only possible explanation for how he toys with her body and mind, so obviously enjoying the shame in her features. “...Yes”

He grins, wicked, and leans in to kiss her. Aemond swallows the cry she lets out when he surprises her with a second finger. “Good girl. Thank you for your honesty.” says the man, in a tone that asks “wasn't so hard, was it?”. Her body is on fire and he’s watching like it is something amazing. Because it is; because he’s completely entranced.

Her heavy breathing and moans fill the room, mixed with one or two sloppy sounds coming from her wet cunt. The symphony is shameful and burns in her ears. Aemond wishes he had the kind of self-control to let her come undone on his fingers, maybe on his mouth later on, but, suckling on her right breast as he masturbates her, he fears this might be too much for him to take. He is so hard it hurts, his trousers now the cruelest prison.

His sister whimpers loudly, unsatisfied, and frustrated when he pulls his fingers out of her. In the candlelight, his hand glistens with her wet. “What? Why did you stop?” Aeressa whines, lying under him with uneven breathing. The one-eyed prince licks one long stripe on his hand, too taken with the flavor to dignify her question with an answer. She tastes sinful, devilish, the forbidden fruit untouched. 

“Open wide.”

“What?” she asks. He can’t possibly mean…

“Do as I say.”

Obedient as she’d always been, she parts her lips and allows her brother to stuff his fingers on her mouth. She can feel herself on his digits, the humiliation bringing the heat in the pit of her stomach to bubble like a witch’s brew.

“Good girl. Such a good girl…” Aemond smirks and kisses her once more, the taste dancing on both their tongues. Aeressa figures he would go back to his ministrations and spreads her legs just a bit wider, waiting for his hand to dip in between them again, but it never does. He pulls back and leaves the bed, standing in front of her confused form now. Why did he stop? She didn’t want him to stop.

Her eyes follow his every move as he begins undressing, making quick work of his clothes. He has a lean, athletic body with marked V bones on his hips, which lead the girl’s gaze to the cock that is proudly erect in front of her. She hadn’t seen one since she was a kid and the servants bathed her with Daeron. His certainly didn’t look like that.

“You’re staring, wife.” chuckles Aemond, subtly reminding her of the game they played. The hand that played with her moved to stroke his manhood, jerking it a few times if only to put on a good show for her. 

“I…” Aeressa starts but is unable to finish. 

He is amused by her innocent yet curious demeanor. Flawless… Legs spread for him, dress pooled at her waist, breasts out just for him to ogle at. She half sits up, supported by her elbows on the bed, waiting with the most perfect expression for him to do with her as he pleases. 

“Now, this might hurt a bit, but I need you to be brave. I promise it'll feel good once the pain dulls.” says Aemond, climbing on top of her again. She lets him, even if in her face she wears some shade of apprehension at the mention of pain.

Kissing her mouth as a distraction tactic, he begins aligning himself with her center and pushes in slowly. It is too late now. Too late. Tears sting on the corners of Aeressa's eyes, which she closes tightly shut, her face contorts itself into a pained grimace, and he can hear a whimper from her, but it's well past the point of stopping. He is inside her, trying to force himself further, squeezed by her insides. She is tight and hot and it might just be too much. He presses his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses touching, their breaths mixing as the two try to keep their composure.

Beneath him, Aemond can tell his sister is crying. Is he being too rough? He could swear… He is trying so hard to be good for her, to go slow. 

“Brother?” she asks, grabbing at his arm like he might keep her afloat. 

“What is it, my love?”

“When will it start to feel good?”

The prince can't help but smile at her words.  She is trying to be brave for him, just like he's trying to be good for her. So adorable it hurts. With tenderness, he kisses her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her cheeks, and, finally, her mouth. “Soon, my sweet. Very soon.” She looks up at him through wet eyelashes like she so badly wants to believe his words. “You are doing so well, baby. You're such a good girl for me.” 

He moves inside her, slow like he believes that maybe if he goes slow enough, she might not feel the pain of the stretch or the breaking of her hymen. A cry from the girl proves his hopes wrong, and he attempts at remedying it by cooing sweetly at her. 

“No, don't cry… You're a big girl, aren't you? You've been doing so good!” says the man, cupping her cheek and caressing her face. 

“It hurts, brother!” 

“I know, I know…” He kisses her teary eyes, salt on his lips. “But you can take it. I know you can. Look—” he nods towards where they are joined, her pussy having swallowed all of him. “You did it. You're such a good girl, such a sweet baby… Such a perfect cocksleeve.”

She looks up at him with violet orbs big as the moon. She didn't think she could do it, but she did it! Isn't it amazing? “And you're proud of me, sir?”

He smiles. “So proud.”

Aeressa laces one arm through his neck and pulls him in for a kiss. She kisses him, sweetly, so adoringly, and only pulls back to wince when he starts moving again. 

He stops immediately and asks, worried as a dutiful brother “Do you need more time to adjust? Is this okay, sister?” 

She bites her lower lip so strongly she might draw blood, but nods. “Yes… Yes, it's alright. Please, move.”

So he does. Slow, excruciatingly slow. It takes all of his self-control to keep himself from ramming into her. Everything about how she feels around him is perfect, and he just wants to make the most of the sensation. But he loves her, he has to remember that - that she is to be loved, not fucked. Slowly, very slowly, he goes in and out of her, one eye studying her every squirm, examining the signs her body gives. Slowly, her whimpers give way to soft moans, and, with patience and shows of affection, Aemond is capable of extracting from the young princess encouragement to move faster. So he does.

Aeressa is squirming under him, large breasts bouncing softly with the movement. She pinches her nipples, runs her nails through her white skin, and does as he had done before, chasing after the heat the actions spark in her belly. It feels so different, to be full, but the more the pain subdues, the more she enjoys it, and begins to dread the moment her brother bottoms out of her, leaving her empty. Thankfully, it's only for a short moment before he fills her again. "Faster, please!" asks her, guided by an instinct that says a quicker pace would be more pleasant. 

Aemond is enthralled by the vision before him, one he only dared dream of. She is angelical, perfect, pierced by him, belonging only to one man now and forever. He smirks and leans forward to suck in a hickey on the pale pulse point of her neck, hips snapping against hers. Every bruise he leaves on her body is a work of art and a show of passion, a sign of ownership he will not let Aegon question. King-to-be or not, he lost this match, and with this victory under his belt, the younger prince finds that he does not mind losing the war all that much. He kisses his sister’s mouth with a pure mix of love and lust. “It feels so good! I might go insane!” the girl whimpers against his lips, prompting his hips to go harder.

“You’re doing amazing, Aeressa.” he smiles at her, sole eye taking in the beauty of her reactions, the perfect ‘O’ of her lips, the hitch of her breath. Aemond finds that she likes it fast, but it is when he goes hard that she gasps and cries out his name. “Such a perfect little bitch.” He cups her cheek with one hand, the other next to her head, holding his weight on top of her. He keeps praising her, locking onto her amethyst eyes, knowing it to be the way to her heart. “Such a good girl for me. The best hole in the Realm.” 

She can feel it, how every word has her clenching around him, how every thrust gets the band in her belly to stretch further, closer to snapping. The princess is completely lost in the feeling, cockdrunk. Her brother searches for her, but there are no thoughts behind her pupils, only a thirst for release. Aeressa is vocal in bed, loud, and forgotten of consequences. She cries multiple “sir!”s and “brother!”s, gripping hard at her partner’s forearms. He can only chuckle at how gone she is, and give her his thumb to suck on.

Without waiting for more encouragement, Aemond sets a pace that is passionate and quick, almost wild, and has his sister screaming to the Seven Winds. He can’t deny he’s getting close. Gods, he’s getting close. Decided to extract one orgasm from the princess before giving in to his own, he retracts the hand that cupped her face to have it play with her clit, the spit-covered thumb slick as it circles her button. It earns a loud moan from the girl under him.

“Good girl, such a good girl!” he groans, hips snapping. 

Her walls clench around his cock. He can’t help but imagine her womb thirsty, ready to receive all of him.

“Aemond, I-” the princess gasps.

“It’s alright, let it go. Let it go for me.” His thumb speeds up on her clit. She flutters, legs shaking, chest heaving, and the coil deep in her stomach snaps in fevering euphoria. Aeressa reaches up to press her brother’s lips to hers, the kiss marked by gasps and delirious moaning.

The prince bottoms in and out her with passion, now chasing only his high, which approaches at rapid speed. With a grunt, he cums inside his little sister, whole body clenching. He fucks her shallowly through his orgasm, pushing his seed deeper.

Both out of breath and absolutely spent, the siblings eye each other. Aemond’s senses return, making him wonder “what the actual fuck.” as he pushes out of her and lays down by her side. Before he can linger on the guilt of ruining the princess, she curls up on his chest, sweat sticking their bodies together. He wraps an arm around her and tucks his chin on the top of her head.

“Was that good, husband?”

He can’t lie to her, or to himself. “That was fucking amazing.”

[hiddenqveendom]

* —INTRODUCING...FIYONA BRACKEN || 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋

❝At just ten and six, Fiyona Bracken is abruptly shipped away from her home in the Riverlands to be wed to Prince Aemond Targaryen. The One-Eyed Prince is initially resentful of the match, feeling it to be a slight on his status, and he remains mostly distant from his wife in spite of her kind nature. As they struggle to form a strong connection, and have a child of their own, Aemond’s inner demons and quest for power drive him further down a dark path, leading to more isolation and struggles in their marriage. His sudden new role as Prince Regent of the realm only further fuels the harsh fire Fiyona so desperately wishes to vanish. With a great war on the horizon, the Prince’s pursuit of power and revenge blinds him to the damage he is causing, all while he uses his love for his family as justification…❞

coming soon!

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gif credit : [x, x , moi]

[ladiesblr]

Anna Faris • The House Bunny (2008) You were in playboy right? girls with GEDS? right?

[kapiandkylo]

Midweek kale.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 28

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

You and T'Challa were standing in a chapel like building, black twine encircling both of your wrists while the Wakandan. . . priest(?) spoke Wakandan during the entire ritual. You and T'Challa stood there, staring into each others eyes before the black twine was burned, letting it all burn away to ashes below your feet.

T'Challa swept you up into a passionate kiss in front of all of Wakanda, which was met with the cheers of the people, screams of little kids, and a few cat calls from some of his friends from the border tribe.

Soon after, you were saying good-bye to Okoye, Nakia, Shuri, and his mother before very quickly heading onto the Quinjet and heading home.

Though you had loved Wakanda, you couldn't wait to be back in New York. The others seemed to feel the same way.

You were curled up between Tony and Stephen, both of them holding you. You were feeling uncomfortable on the plane ride there, every bump made you groan in pain, willing yourself not to throw up. You wished Stephen would just portal you guys to the Avengers compound.

However when the Quinjet finally touched down the ramp unloaded, you saw that you weren't near the Avengers tower. In fact, you weren't even in the city. You weren't even sure you were still in New York.

"Where are we?" You asked, looking around.

There was a very, very large mansion spread out on a large plane of green grass. There was large forest surrounding it around the back and sides. Both the front and back lawns looked absolutely huge and upon looking around, you could tell that this place would have everything you guys needed.

"Welcome home." Tony said with a grin.

Your heart melted a little. Bucky picked you up, carrying you over the threshold before putting you down inside the house.

The inside of the house was huge, but there wasn't a single spot of room wasted. There was a living room, a dining room, a very large kitchen and breakfast room, three offices, two bathrooms, and a very large library on the bottom floor. Upstairs was another two bathrooms, a dozen bedrooms, and a few balconies, one of which led out to the deck outside.

There was also a basement that contained a movie theater, a workout room, a gaming area completely with both board/physical games, a pool table, an air hockey table, along with two TVs that were equipped with every device available.

The backyard was very large, with only a huge pool, complete with a diving board and water slide alone with a greenhouse farther out. There were several fruits and vegetables growing in the greenhouse.

"This place is amazing Tony." You complimented after you guys had settled back down in the living room. Your stomach was rolling a little, but you weren't sure if that was because you were getting pre-period cramps, or if you were still feeling guilty about the whole Dora Milaje incident.

Tony grinned, proud of himself, "Glad you like it gorgeous."

"What state are we in?" You asked, curious.

"Ohio." Tony said with a shrug. "It's not to far from New York, but it had a lot more land than the ones we were looking at in New York. Besides, it's a bit quieter out here in the country."

"This is actually set on a nice plot of land." Stephen said next to you. "you could technically start an entire farm on here if you wanted."

"Maybe we could bring Samantha and Stella over, eh Buck?" You asked, winking at him.

He chuckled nervously, brushing his hair back from his face as Sam and Steve both turned to look at him.

"Who are Samantha and Stella?" Steve asked.

"His goats in Wakanda." T'Challa answered. "His milk goats."

You were now imagining all of them living on a farm. Wearing plaid flannel shirts and blue jeans. Chopping wood. Milking cows. Shearing sheep. Feeding the pigs and chickens. Collecting eggs. You could imagine some of them in the gardens, working the plants.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam were the easiest to imagine this scene along with Rhodey, Clint, and Fury. The others just seemed impossible. You didn't think you'd seen Loki wear jeans once. Thor maybe as well could pull off the farmer look as well. T'Challa, Tony, and Stephen on the other hand? Absolutely not. Tony only wore suits, Stephen rarely changed out of his wizarding clothes, and T'Challa wore traditional clothes almost all of the time.

As the night wore on, movies playing on the TV, you started to drift off. You could feel Stephen picking you up in his arms, bidding the others good-night as he carried you up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. You knew Tony was around as you could hear him talking softly to Stephen.

"Hey sweetheart," Tony said softly as they sat you upright on the bed. You blinked before leaning your head on his shoulder, trying to fall asleep. He chuckled gently. "You gotta get into some pajamas. You're going to be uncomfortable if you stay in that dress all night."

You ignored him, making him sigh in fake exasperation. "You want me to undress you then?"

You nodded, already half-asleep. You could feel his fingers unzipping the dress behind you, sliding the shoulders of it off, before you were nodding off.

The last thing you felt was being slipped under silk sheets, a warm arm holding you tightly to their chest.

***

You bolted upright, leaping out of the bed, stumbling into the bathroom, the door banging against the wall behind you.

"Sweetheart?" Tony's tired voice was drowned out as you vomited into the toilet. You heard feet hit the floor behind you before Tony was pulling your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the bowl.

Once you were done, you rested your forehead on your arms.

"Darling?" Stephen's voice was behind you now as well.

"Shit." You groaned. "I feel terrible."

Stephen's hand landed on your forehead, "You do feel warm. Tones, do you mind going downstairs, grabbing the ginger ale and some saltine crackers. I think there might already be a thermometer up here."

"There is." Tony said, knocking on one of the drawers as he passed by to leave the room.

Stephen rummaged in the drawer to pull out the under the tongue temperature reader. He pulled off the plastic cap, writing your name on the back with sharpie before crouching in front of you. "Open Y/N."

You did, letting him stick it under your tongue. You held it there until it beeped, showing that you had a 103 degree fever. The news made you vomit again, this time Stephen being the one to hold your hair back.

After he figured you were done, he helped you gently back into bed. Tony came back with a cool glass of ginger ale, so cold that perspiration was already dropping down the side of the cup. A box of saltine crackers was under his arm and he was holding a large pot in the other hand- probably so you could throw up without running to the bathroom.

"Here we go baby girl." Tony said, sitting next to me on the bed.

"Tony, you'll get sick." You mumbled, taking a small sip of the ginger ale, nibbling at a cracker.

"You need to keep up your fluids," Stephen said, completely disregarding your worry. "Salt isn't particularly good when you're sick so if you're going to be eating crackers to settle your stomach, you need to keep it balanced with plenty of water and ginger ale." [You could supplement with Sprite if you want to]

You nodded.

"I'm kind've disappointed." Tony said softly and both you and Stephen looked at him. He gave a small shrug, "Was kind've hoping you had morning sickness."

You smiled a little, "Sorry."

Tony shook his head, "I just want you to get better."

The others visited you throughout the day, which was met with your weak protests. But they figured if they were going to get sick, it was better they were all sick at once than having them someone sick every three days for a month.

They were all so sweet and attentive, laying with you, making sure that you got enough fluids. Loki loved coming in and reading more of that poetry to you. For example, the poem the second poem that he read you had laughing so hard that you got hiccups:

starkle, starkle, little twink, Who the hell are you I think. I'm not under what you call The alcofluence of incohol. I'm just a little slort of sheep, I'm not drunk like thinkle peep. I don't know who is me yet, But the drunker I stand here the longer I get So just give me one more fink to drill my cup, 'Cause I got all day sober to Sunday up.

Loki, not knowing the song of twinkle twinkle little star was a bit confused about why you liked the poem so much. Despite this, he enjoyed that you were laughing at it, and let you read it over and over as you hiccuped, tears streaming down your face with laughter.

[I mean- I though it was funny]

And then there was another one that sounded just beautiful, if not a little creepy.

There's a truth not many know, About the world while you're asleep That the wind slips through your window, To steal the secrets that you keep, And if you don't believe me, Then you're welcome to your doubt, But have you never stopped to wonder, What it's whispering about? What else in the world Could make the treetops bend and sway But the weight of all the words, that no one ever dared to say? And since it's while your sleeping Secrets are easiest to take It's no surprise those with the deepest are the ones kept wide awake.

"Is that why you don't sleep?" You asked Loki teasingly.

Loki chuckled, appreciating your humor. "Naturally my Queen."

After you'd gotten better, most everyone else had either gotten it and it had passed, or they hadn't gotten it at all. Except Bucky who had it really bad.

He was shivering under his blankets, his nose red and his lips blue. Except that he always kept saying he was hot, trying to throw the blanket off of him.

For the most part, Steve, Sam, and Stephen stayed with him, taking care of him. But you tried to get some time with him, curling up with him while he pressed his cold face into your neck.

You wanted to surprised him for when he got better, so you grabbed Loki and the two of you went out into the town.

"What are we getting?" Loki questioned, following you along. You both ignored pointing fingers and stares from passerby's.

"You'll see." You said, gripping his hand before dragging him to a pet store. You and Loki looked around before you found two kittens and a puppy that you both wanted and were sure that the others would want.

[The two kittens are a species called Munchkin kitties. I don't know the dog breed I'm sorry]

The first kitten was a white kitten with grey eyes that reminded you of Bucky. The second kitten was black with such blue eyes you could've sworn that it was Loki impersonated. And the puppy was just to cute to pass up on.

"Okay, this one is adorable." Loki said, cradling the black kitten in his arms. The puppy was on a leash while you tried keeping the other kitten in your hands. It was a very squirmy kitten and it took a minute before it finally settled contentedly on your shoulder. You were sure that it wouldn't last long.

"Are we getting any other pets?" Loki asked as you moved through a second pet store.

"Yes." You said. "I want two rabbits as well. I think it's only fitting, after all, I want pets that everyone wants. And I absolutely adore rabbits."

"Why two?" Loki asked.

"Rabbits are very social creatures. They can actually die of depression so if you get a rabbit, you should always get two so that they are never lonely. Human interaction can only be so much for them."

"Interesting." Loki mused as you looked over the English lops that were sitting in the area. The kitten in your hands sniffed at them in interest. One of the bunnies stood up on its hind legs, sniffing at the kitten before tentatively starting to groom it behind the ears. The kitten purred, closing its' eyes. You and Loki exchanged a look.

"That one." The two of you said together.

[There are four pictures. The first picture is them as a baby. The second picture is them full-sized]

"They're adorable." You cooed. The brown Miniature English Lop eared was a girl and the blue miniature lionhead was a male.

"They are quite cute." Loki admitted, holding the cardboard carrier case with the two bunnies inside gingerly. "This kitten is still my favorite though."

"I got him specifically because he looks like you." You said with a smile, feeling giddy as the two of you got back to the car. Loki said he would sit in the back with all of the animals.

You drove slowly so that you didn't make any sudden stops, turns, or starts. When you got home, Rhodey and Clint came out to see where you guys had gone.

"Oh Fury is going to freak." Clint said with delight, picking up the white ball of fluff in one hand. The cat peered up at him.

"That one is kind've Bucky's." You admitted. "and the black cat is kind've Loki's. But the dog and the bunnies are all of ours."

Rhodey picked the puppy up, which immediately started to lick his face energetically.

You took the white cat from Clint, trading the two bunnies for her. You carefully made your way up the stairs while the others downstairs started crowding the other animals.

You knocked on the door, hearing Steve say, "Come in."

"Cover his eyes Steve." You said before you entered the room.

You heard Bucky mumble a weak protest as you came in, making your way over to the bed. You watched Steve's eyes widen and then a smile break out on his face. You sat down on the edge of the bed. "Okay."

Steve removed his hand and Bucky looked at you and then at the white fluff in your hands. Bucky's face lit up in delight and you quickly reached out, placing the kitten in his hands.

The kitten stood up in his two hands, starting to nuzzle and knead the metal hand like it a toy. Then it hopped off his hands, making her way up to his chest, curling up into the tiniest ball you'd ever seen.

Bucky was grinning so wide it was like he had never been sick. "She's adorable. What a good little kitty." He petted her with two fingers. "Does she have a name?"

"No, you can name her." You said.

Bucky continued to look down at her, petting her, "Alpine."

"Cute." You commented. "I wonder what Loki will name his cat."

"There's another cat?" Bucky's eyes lit up even more if that was possible.

"And a puppy and two bunnies." You said sheepishly. "I wanted to make sure everyone had a pet that they liked. I mean, for the most part we're sharing the animals. Like how we'll share kids. But I thought you'd like your own cat."

Bucky motioned for you to lean over so that he could kiss your forehead. "Thank you doll."

"Anything for you Buckaroo."

Clint, Sam, and Rhodey came upstairs at that moment, bringing in the bunnies and puppy to see Bucky as well.

Bucky smiled, watching how attentive the bunnies were with the puppy, both of them climbing all over the poor dog.

"We thought you'd name the bunnies Y/N." Rhodey said with a grin.

You smiled back, "That's Cinnamon roll and that's Boba." You said without any hesitation.

Steve chuckled behind you, "Cute names."

"What's the dogs name?" You asked.

"We haven't decided yet." Rhodey said.

Suddenly you heard the door open downstairs and you heard Fury give a strangled cry before he shouted, "What the F-"

[faerymeat]

˚‧⁺༝꒰ა♱໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺‧˚

[gamerwoman3d]

Beta Tester

An MK1 Scorpion Smut imagine fanfiction

Note: if you wanna cut the story plot and get straight to the filth, scroll until you see the animated gif. Other info/notes in the tags.

Imagine you and a friend spot a man with a scorpion tattoo at a party once. Later on in a living room somewhere you find yourselves both talking about how hot he is, and gossiping about him and his overly generous, sweet wife, Harumi. Some months later you see your friend at a party flirting with some other unremarkable new guy when you notice your friend has some weird burn marks on their arm.

[Explicit/spicy below the cut 🔞]

As you ask about it, your friend just covers the burn and avoids the topic, preferring to talk about the flirty new guy. You assume the burn mark was from a hot stove, only to realize that it's actually a rope burn from some kink play gone wrong.

You need details, but worry that if you say anything right now you might scare away the uninspiring new guy. After all, the new guy just met your friend tonight and could not possibly have been responsible for the burn. The two leave the party together before you can ask.

Harumi introduced herself to you not long after they left. She has a gift for your absent friend. You say you'll see your friend tomorrow and can deliver the gift. Harumi leaves it with you in a small gift bag. The following day, your friend can't stop talking all about the new guy and the night they shared.

Your friend seems awkward opening the gift from Harumi only to find bandages and silver sulfadine cream - a type of wound care for open burn blisters. When you ask what's up, your friend confesses that not only have they been regularly fulfilling the hot husband's kink fantasies, but that Harumi herself sanctioned your friend's involvement with her man.

You shamelessly ask your friend to tell you everything.

As it turns out, Harumi wants nothing more than to be his little rope bunny, but they have very specific rules in their culture and in their prenuptial agreement; He cannot leave marks on her, ever.

Privately, the pair practices and workshops their rougher ideas on willing third parties. Your friend is one of those parties, and has the burns and bruises to show for it.

"This one is from a knot in the rope. I landed on the knot wrong when we took me down. We'd been playing with suspension. These little ones are from a melted candle. That one is where the rope was too loose and slipped and caused a burn. I didn't even notice it was burning at the time..."

"How did you not notice?!" you ask.

"He was eating me at that moment. He wanted me to squirm. He got what he wanted."

"Um... does everyone get what they want in that arrangement?"

"Well, Harumi wants him violently, so in her case no, she does not get what she's wanting. But god it's so good when he gets going. I hope she gets what she wants from him someday. She seems to enjoy living vicariously through me. She'll request that he take me rough and work off his energy on me before going back to her to do gentler stuff afterwards. I've heard her whimpering; by the time he's done with me, she's ready to burst."

"I gotta ask... has your new guy asked about the marks?"

"We haven't talked about it yet, but I suspect if I'm going to keep him, I have to call the whole thing off with Harumi and her husband."

"Just to be clear, we're talking about that guy with the scorpion tattoo, right?"

"Yeah that's her husband."

"That guy is hot as fire, what's his name? You kept calling him Harumi's husband?" you ask.

"At the risk of sounding even sluttier than I already sound, admittedly I actually don't know his real name. And I feel kinda weird just calling him Scorpion but... even Harumi calls him that when I'm around."

"Wow."

"Yeah yeah I know. I think he's some kind of street performer or magician, he does neat tricks with fire sometimes. It makes sense that he has a stage name if he's doing magic or whatever. But like... I'm not calling him that unless I have to see him. And the next time I see them is... oh shit. I'm supposed to go over to their place tonight..."

"You going?"

"I should call it off. I don't want to potentially ruin things with my new man. But oh god, if he doesn't work out then I don't want to lose my place with them. Let's face it, I'm not the only 'beta tester' that they employ; someone will take my place if I drop out, and I won't forgive myself if I get dumped and then also can't get my spot back."

"I wish I could take your spot for you, cuz like... damn. I'll call him Scorpion if it means he breaks me off."

"Actually... maybe you could fill in for me tonight?"

Imagine showing up to their door unnanounced, a white knuckle grip on the gift bag Harumi had left you as you practice the lie over and over in your head. He opens the door.

Confusion knits his brow as he waits for you to explain your presence. You ask for Harumi. He calls for her. She joins him in the doorway, and you reach out, offering the bag to her. You tell her that your friend is sick today and didn't want visitors; you thought the responsible thing would be to return the gift to Harumi. She makes a disappointed groan and says she really hated to hear that they're ill, adding how much she 'needed' to see them tonight.

Imagine taking a deep breath, and offering to help, just like you rehearsed with your friend. "I'm happy to help you with whatever work they were going to do for you tonight," you say from a script your friend made you rehearse.

The pair exchange glances and then look back to you.

"What kind of work do you do," he asks.

His eyes dart over your body in one quick, cautious overlook. He stops as soon as he starts; he sensed that his look caused you some tension.

"It's um, secure work, with a lot of lifting, uhm, yeah, I can at least help out with the lifting, if you wanna show me the ropes?"

You tell yourself that the word 'um' was not a part of your script. But upon hearing the keyords, secure, lifting, ropes, the couple's demeanor relaxes. He arches a questioning eyebrow at his wife. Harumi has a pleasant glitter in her eyes that speaks to her approval. They both nod slightly in unison and invite you inside. He's suppressing a smile as he looks you over again, with intent this time. He knows that you know what you're getting into, and is no longer as concerned about causing you tension.

"Make yourself at home. Bathrooms are on the left, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. We do the work in the weight room, which is down that hall. Do you need anything to get started?" Harumi asks.

"Just... one thing. Between us?"

Harumi looks to her husband. He nods and walks away, in the direction of the weight room.

"I just wanted to check if um, if you're really okay with this stuff? I don't wanna do anything with him without your approval," you say as another line you rehearsed.

"Of course! I'm happy to have someone helping take care of Scorpion's needs!"

Imagine thinking wow, your friend wasn't wrong; that name does sound weird.

You can't help but ask if that's his real name.

"It is, to you," he interrupts.

You look up to see him standing at the end of the hall. He makes a 'come here' motion with his finger. Harumi places her hand on your shoulder and gives you a gentle, affirming push his direction.

"You'd better go," she muses, "lest he come get you and drag you over there."

You know now for certain that she's agreed to loan her man out to you, and you also see that he's eager.

Inside the weight room, the floor is covered with foam mats and one wall is nothing but shelves of equipment for rope dart sports. A collection of shéng biāo are coiled and organized from beginner to advanced. The bright red, soft and silky ropes stand out as odd. Imagine following him inside this room only to find lit candles and incense at a small dragon-shaped altar in the room. A stand near the altar holds an assortment of more sensual things, including red silks, lubricants, condoms, dragon-etched ornamental glass pillar candles, and an unopened pack of that silver sulfadine next to a very visible first aid kit. He picks over the red ropes, spinning one in his hand to test for it's weight. Harumi enters with a woven basket full of red fabric, smelling of lavender and pumpkin spice.

"Use these," she says, "I tried a new fabric softener on them. They're fresh from the dryer."

He lets one slip between his fingers.

"Ooh," he exclaims, "they're still warm. And they're very soft. Thank you."

Harumi closes the door as she leaves, winking at you to bid you to have fun. The door latch clicks. Scorpion's eyebrow is raised when he turns back to stare at you.

"So you," he starts, "Why did you come tonight? What are you looking forward to the most, what excites you?"

You realize you stammered without answering as your brain practically buffered. He had a smile in his eyes as he shamelessly checked you out. The smile spread to his lips as he unwound his top from around his torso.

"It's cute that you're stammering. I'm going to miss it. Most people stop stammering after you break through the touch barrier. We haven't touched yet, have we? There's still an awkwardness that I don't think would be there had we broken the touch barrier."

Now stripped to the waist, he picked up and fondled a length of the soft red rope. He sees the way you look at his body and invites you to him with a gesture.

"Would you like to touch?" he asks.

You inch forward and reach out towards his chest. You couldn't be more tense if you were on the brink of toppling a Jenga tower. You take the rope, and let your knuckles brush his skin as you rub your thumb over the silky smooth warm fiber of the rope.

"I meant would you like to touch me," he said.

He smirks, but remains still, his eyes locked on yours as you force yourself to concentrate on the rope. You let the rope fall from your hand and touch his chest with your fingertips.

The pad of his thumb gently grazes the length of your finger. He presses into your touch, gently runs one finger through the hair over your eye and past your ear. His voice is warm when he says "I like that."

His fingers trace down your neck and he says "It feels good. I want to show you how it feels. May I feel?"

When you nod, he reaches under your clothes to fondle the skin near your nipple. He finds your nipple with his fingertips and traces spirals over it with a feather light touch.

"Let's try that question again. What are you looking forward to, right now, in this very moment?" he asks.

Your mind immediately jumps to sex. You have a vision of you both naked, you helpless in his arms while impaled mercilessly on his cock. Your eyes dart to his pants involuntarily. You shut them, but he already saw where they strayed. He gestured towards his erection.

"Would you like to see it?" he offered.

An easy enough question to answer with a nod.

"Do you want me to take it out, or would you prefer to do it?"

"I'll do it," you say.

Imagine unwrapping his package like a present. You can feel his gift through the wrapping. You might try to guess things about this gift before you reveal it. When you do expose it, it feels warm to the touch, feverish and firm. It has heft, but stands on its own despite its weight.

"What do you want to do with it?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, lots of things... what do you want to do with it?"

He holds up the length of red rope suggestively.

"I wanted to tie you up and sling you from the ceiling, so that when I fucked you with it you swing back and forth on it in the air," he said.

"Oh," you said.

Fire, Oh my fucking god, fire said your body.

Then he leaned in close to your ear.

"What can I do for you to get you to do that for me?" he murmured.

"Nothi- I mean, it sounds fun... just get me off?" you asked.

"With pleasure," he said.

He tugged at the fabric of your clothes and asked if you prefer to undress yourself or if you want him to do it. Either way the clothes come off in a blur and he presses the warm soft rope against your skin, rapidly cocooning your form in a macrame sling custom to your body.

Imagine the softest, silkiest ropes whipping around some parts of your body several times as he worked you into a makeshift rope harness. The ropes are warm against the skin; straight from the dryer, they retain heat for a while. His hands brush against you as he works the ropes over your entire body. When he reaches between your legs to wind the ropes through, he grazes the skin of your inner thigh with the back of his knuckles. He pets parts of you as he works, enjoying the feel of your body, knowing you enjoy the feel of his warm hands on your skin. Soon you look like you've been woven into a fancy net. He slings the ropes expertly through the hooks of a pulley above. One last knot and he's hoisting you into the air and asking you if you're comfortable.

"Does it dig into the skin at any point," he asks.

Imagine the rope swing feeling surprisingly comfortable. Imagine it like a recliner you can lean back in, but which forces your legs up and apart. You can barely move, but find you can rock yourself just slightly.

Imagine him running his fingertips over your skin, stopping to pay attention to the areas that make you shudder, all while commanding you to tell him how you get yourself off when you're alone. He asks what you fantasize about happening when you're alone with yourself.

If he finds out that you're rough with yourself when you're alone, imagine the glint in his eye when he shows you a rubber version of the metal dart at the end of a red silky rope. These rubber darts are made for practice.

He says It stings when it hits. It is designed for training rope dart techniques, designed to minimize injury and damage. He says a good design will still inflict enough pain that one is forced to learn from their mistakes, lest they repeat them with a metal dart and potentially do real harm. If he thinks you're interested in the stinging sensation, he offers to test it on you.

He has a habit of running his a thumb along his "beta testers" genitals, asking them to reveal their most sensitive spot. He says he likes to play a game where he throws the rope dart around their bodies - the dart wraps their thigh or their belly several times, squeezing it tight, and continues to wrap rapidly until the rubber tip slaps the targeted spot.

The cringe from that sting is the best way he knows for checking whether the rope sling is tied well enough. Regardless of whether or not the sting was too much, he'll croon apologies and go down on that spot, kissing and sucking and sometimes gagging on it until he's verbally forgiven for stinging his helpless lovers.

"Can I get the oral sex without the sting?" You might ask.

He won't answer in words, just in an arched eyebrow and a smirk right before he goes down without further announcement.

He needs to see you cringe and squirm in the net he wove you into, and he won't stop pleasuring you until your body has locked up in involuntary spasms at least once.

Another of his favorite tests is the act of bouncing you on his hand while you're suspended. He uses the same circular motion as when he's spinning his ropes, only his middle and ring fingers are up, inside you, working your inner spot. The motion causes the whole sling to rock and drives his fingers deeper inside with gravity. He really only uses it as a preview to the motion you'll feel when he fucks you senseless in your sex swing.

The pillar candles aren't just pretty. They're full of wax. It might be massage wax or candle wax, but either way he shows you a magic trick...

First, the condom. It's on him. It glistens. He made certain you're dripping wet before he put it on. But now, a magic trick. He holds the long glass tube of the pillar candle, close to the base. He looks into your eyes and tells you he's going to melt all of the wax in the candle and pour it out onto you. You see the whitish wax in the jar turn clear at the places where his fingertips touch. The dragons etched into the glass begin to burn as if coated with lighter fluid. The wax turns clear underneath the dragon pattern. Soon the entire candle is no longer a white solid, but a clear, hot liquid, sloshing around in the glass as he gently shakes it in suggestive circles. You feel the circles mirrored between your legs as he grinds his cock against you.

He knows you want it inside. He wants you to plead and negotiate with him for it. You can have all his cock if you forgive him for stinging you... if you can accept that he likes to sting you, and understand that he gets off on it when he makes you feel stung. He'll ask if he can burn and sting you with the hot wax, and if you'll forgive him for causing you pain, ask if he can fuck the hell out of you, hard.

This is what you came for after all.

The liquid is hot as a motherfucker as he drizzles it over your body, leaving patterns of clear liquid that rapidly cool to white across the red ropes and reddening skin beneath the scalding wax. Thrashing against the pain, the ropes hold you in place. It is the wincing on your face that provides him his cue to give you what you came for; you've done your worst to his ropes and haven't freed yourself yet. Confident that his ropework is sturdy enough to continue, sturdy enough to let loose and fuck your brains out without worry, he pushes you back and lets his cock fall between your legs. He wastes no more time, sinking his cock as deep into you as he can get on the first thrust, trusting that gravity will sling you back on it harder as he rocks you back and forth on his cock suspended in midair.

He dumps the last of the wax and slings the empty pillar jar to the side. Clear wax dribbles down your hips and thighs and congeals there in white rivulets. He gets some on him as well, but it's strange - on him, the mess stays clear. If he presses his hot skin against you and comes back with white fragments of cooled wax, they fade from solid white to liquid clear against his body. The wax is all over his belly below the naval, and each rough slap of his body against yours just splatters more wax against the deep cut V of his hips. It looks less like wax, and more like someone with clear cum has ejaculated against him multiple times. Therefore it looks like a prophecy that you're currently in the throws of fulfilling.

Whether he takes you rough and flicks you with the sting of this practice dart, or takes you firm but gentle and massages your sore spot from the outside while railing against the best spot from within, he won't stop until you're howling in pleasure and bursting against him.

He'll lower your limp, spent body to the sweaty gymnastic mat below, untie you as you catch your breath, and inspect every inch of your body for marks as he rub a coolant over your burns. One free hand goes to the back of your neck to support you as he lowers you. Imagine the fingertips, still hot as a coffee mug from his grip on the burning glass candle, digging into the muscles at the scruff of your neck. Once he has tended any minor injuries with cooling gel or other first aid, he'll wrap you in something soft and warm straight from the dryer and carry you to the bathroom where Harumi already ran a perfect luxurious bath for you, flower petals and all. Once the pair establishes that you escaped the stinging play without a scratch this time, they leave you to your bath.

That is to say Harumi is pulling at him playfully and as long as you're satisfied, he lets her drag him to bed. All throughout your bath you hear their sighs and moans. You realize that if you like, you can play along in their audio drama; or, you can stay silent, soak it all up and relax.

[The end for now]

Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌

Need more Scorpion smut? Check this one out!

[dustbon]

Winter's here! What means: no more gardening, fishing or frog hunting for our girl. It's baking time 🧁

[lovely-mogai]

Mellonmatchamulviboard

A gender that can only most accurately be described by the moodboard above.

[No id]